#just go listen to tempted hearts by cerulean tears

[scalpelofshar]

Only one undead in BG worth my time and his name is Malus Thorm

[aeoncryptic]

Rain Leads to Sunshine

Genre (?): Fluff~! I mainly write fluff.

Word count: 3287

Pairing: Vincent x MC

Warning: Apparently I’m told it’s a little angsty and a little sad. @-@

She couldn’t contain her tears any longer; They fell like a heavy rainstorm on her pillow. She couldn’t forget her home, no matter how hard she tried. Trapped here in another time, another place, she was trying to make the best of it all. She chose to work as a maid here in a mansion of vampires. Most would laugh if they’d heard her say so, for vampires were a thing of dreams! Others would wonder if she had lost her mind. A human working for vampires? What would possess one to do such a thing? She thought they would ask. But these vampires - No, these men were good people! They all cared about her and wanted nothing more than to see her smile. She could not hold a smile forever, though.

And so the rain fell, heavy from her eyes, drenching her pillow. But tomorrow, she will smile again. She will conceal her sorrow again. Her decision had been made by her adoration for the beings she served. Going back home would mean never seeing them again, but staying meant never seeing her family again.

A knock to her door caused her to attempt to quiet her sobbing. She set her feet to the floor, and with hesitation, she slowly got up from her bed and trudged her way to the door. Hastily, she wiped the tears from her face and forced a smile. Her shaking hands reached for the door knob, unlocked it slowly and opened it slightly.

What greeted her were two sky blue eyes. Vincent stood there with a concerned expression. “(MC), are you alright? May I come in?” She hesitated for a moment before opening the door wider to allow him inside. He graced her with his signature angelic smile, one that made her heart skip a beat. Once he passed her and the door was closed, she walked to her bed and took a seat. He resisted the urge to catch her as she walked by, desperation to make her usual glow return was eating away at him. The fear of upsetting her more, too, ate at him. The fluffy comforter of the bed poofing a bit as she sat, her fingers smoothing out the ruffles and giving the blanket a gentle pat. A silent command for him to take the spot beside her, to which he obeyed.

Though she refused to look at his face, she knew he wore a look of concern. He tried to hide it behind that angelic face, that was always so kind. It hurt her, sometimes, how kind he could be. With a glance at his face, she donned a smile and asked, “Is there anything I can help you with, Vincent?” Her emerald eyes still held the shimmer of tears, dark circles from her lack of sleep, and the pink streaks down her face marking her sorrow. Try and try as he might, he could not keep control of the torrent of emotions that battered at the dam, the flood finally freeing itself. He reached a hand up to gently caress her cheek; he needed to comfort her.

He pulled her tight into his arms, trying to hold back his own tears. “What’s hurt you, (MC)? What can I do to make it better?” His blonde hair brushed against her neck as he buried his face there, hoping his voice didn’t shake. Would she be okay with him comforting her? What if she got upset? He shouldn’t touch her without her permission, he knew, but the signs were obvious that she was miserable. His intentions weren’t to disrespect her; perhaps she could forgive him.

The corners of her lips slowly dropped down, her arms wrapping around him to return his hug. She placed the palm of her hand on his broad back, tracing soothing circles in an attempt to sway his worries. “I’m alright, Vincent. I just miss home a little. Ah! But it’s not that I wish to go home. I love it here with all of you!” She rushed the last part past her lips, concerned he might misunderstand her. His shoulders finally relaxed, however his muscles still held that tension.

An idea slowly sliding into his mind. Something that he could do for her; that only HE could do for her. Lifting his head, he slowly leaned back up and took his handkerchief out of his pocket to gently wipe the tear streaks from her face. She offered him another shakey smile, to which he smiled back. “If it’d help, you could tell me about your life before coming to the mansion?” Her hesitation was evident in the way her smile faltered, in the way her eyes shifted towards her lap, the way her hand moved to brush her hair behind her ear.

“If… If it isn’t too much of a bother. I would hate to take up your time, Vincent.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his cerulean gaze, where she could see his desire to offer her an ear. The longer she took Vincent away from his paintings, the more upset Theo would be; She was bound for a lecture tomorrow. But those pleading puppy eyes always got to her heart. In an attempt to calm her racing heart, she looked back at her lap once again.

“(MC), you could never bother me.” His hand gently reached up under her chin, encouraging her to look back into his eyes, her blush not escaping notice. “I truly wish to hear about your home, your family, your time period.” She could almost see a halo over his head with the kindness in his request.

She began her tale. Vincent listened, enraptured with how differently she described her world from this one, the longing evident in how her voice shook. Whenever he had a question, she would patiently answer his inquiries. He needed to know what these horseless carriages were, what the tall buildings in her city looked like, and even what ‘neon lights’ were. It was all foreign to him and though most of it passed in one ear and out the other, he was trying to keep up. He admitted defeat in completely understanding.

One day, he would get to see all of this, she thought sadly. He would get to see all of this, but never again would she be able to. Another cold realization crawled through her fingertips, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. Noticing this, Vincent gently rubbed her arms between his hands. “Are you cold?” His hands slid from her arms and reached up, grasping the edges of his own jacket as he pulled it off. With a gentle shift of air, he laid the jacket across her shoulders and pulled it tight around her. “It is a bit chilly here.” Once he was satisfied that his jacket would keep her warm, he stood up from the bed. “I’m sorry I kept you awake for so long… I’ll head back to my room. If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” Her lips twitched into a tired smile as she thanked him for his kindness.

Vincent’s blonde hair swished as he turned towards the door and strode out in search for the butler, Sebastian. Curiosity and a burning idea spread throughout his mind like wildfire. He knew that as soon as he left the room, his flower would return to the state she was in before he knocked upon her door. The desperation to make her smile ate away at him, tearing its claws through his heart, almost bringing him to tears. He clutched at his scarf, his only comfort in this moment. He could only hope that his jacket provided her the same comfort.

His steps echoed through the empty hallways as he made for the kitchen, knowing Sebas would still be awake making preparations for tomorrow's breakfast and checking what ingredients he would need to get. He hesitated upon reaching the door; he disliked bothering others. What if Sebas was really busy and asking questions would set him behind? Vincent’s eyes lowered to the floor, his blonde bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. The young man was tempted to turn away from the door, but he shook that thought away and confidently pushed the door open. No. I shouldn’t think like that! I would do anything for (MC).

Sebastian had his back to the door, his hands steadily chopping away at the vegetables before him. Vincent’s fears returned for a moment, bubbling near the surface and almost washing away his idea. “Sebas, may I have a moment of your time?”

The butler’s head turned to see the older Van Gogh brother standing by the table with his calm smile and gentle eyes. “Of course. What can I do for you, Master Vincent?” Setting the knife down, Sebastian moved to the sink and began washing his hands. “I’ve already finished everything for the day and was simply preparing for tomorrow.” He smiled at Vincent as he finished cleaning his hands and dried them off.

Feeling a little bit reassured that he wasn’t disturbing the butler, he decided to ask, “I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about your and (MC)’s time, the 21st century?” He tilted his head to the side, his eyes softening a little as he thought about her again.

Sebastian’s lips tugged into a smile; Vincent was concerned by the expression. “I’ll give you all the information you could ever want. But I would like to know why you’re so curious this late at night?” Sebas’ grey eyes glanced at the clock, the hands pointing out that it was just past midnight.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. His lips drew into a thin line, his eyes downcast, his shoulders slumped. Vincent knew rumors got around quickly in the mansion. He wouldn’t know how long the painting would take him, but she might awaken before him to work. Sebastian was their ‘butler’ and also a friend. Talking to him about the project shouldn’t be a problem. However, Vincent’s heart told him he only wanted (MC) to know about it; Only her. “I… Want to better understand (MC).” It wasn’t a lie, he told himself, not completely. The butler’s gaze seemed to see through him, but Vincent still held his smile.

His blood was pumping from the excitement as he rushed to his room following the butler’s explanation. Vincent hardly ever rushed, but tonight he needed to get this painting to her as fast as he could.

With emotions running high, Vincent began painting. His brush glided across the canvas as if trying to keep up with his thoughts. He had been unable to confess his feelings to her before, but was hoping that with this one painting he could convey to her that he loved her. He hoped that he could rid her of the sorrows that enveloped her when the sun went down. She had given up everything to stay here, in this time period, with all of them. He had heard her loneliness as she cried in her room, felt it as he held her, understood it when she told him about her home. They could never replace it, never give it back to her. She was trapped here. But he wanted to give her the world. Wanted to see her smile.

His brush moved, no longer was he in control as his heart carried him away. It was like waves crashing against the boat, any second it could tip. The older Van Gogh was lost in his desire to please the woman that awoke these emotions from their deep slumber. He took each memory she had given him, each thing she carved so painstakingly in his mind, and placed it as best he could in his little world. Hoping this would show her how much he needed her to smile, he put as much into this painting as he could.

So enveloped in his love for her was he, that when the door opened wider, he didn’t hear it. When his brother gasped upon seeing the artwork, it went into one ear and out the other. Even as his brother drew closer to get a better view, his hand didn’t stop. The intricate work was dazzling to Theo’s eyes.

Five circular pieces were spread out on the painting, two on the left, two on the right, and one perfectly in the center of the four. The empty space around these bubble shapes was filled with night sky and stars which swirled around and became clusters around the middle orb. The circle on the top left held buildings that were close together, some were tall and some were short. The one below held what appeared to be words glowing on a building. The far right ones held a forest with a carriage before it and a field of sunflowers facing the sun. But what captivated Theo, was the middle orb. The stars swirled around it drew his eyes to Vincent and (MC) laughing together. Her facing the left, while he faced the right of the painting.

The younger Van Gogh simply stood before the painting. The painter’s brush started to slowly come to a halt once the last star was perfectly placed. With shaking hands, he set the paintbrush down and picked up a towel to clean his hands. “Broer… This is the best painting I’ve seen you make…” Upon hearing Theo’s voice, Vincent turned and looked at his little brother in surprise.

“Theo, when did you come in?” Contrary to his concerned question, Vincent looked sheepish. “I was hoping (MC) would be the first to see it.” His heart swelling with love, he turned back to the painting. He knew that once she saw this painting that she’d know how he felt about her. It was a nerve wracking feeling. The feeling of electricity running up his arms, almost causing him to shudder. Theo stood there, his eyes searching his older brother’s face. He had known for a while that Vincent’s emotions were opening up again because of (MC), but he hadn’t known how deeply his brother felt for her.

Vincent watched as Theo slowly lifted his hand to run it through his auburn hair. “It’s almost morning, broer. Were you working on this all night?” Glancing towards the window, the older brother gasped now realizing that he had stayed up the entire night.

Lethargy washed over him like water now that his painting was finished. The sensation began at his fingertips and flowed through the rest of his body. “I was too energized to sleep. I had this idea and it wouldn’t leave my mind.” He had known that if his little brother had caught him awake, he’d be concerned. He also knew it would be hard to dissuade his brother's concern. “I’ll rest a bit after I wash up.”

With a heavy sigh, Theo agreed with Vincent. “I’ll put away your supplies, broer. You go get cleaned up. The faster you rest, the less you’ll have hondje wait, yeah?” After his older brother thanked him and left the room, Theo stared at the painting once more. His heart felt heavy and fear weighed upon him. The fear that he was losing Vincent again. Would she take him away? Would they go where he couldn’t follow? Fear dug its nasty claws in him, but Theo did what he always did. He continued on.

The sun had climbed high into the sky, no longer glaring through Vincent’s window. Being used to the bright light washing through his room, he had continued sleeping soundly. Even when his brother had stopped by before he left for work, the artist did not wake. Knowing his brother would be upset to have slept in, Theo still chose to let him continue in his slumber. Only when lunchtime had come and gone did he open his eyes. The thirst caused him to rise from his bed.

Excitement pulsed through him as he dressed himself. Not only was he going to hand her this painting, but he would hand her his heart. He would give it to her openly, willingly. And although he was terrified of the thought that she would cast it aside, he needed to know her answer. With an aching heart, he pushed his door open and made his way towards the dining room. Towards the love of his life.

Each step felt heavy as his feet touched the ground, his pace quicker than normal. As soon as his eyes landed upon her, his heart skipped a beat. Lunch had just ended and the young maid was picking up the plates and silverware, no sign of last night's burdens upon her face. “Goedemorgen, (MC).” His lips tugged into a brighter smile than usual. A feeling he was no longer unaccustomed to.

She turned to face him and graced him with a bright smile of her own. This smile was one that she reserved for him. A smile that only he knew, just as her tears last night were only known to him. “Goedemorgen, Vincent. Theo said you stayed up working on another painting last night.” Her smile tightened into a look of worry. “You should be careful. Did you get enough sleep?”

After reassuring her that he had, he gently reached forward and held her hand in both of his. “(MC), I’d like to show you what I was working on. Will you come look at it?” He looked right into her eyes, his expression that of a sad puppy. She giggled, a sound that made him beam, and agreed to go with him.

A gentle gasp left her lips as he opened the door and her eyes fell upon the painting. Vincent's eyes followed her as she slowly walked towards his latest masterpiece. A sinking feeling bubbled in him as he heard her sniffling. He walked to her as fast as he could and pulled her to him, enveloping her in his arms. “I’m sorry, (MC)... I didn’t mean to make you cry.” His hand left her back to gently cup her face and wipe away her tears.

Realizing that Vincent misunderstood her tears, she shook her head trying to regain her thoughts and brush away his fears. “No, Vincent. I’m just… I'm so happy. Thank you.” Her arms wrapped around him tightly as she nuzzled her face into his chest. “Thank you so much, Vincent.”

He pulled away from her slightly, causing her to look up at him again. “(MC)... I-” The fear welled up again, rearing its head. He pushed it down, shoving it back into a corner. “I love you.” As soon as the words left his lips, surprise showed on her face. “I love you so much that it hurts that I can’t protect you when this happens. I wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

More tears spilled down her face, as she grinned up at him. “Oh, Vincent… I love you too.”

No, she wouldn’t contain her tears any longer. They fell like rain on a sunny day. A happy feeling spread through her, knowing she could lean on him; knowing she could turn to him if she ever had any fears or doubts. She could never forget her home, but now she had a new family. People she could rely on. This feeling of happiness bursting through them both. An emotion too much for them to contain. His lips descended upon hers and they clung to each other, almost desperate to share their love for each other. Seeking comfort in each other's hold.

[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 3: Balancing on Breaking Branches

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 3,521

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

The day after the party, you were ready for your first class as a freshman in college. Everything went smooth, your professors were nice. There was one who spoke monotonously like he was mumbling, but you survived. Steve was the last thing that crossed your mind but you couldn’t help but replay the look on his face when Natasha threw a drink at him over and over again. You smiled to yourself every time you recalled it; amid of a class, during lunch breaks, in the library and when you returned to your dorm.

Natasha was currently out on a date with the guy she danced at a party last night. Clint, if you’re not misremembering it. You were lounging on your bed with a Sci-Fi book in your hands. You loved casual nights like this; today was the first day so you didn’t have to worry about assignments, projects or tests demanding for your attention. You could just enjoy the scarce school nights where you could just chill with your preferred novel or show.

You were so engulfed in your daydream that a knock on the door jolted you. You certainly weren’t expecting any guest at this hour and it was too early for Natasha to return from her date. Perhaps it didn’t go well or the guy was a birdbrain that Natasha just got up and left? In the past one week you had known Natasha, you knew that it was undoubtedly something Natasha would do.

So you walked toward the door and opened it. What jarred you was the person staring back on the other side.

“…Steve?”

“Hey, y/n.” A placid tone in his voice echoed.

“What…. What are you…? How did you…?”

“Cat got your tongue?”

You chuckled. “No, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting anybody tonight.”

“So you would any other night?”

“No! I- I mean, having guests is not common for me. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“0809B?” He quickly verified the numbering on the door.

“Yes, yes it’s me. But… what are you doing here?” Five years ago if Steve had come over to your place, he wouldn’t even need to bother to knock. But now, it felt like a foreigner was standing at your door; uninvited and unannounced. Inculcating himself on your fortified township that didn’t have his name on the list of inhabitants.

“Thought I’d say hi. It’s been a while.” He said it so carelessly as if it wasn’t your brittle heart that was on the verge of a cliff, a waft away from hitting the ground and crash.

“How did you know where my dorm is?”

“Got my sources all over the campus.” He welcomed himself in without even asking for your permission. You being the pushover you characteristically were, stepping aside immediately as a bit of his arm brushed your shoulder.

“So… where is your scary redhead roommate?” he paced around the room, his broad figure making the moderate unit feels even more cramped.

“She’s on a date.”

Steve scoffed, “good luck to that guy.” His eyes darted all over the chattels before he flumped conveniently on your bed. “This one’s yours, right? I wouldn’t want your roommate to throw more drinks at me for messing up her sheet.”

“Yeah, it’s mine.” you folded your hands on your chest, trying to shield yourself from the unaddressed tension in the room. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night… at the party.” you loaded the silence in the room.

Steve smirked. “What are you sorry for, doll? Wasn’t you who made me go home with wet clothes, was it?”

“I know but, I’m just sorry. I don’t know why she did that, well, I mean I did know, I just didn’t know why she thought it was okay and I really did try to stop her but-” you rambled, feeling even more repentant than before. All the contentment that gradually cultivated since yesterday was extinguished when his cerulean blue eyes fixated themselves on you as he stood from the bed and approached you.

Without a single warning, Steve slammed his lips onto yours, knocking the lungs out of your breath as you nearly stumbled on your feet. And then, it was like the time stopped ticking and the scene was in slow motion. The only things that reverberated in your ears were your laboured breathing and the quickening pace of your heartbeat.

What was happening? Your mind was scattered all over the place by one sweep of his lips and you couldn’t patch the pieces of the phenomenon.

All you knew was that you wanted more… You needed more. It was everything you had ever yearned and perished for. You craved him deep in your bones and he infused himself in your blood, long before you even realized it. And you let him, you’d cut open your flesh, just to have a crumb of his love.

He licked your bottom lip to ask you to grant him entry and you permitted. He tangled his tongue with yours and he explored your mouth. You couldn’t help but emit a whimper to what he was doing to you. His hands around your neck keeping you in place.

“I know you want me, baby… You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Steve. I do.” you were so breathless, you practically whispered the words.

“Say it. Say that you desperately want me.”

“I desperately want you, Steve. Please…” you didn’t know what you were actually pleading for but you were too mesmerized by his touch and his body so close to yours. You would do, say and be anything he wanted you at that moment. You’d give it away without a second thought.

“Such a sweet girl. You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he taunted you. The truth is, he always knew you had fond feelings for him but he never planned to reciprocate those feelings. He always viewed you as someone who was once his best friend, and when he had a taste of what life had to offer once he put himself out there, what you offered felt bleak and monotone. Janet was a wild ride, a Bugatti Chiron on an empty lane and he loved the adrenaline.

But you… You were as soft as cotton, a needy lamb in the middle of a deserted island, begging for someone to come and rescue you. It wasn’t what he liked on his plate but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to have his fun with you. Your naivety came with being malleable and oh, how fun he was going to have, moulding you into whatever he liked.

Steve lifted you and threw you on the bed and you shied away from his fiery gaze. “Stay there.” you nodded and waited for his next move. He took off his coat and stripped himself off his jeans and navy blue shirt. He slowly pulled down his briefs and the primal instinct in you knocked on the door of your desire, tempting you to look but you were too mortified at the moment. Not having that many experiences… Well, not having any experience at all actually, made you feel extremely nervous.

You didn’t know what was happening or what he was going to do next. What if he asked you to do something your Biology classes didn’t teach you about? You were jittery as the ceiling of your dorm suddenly looked so intriguing. You listened to the ruffling noises of his clothes being taken off.

“Sit up.” You followed his order and he lifted your oversized shirt off your body and you suddenly felt so exposed. You weren’t wearing a bra because you never bothered to when you were in your resident and you lived with Natasha who didn’t even care if you walked around the dorm naked.

Your hands instantly shielded your breasts as you shrank before him. He pulled your hands away, clearly disagreeing with your sheepishness. “Now, now, let’s not play coy, shall we? You said you want me then what are you hiding for?”

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded. He lightly pushed your shoulders so you laid back on the mattress, as Steve pulled down your pyjama shorts along with your underwear. You had never felt so unconcealed especially on the eyes of the man you had loved since you were a kid.

“Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you… Well, maybe just a bit.” He winked as he positioned himself between your legs. He trailed butterfly kisses along your body, down from your belly to your neck. He knew the exact spot that would make you weak on the knees (as if you weren’t already–) and he took a little more time there to prep you for the imminent calamity.  

You squirmed underneath as you let out a breathy moan. “Steve…”

“Shh, I got you.”

He dragged his fingers down your clit as he made a circling motion with his fingers there, making you shudder. You bit your lip with your eyes shut and you didn’t see how much he was enjoying the palpable effect he had on you.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“It feels… Good. So good, Steve.” Your wetness gathered and then you felt a nudge of his tip on your bud. You gasped and the friction opened your eyes. “What… What is that?”

“It’s just my cock being impatient for your soaked cunt, baby. Relax. We’re gonna get there.”

You slacked beneath him, letting him take the wheel. When you were wet enough, he stopped. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes… I trust you.”

“You’re willing to give yourself to me? Hm?” He nipped your bottom lip and he bucked his hips into you, giving you a peek of what was about to come.

“Yes… Yes, I will.”

“That’s a good girl.” He inserted his cock through your entrance, tearing off the thin piece of tissue that surrounds your opening. You shrieked in pain as you held on to his shoulders, trying to endure bear the new sensation you’d never felt before.

You closed your eyes, trying to regain composure but it was impossible with him filling you up so well. He withdrew his hips and thrust himself forward and he repeated the action. You tried to suppress your squeals but Steve encouraged you to do otherwise.

“Moan for me baby, go ahead.”

You couldn’t disobey him even if you wanted to anyway, so when he kept pounding you with his enormous cock, you lost your capability of doing anything else but scream his name and felt all of him inside you. The pain that hurt you at the beginning has morphed into newfound pleasure.

He picked up the speed, not wanting to wait any longer to reach his climax. The accelerated velocity formed a sensation in your abdomen, anticipating for its eruption. Steve felt you clenched around him and you couldn’t restrain yourself any longer, one more push and the coil inside you broke and you swore you saw stars and fireworks going off above you.

Steve’s grip tightened on your wrists as his cock throbbed, shooting his cum deep inside you. The euphoria never gets old. Even though he had just fucked two girls after the party last night, there was nothing more satisfying than knowing that he had just desecrated someone’s purity, which is exactly what just did to you.

Steve threw himself off of you in your tiny bed, laying next to you. He had one hand propping up his head and the other one on his stomach, a complacent look on his face beamed like the moon in the eventide. In a matter of seconds, Steve collapsed from the depletion and he flickered out like a light.

You, on the other hand, felt… Different. It was like your body was replaced with a clone and now you must make peace with the reality that this was your brand new skin. You felt something in you bloomed like a flower in spring. There was electricity in your veins like and you knew that you couldn’t return to what you once were before Steve led you down this path.

You regarded him at his most equanimous state and memorized every featured on his face. This was everything you had ever dreamed of; him, slumbering on your bed after he just made sweet, sweet love to you. His lashes fluttering with his lips slightly part as his soft snores escaped through the crevice. You wanted to touch him, anywhere, anywhere at all where you could palpate the minuscule parts him that composed him into who he is.

You recalled the graze on his knee when he recklessly rode down his bike on a bumpy road, taking a shortcut to the cinema because the film was starting in seven minutes and it took at least twenty to reach from his house.

You recalled the bruise on his cheek from when he was young and stupid; he dared to fight anyone who wouldn’t stop talking during the show.

You recalled the scar on his palm from when a branch scraped his skin when you had your own little summer adventure in the woods.

…And you recalled the first moment you fell in love with him; it was when you cried in fifth grade because your impish classmate, Jason had stolen your favourite pencil and he broke it. Steve comforted you by offering his own pencil even though he barely had enough money to buy another one and he didn’t hesitate in standing up to the boy and punched him on his nose. Jason went home and cried on his bicycle with a bleeding nose. It was also the moment you realized just how lucky you were to have such a considerate best friend like him.

You stargazed the man who you knew by heart like the back of your hand; you began to feel yourself getting drowsy so you let the weariness pulls you down to oblivion, there was no better view than Steve’s face being the last thing that you saw before you could meet him again in your dreams.

-

Steve didn’t realize he had fallen asleep so quickly after he fucked you; goddamnit, how the hell did this even happen? He always got up and leave as soon as possible after he had his fill. He wasn’t one for aftercare and cuddling after sex. He wasn’t planning on to settle in a relationship either.

After Janet was caught screwing Ken who he thought was his friend, he decided that he would stop committing into mundanity. Why on earth would he need to give himself to one woman only when he could have a million other women? He knew he was hot shit. He wasn’t this awkward and scrawny kid that he used to be anymore; he was bigger, bulkier, and braver.

He was also aware of the talent he possessed; he was an excellent performer. He had received countless praises from his schoolmates and his teachers after every school plays. He was going to attain even so much more now that he is in college. It’s a free real estate.

He didn’t need anyone else. The only woman worthy of his attention and devotion was his mom. His mom who had endlessly supported him, loved him and raised him. He made an oath to himself that he was going to pay back all her sweat from hours of drudgery. That means, he had to work his ass off until he no longer had to worry about paying the bills and filling his fridge. Until he could buy Sarah her own Range Rovers.

That also means he had no time to share an apartment with a girl and decorate it with tiny houseplants or talk about how many children they were going to have together. No, he knew that was what you wanted from him. He knew that was how you illustrated your future. He was getting miffed by it already. He’d hate having to pretend that he’s the slightest bit interested in having a conversation of “where is this going?”

So he tried to slip through your grasp as quiet as a ninja to prevent waking you up. You stirred a little bit and he was relieved to see that you didn’t open your eyes. God, we fucked once and he was already this clingy? No, thank you. He cerebrated.

He put on his clothes that were strewed on the floor and sprinted for the knob, letting himself out without looking back. He was free.

-

Natasha had returned from her date a little later than expected; Clint had taken her to the outskirts of town for a late getaway and they lost track of time. By the time she arrived at her dorm, it was nearing three am where there were barely people who were still up.

Except for one person. What the hell is he even doing here?

Natasha saw Steve Rogers coming out of the resident with a blue trench coat hugging his massive figure. He didn’t see her, lucky for him. Because if he had, she would’ve murdered him on spot with her glare. He should’ve thanked his guardian angels in heaven that Natasha was too knackered to obtrude herself in his direction and confront him. If she hadn’t, she would’ve tackled him to the ground. (She could do it, she had done it back in high school when someone tried to mug her. It was as if she was a highly trained Russian spy in another life or something)

She monitored him as he ignited the engine and bolted off his Harley Davidson to God knows where and then she entered her building. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder, did he come here to see you? Perhaps to apologize? Did I successfully knocked some sense into him? There would be a necessary conversation waiting for you in the morning.

-

In the dawn, you woke up with a glow permeating through the drawn curtains and one that emitted from your body. You couldn’t put a word to enunciate it, but it felt rapturous. Just like the ache between your legs.

You expected to see Steve next to you, thinking that he would be there to kiss you good morning and maybe you both could have breakfast together before class starts. But of course, he didn’t stay. Perhaps he left earlier to get ready at his own place and didn’t wanna wake you up? That would’ve been sweet but… was it really the incentive?

“Good morning.” Natasha greeted with a cotton towel wrapped around her body.

“Hey, what time did you come home last night?” you roused from your nestled state.

“Around 3 AM, got a little lost. Clint took us to the outskirts, I almost thought he was planning to kidnap me.” Natasha joked.

You were quiet. You had questions hovering in your head but you didn’t have the courage to voice them.

“Funny story… I ran into Steve Rogers last night. Well, I saw him walk out of the building more precisely.”

“Oh…” there was no curiosity or astonishment in your voice.  

Natasha had a dubious look on her face, “did he come to see you?”

“…Yeah, he did.”

“Did he come to apologize?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Then what did he do?”

You bit your lip replaying the sin that you committed last night. You could still feel him between your legs and you felt your body tingled at the flashback. Your lack of respond told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh, no… Y/N…”

“No, it was actually… Good. He was really good.”

“Sweetie,” she asserted to make you listen. “You know you were only one of the hundreds of women he had slept with, right?” She postulated.

“What makes you say that?” you were dejected. But deep down, you knew… You knew that she wasn’t mistaken. But it doesn’t mean people can’t change… Right?

“I’ve dealt with men like him many times, y/n. I knew he was trouble as soon as I first saw him at the party. Remember all those girls who surrounded him like he was Charles Manson? I’ll bet you $20 that he had put his penis in every single one of them.”

Your words were clogged in your throat. You felt the pang in your heart at her truthful words. As much as you’d like to inculpate her for speaking nonsense, you knew better. Steve didn’t apologize, he never even showed a single shred of remorse for forsaking you in high school. He only came to take advantage of you and then fleed without saying goodbye.

Maybe the blame was on you, for closing your ears on your own intuition. For allowing him to climb inside your body and getting away unscathed after desecrating your innocence. You felt resentment, hurt, defeat, sorrow and loss filling you up like steaming hot water, searing you inside out. But you hated yourself more for knowing that despite all the incriminating turpitude he inflicted on you, you still yearned for him. You still loved him.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

super late but here is day 6!! also: if the cottage was actually destroyed i’m sorry, but i combed through TOTS a LOT and couldn’t seem to find any proof it was actually fully destroyed so... please just suspend your disbelief for this one, lads

CASSUNZEL WEEK DAY 6 - TRUST AND HEALING

Interior decorating is something Rapunzel never figured she and Cass would have in common, but somehow, here they are.

To be perfectly honest, when Rapunzel decided to return to Gothel’s old cottage (or what was left of it, anyway) she wasn’t really sure how Cassandra would take the news. How exactly does one explain that they’re rebuilding your nearly-destroyed childhood home that may or may not hold a boatload of trauma inside its walls? In the end she had taken the coward’s way out and written her to break the news, fully expecting to be met with silence on Cass’s end, as so often happens when she receives news that’s hard to swallow. The fact that she returned to Corona less than a month after the letter had been sent surprised Rapunzel to no end.

(“So, we’ve got our work cut out for us,” she had said nonchalantly, climbing off of Fidella’s back and rolling up her sleeves as Rapunzel stared in shock. “Where should we start?”

“I-I didn’t think you’d actually – well, hang on a moment,” Rapunzel had replied, chickening out of the tough conversation. “Let me just find my clipboard.”)

Cass has been… a little quiet on the matter, to be honest. It’s been easy enough to keep distracted by the house; the foundation and floors have been rebuilt where they’d been torn through by black rocks, and Rapunzel had the roof rethatched several weeks earlier. Cassandra has thrown herself into repairing furniture, refitting the window panes and getting the water mill back up and running again, while Rapunzel has taken to repairing torn curtains, scrubbing mould and mildew and moss from the walls, weeding the cracks where plant life has inevitably sprung up from and filling them in afterwards. The effort to seal up the entrance to Gothel’s strange underground mirror lair takes the both of them, and although neither of them have much to say, it gives Rapunzel a grim satisfaction that the burned, smashed up hideout can’t be reached any longer.

This part of fixing the house takes just over two weeks of dawn-til-dusk of hard work, and each evening they ride back to the castle and fall into Rapunzel’s bed, too tired to really talk about it. Eugene finds the whole thing bizarre and doesn’t shy away from telling them so, but Rapunzel kind of got the feeling that he wouldn’t understand it from the moment she mentioned the idea to him.

(“Why are you dragging this ordeal out?” he had asked her one night, just two days before Cass showed up at the house without warning. “And why bring Cass into it at all? I don’t want to police your process, but isn’t it time to put Gothel behind you both and… learn to let go of the past?”

Rapunzel hadn’t known how to answer him. “It’s just something I want to do,” she had said instead. “And Gothel hurt her too, Eugene. I can’t keep it from her.”)

They don’t need to talk about it; not if they don’t want to. Rapunzel and Cassandra seem to have come to a silent agreement that they won’t push for some big heart-to-heart that ends in tears, or an argument that eventually turns into a greater understanding of each other’s pasts.

When it comes to the house that Gothel built, nothing really needs to be said at all. Right?

…

“I can’t believe we’ve done this, Cass.”

“Tell me about it. What exactly ignited this passion project of yours, anyway?”

“I wanted to breathe new life into this place, I guess.”

The two of them stand back and stare at their surroundings in satisfaction. There’s no more cobwebs or ivy or moss covering the walls, and where there are stains Rapunzel has thrown on a cream wash. The floors and ceiling and roof are repaired, the windows are no longer cracked and smashed, and the creak of the water mill can be heard faintly from outside. The salvaged furniture is stacked up in the centre of the room, and Rapunzel has decided that tomorrow they’ll take a trip to the market to replace the items that were too far gone to be saved.

Today, they’re focusing on the walls.

Rapunzel’s vision is a little… eclectic. Pale, neutral walls might be best, and perhaps they can be accented with floral imagery, or maybe even a mural of the cottage itself. Another part of her, however, dreams in full colour; cerulean walls, or perhaps celadon, with bright sunny yellow flowers and trees with purple leaves – and why stop there? She could paint some horses in a meadow, or birds soaring through the sky. Why not paint fairies, unicorns, dragons? Make this house its own storybook experience?

“I’m so torn on my vision,” she confesses to Cassandra as she stands between buckets upon buckets of paint, an entire rainbow of choice laid out in front of her. “I need a better idea of what to paint before I can even think about washes. Any thoughts?”

“I’m a little creatively stinted, Rapunzel,” Cass deadpans. “I thought you had a clear vision of this place when you started out?”

“I can’t narrow it down. Do I want to go simple, or do I want to completely transform this place?”

Cass shrugs listlessly, sitting down cross-legged by the stacks of furniture. “You just have to listen to your gut.”

Oh, if guts could talk, Rapunzel would be all ears. Her frown deepens as she contemplates her options. Maybe she should find a compromise. Pale walls, vibrant art? Maybe that will work best.

Hesitantly, she reaches for a muted green (the bedroom area can be a forest mural now, she’s decided, or maybe a marsh) and heads over to a wall in need of a fresh coat. Cassandra joins her, a comically large paintbrush in hand, and they paint in a sullen silence.

“So, Cass. I’m… I’m glad you came back to help me out with this,” Rapunzel ventures. “You didn’t have to.”

“You sounded afraid in your letter,” Cass says coolly, with a long sweeping stroke. “Like you thought I would be angry at you for doing this, so I thought I should come back. Besides, I… I wanted to see it for myself.”

Cassandra can be frustratingly hard to read sometimes, and now happens to be one such instance. Rapunzel isn’t sure what she wants right now. It was easy enough not to talk at first, but something about pouring some of her own flair into these walls makes her uneasy – has her overcome with this urge to get everything off their chests before she proceeds. What memories does Cass have of this place? Does it hurt to be here, even if she refuses to show it? Is there some good left in this place, parts that Cassandra might not want to let go of?

“Do you like what you see?” Rapunzel asks quietly.

“...I don’t know yet. I need a fuller picture before I draw any conclusions.”

Rapunzel feels like – hopes – she has some insight into how Cass might be feeling right now. Returning to the tower for the first time since reuniting with her family had given her all sorts to think about, and watching it fall had filled her with a nauseating combination of crisis and catharsis. After all, there were some good memories amongst all the long, drawn out days of agonising boredom and walking on eggshells around Gothel, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse. It wasn’t love, and her world was so small before she left the tower behind.

Even if her time with Gothel was far briefer, Rapunzel can’t help but wonder if Cassandra holds echoes of fond memories somewhere in there, as few and far between as they may have been.

“You know, when I returned to this place, I didn’t think the house would be salvageable,” Rapunzel confesses to the silence. “Given the spike tearing through it, and the way the mountain crumbled inside, I figured it would probably have fallen apart. So seeing that there was still a chance to restore it… I don’t know. I couldn’t really think about anything else, for weeks afterwards. In the end, Eugene just told me to get it all out of my system. He’s not exactly happy about it, but…”

“Well sure, the wedding will suck if you’re too busy thinking about complimentary paint colours to focus on your vows,” Cass points out dryly. Rapunzel laughs.

“Yeah, you have a point.” As she goes to dip her paintbrush again, she glances to the wall adjacent; cream, blank, inviting.

“...Do you have a date in mind yet?”

“Not yet. We’re thinking spring or summer though. We need time to get all the arrangements together, after all.” Rapunzel purses her lip. “You know, I think I’m going to start on some detailing. Mind finishing this off?”

Cass nods, and carries on in that same long silence. Rapunzel moves onto the wall. She envisions a recreation of that cottage. She’s been sketching it a lot, lately, and goes to retrieve her journal.

“You’re making a mural of the cottage?” Cass wrinkles her nose as Rapunzel leans the journal up against a beam at the edge of the wall. “So you step inside, just to see the outside all over again?”

“Well, it’s picturesque!” Rapunzel says. She lingers, paintbrush trailing in the beige she picked out for the base of the house. “Unless you don’t want me to paint it?”

A pause. “No, go ahead. Paint it. It doesn’t matter to me either way.”

Rapunzel begins slowly at first, glancing between the wall in front of her and the woman two metres away, still listlessly dragging the brush. She’s changed a little; her hair is getting longer, scraped back into a slightly lopsided ponytail to keep it out the way. Rapunzel is tempted to drag a comb through and tie it more evenly, but judging from the tension in Cassandra’s shoulders, it would probably be met with resistance.

After a while, however, Rapunzel soon falls into the trance of painting – absorbed into the gentle strokes of the brush, planning the subtle lighting and how to translate the details of the house in simple splotches of paint. She even forgets her original plight to talk things through with Cass, losing her awareness of the world around her until it is simply her and the brush and the wall, coming together to paint this fairytale home, where from now on only good things will happen and happy memories will be made and no child will ever feel abandoned or unwanted or hurt ever again–

“Rapunzel!”

Cass grabs her arm and Rapunzel jerks out of her vision, staring at her in confusion. Her paintbrush, dripping jade, is just inches from the edge of the beam in the corner. The stretch of grass she was in the middle of painting now has an uneven glob that slowly rolls down like a teardrop. Cass grips her arm tight, eyes bright with alarm.

“Cassandra, what’s wrong?”

“I…” Her grip loosens and, brow furrowing, she releases Rapunzel’s arm. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong, you just…”

“I just?” Rapunzel prompts, bewildered.

“The beam. You were – you were going to get paint on the beam.”

“Oh. Uh, good reflexes! I didn’t realise.” She laughs nervously. “Guess I got a little carried away, huh?”

“Yeah, well.” Cass mutters, stepping back. She sets her paintbrush back in its bucket and runs her fingers through her hair, uncaring that she smudges green paint against her scalp in the process. “Just be careful, Rapunzel, all right?”

“Uh, sure.” Rapunzel frowns. “Cass, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Raps.” She turns her back. “Look, I’m going to get some fresh air.”

She heads towards the door without looking back, leaving the door wide open and swinging as she goes. Rapunzel watches after her, thoroughly confused, before turning back to the wall. Maybe Cassandra does hate the mural. Maybe she hates everything Rapunzel is doing right now, and is just here to intervene when things get too much? After all, things have been strange between them since she returned. They’ve barely hugged or kissed or held hands, and Rapunzel knows they’re not in the giddy, starry-eyed closeness stage of their relationship anymore, and Cass has never been huge on big gestures of affection, but still… it’s impossible to ignore this atmosphere any longer.

As she sets her own paint brush aside, dejected, something catches the corner of her eye and she pauses. There’s something on the beam. When Rapunzel looks, she can’t work out at first why it grabbed her attention; it’s just a chip in the wood, a scrape maybe, but it’s fairly deep. She only noticed it from bending over, it’s not too far off the ground… and that’s when she sees more scratches. Some are shallower than others, some more controlled and some extremely wobbly and veering off to one side. But she can make out that they’re more than just someone chipping away at wood when they’re bored. There are… scribbles, wonky bodies, twigs for arms.

The lower part of the beam is covered in a child’s carvings.

The longer Rapunzel stares, the colder she begins to feel inside. This beam isn’t the only one; there are dozens of wooden trimmings, as her feet carry her across the room, and each with the same cast of characters – a tall scribble and a shorter scribble. Mother and daughter.

She needs to find Cass.

Rapunzel doesn’t need to look hard. She barely takes two steps outside before she sees the glint of Cassandra’s sword as it slashes through the air, sparring with herself. If she hears Rapunzel approach, she doesn’t acknowledge her until Rapunzel offers, “I saw the carvings. I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Why be sorry? You didn’t know they were there,” she mutters, swinging again, and again. “Nobody did. Even I didn’t, until we started the wash. Once we were standing there, the memories kind of hit me all at once.”

“They were yours, then.” No response. “...They looked quite advanced, for a four-year-old’s drawings.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do to pass the time, once the floors had been swept and the beds had been made?” Cass snaps. Another swing. “I had nothing but free time with the house to myself, after all.”

“Cass, can we please talk about this without the deadly weapon thrown in?” Rapunzel pleads. Cass ignores her. Another swing.

“I’m just lucky she was never around long enough to really pay attention to them. I mean, can you imagine how she would have scolded me? Or worse?” Another swing.

“Cassandra, please. Put down the sword. Let me near you.”

“I don’t get it, Rapunzel! Why did… why did I just – why did I ever let Zhan Tiri fool me into thinking she might have loved me?”

“Cass, stop!”

Cass raises her sword to strike again when she feels arms wrap around her waist, halting her in her tracks. Rapunzel clings on, pressing her cheek to Cassandra’s back and feeling her erratic breathing as she stands still, finally allowing the sword to lower gently.

“...Why did it have to be this cottage, Rapunzel?” she croaks. “Isn’t it better to leave it all buried?”

“I don’t think so,” Rapunzel whispers. “Darling, I don’t think that will work forever.”

Cass sinks to her knees, taking Rapunzel with her, and they kneel in silence as the breeze rustles the trees around them.

“I feel sick,” Cass says dully, setting her sword down in the grass. Rapunzel presses her forehead to the space between Cassandra’s shoulder blades, breathing in her smell, trying to soothe her somehow.

“This is too weird, isn’t it?” she murmurs.

“Rapunzel, it’s so fucking weird.” Rapunzel winces. Cass does well not to curse in front of her, but, well… maybe now isn’t the best time to comment on it. “You never even lived here. Why do you have this need to mold it to your worldview instead of letting it rot away quietly like everybody else was happy to do?”

“This is a beautiful place,” Rapunzel protests. “Isn’t it beautiful? Why should it have to die because of the terrible things she did? You were born in this cottage, Cassandra, that means something! Gothel was a horrible person and she made both of our lives miserable, but – but that doesn’t mean we can’t still find something beautiful in this place.”

“Not everything has to be beautiful, or even saved. Fixing a house isn’t going to fix us, is it?”

The sharpness of her words cut right through Rapunzel, and pulls away from Cass, stunned. Cass cranes her neck to face her, regret already written all over.

“You’re right. I’m a fool, aren’t I, Cass? Because I – I actually hoped it would.” Rapunzel buries her head in her hands. “Darn it, I… I want to move on, just like you do. I always think I’m over the tower and Gothel, but then when I found this place… I just thought about how good it would feel to take it away from her and make it beautiful and then some new family could live here, a loving family who take care of each other and don’t b-belittle their kids…”

Cass turns around fully, and reaches over to squeeze Rapunzel’s shoulders.

“Don’t, Raps. You’re not foolish for wanting those things, all right? I just… I don’t think painting some walls will bring you any closure. And being here, surrounded by all these things that remind us of her, isn’t helping either.”

“I shouldn’t have written to you. Eugene told me to leave you out of this because he knew this was a bad idea and we’d both get hurt from it, but I didn’t listen, and now-”

“Seriously, stop. Do not give Fitzherbert the satisfaction of being right about something.” Rapunzel peeks up at her, and Cass offers her a small smile. “I didn’t feel like this the whole time. It has been kind of fun, repairing things and putting it all back together, but then I’d remember where we were and wonder why we were doing this, and – and I didn’t know how to even talk to you about it.”

“I thought you just didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t try to push it.” Rapunzel smiles faintly. “Eugene is going out of his mind, trying to understand the logic of the situation.”

“He’s not the only one.” Cass leans forward and kisses Rapunzel softly. “Look, if you truly believe that redecorating will somehow cleanse this house of Gothel forever and give us some catharsis, I’ll trust your judgement. But only if you trust mine when I say that this isn’t the only way to do that.”

Rapunzel nods, leaning over to kiss her back.

“I’m sorry Gothel hurt you,” she murmurs. Cass sighs sadly.

“I’m sorry she hurt you too.”

“I wish Zhan Tiri hadn’t forced you to remember all of this, but… do you regret knowing?” Rapunzel asks, running a thumb across Cassandra’s cheek soothingly. Cass leans into her touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“No. I always knew something was missing, so even though it hurts, at least the pieces are all there. I just – I wish it had gone differently, that’s all. I wish she had been different.”

They sit in silence, neither sure of what else to say, and Rapunzel glances back over at the house. It stands stout and quiet, charming on the outside, but somehow she can't bring herself to go back inside. “...You know, maybe we should leave it for today.”

Cass quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “Really? It’s barely noon, and the walls won’t paint themselves.”

“It’ll still be standing tomorrow! Besides, we’ve been perfect strangers since you came back. I want to take a moment just to be with you.”

She flops back, stretching out on the soft grass and staring up at the cloudless sky above. It truly is beyond beautiful out here. Cassandra’s face hovers over hers, presses a kiss to her brow, and then she lies back beside her.

“You know, when you take Gothel out of the equation, this place is really peaceful,” Cass comments.

“If we have our way, by the time we’re done no one will associate it with her ever again,” Rapunzel agrees. “Wouldn’t it be nice?”

“Paradise,” Cass remarks, and Rapunzel can hear the wry smile in her voice as she speaks. “It would be just paradise.”

When it comes to the house that Gothel built, they’re going to build it back up, better than ever before. Nothing else needs to be said. The clouds drift on and they lie there, hand in hand.

[gthamwrites]

My Eyes Follow Your Eyes, Nose, Lips

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader (F/M)

Genre: Domestic fluff, non-graphic smut, established relationships

Words: 1,635

Chapters: 1/1 (one-shot)

Find me @ tokkitae on AO3

Summary: A sleepless night and lovely good morning with Jason Todd.

Rain pelts the window and thunder roars throughout the city. The bedroom is dark as you open your eyes as the thunder shakes the walls. It is cold that you sit up, struggling to keep quiet, and pulling the ivory comforter higher to cover both bodies. Making sure that the blanket is tucked in on your side, you scoot closer into him. As curled up as you are, you appreciate that his large frame is enough to offer more warmth than the blanket itself. Closing your eyes, you hear soft snores from above and the rising and falling of his chest against your forehead. The rain mixed with his breaths, lulls you into sleep and dreams appear.

Morning comes and light fills the room, showcasing the dust particles that move ever so gradual. Outside, birds sing as the rain has passed and pavement outside is stained. Cars honk and slamming doors from neighbors outside your apartment make ways to yours. The sounds awake you from the arms of Morpheus, so you open one eye followed by the other. You are groggy and remnants of your dream a few seconds ago, still fresh in mind. You yawn and see the face of your lover in view. A thump is made from your chest and you swallow. Who allowed such an individual as alluring as he is into your life? Who allowed your paths to cross again in your one chance at life compared to his two?

The dark of his hair stands out against the white of the pillow. He sleeps on his side, where every feature of his face is yours to see and marvel. A few fresh scars stands on his cheekbones from last night’s endeavors out and you are thankful that they are not as deep compared to the others. Your eyes trace upwards towards the black and white strands of hair that has grown from the last time you trimmed it. The strands fall into his face and you reach out to remove them, tucking strands behind his ear and others pushed to the side. He stirs, yet he refuses to open his cerulean eyes.

With your hand still upon his face, you trace to the sides of his jaw, where his stubble pricks at fingertips. Tapping three times with your index, he makes no movement and so you continue towards his lips. Laying the same index finger on the center of his lips, they are soft and a light shade of pink against his golden skin. It’s amazing how they have explored you just a few hours ago. They have left a mark behind your ear, where it’s unnoticeable to you except for him. Pursing your lips, he is tempting to not press your lips to his and hard to not nibble the lower lip. As you stare at his lips, his hand creeps up and grabs your wrist. The action makes your heart jump and a smile forms onto his face. Cerulean stares into your eyes causing you to freeze on the spot.

“G’morning, Doll,” his voice is low and hoarse and did you sure love waking up to the sound of his morning voice.

“Morning to you, Love,” you reply while smiling at him.

He grips your wrist a bit, but not enough to make you pull away and that is when you know that your name for him has a huge effect. He blinks a few times and you both stare at each other in silence as if in harmony with one another. It’s hard to look away when you have his attention and you love having his attention as much as he loves having yours.

As he remains staring at you, a mischievous look reflects onto his face. You notice and before you can say anything, he takes the wrist which he holds and drags his fingers a bit lower. Watching him do so, you remain still, as you are curious to see what he is planning. With his hand nearing your forearms, his lips brush at your pulse from your wrist with his eyes close. Your cheeks warm as you watch him do it. He continues to kiss at the same spot a few more times, before opening his eyes. He smirks at you, causing you to swallow hard at the look he has on.

This sly boy, you think to yourself.

“Jason,” you breathe out and he continues to kiss the same spot again as he watches your reaction. You are burning from his touch and the way his eyes challenges you to collapse.

“Hmm?” He hums and then he flips himself over you. His bare chest slightly presses up against yours and the contact feels amazing. You drag your fingers on the feel of old scars on his back as you pull him closer. They are the ones that you have traced many times over the years, some long and others short in various places. Coming further up, you reach the scratches you left last night.

Jason’s forearms on the sides on your head and he is focused on the pink and purple marks on you. The marks causes him to lower down and bury his head into your neck. He kisses them along with not forgetting to add new ones for his own enjoyment. Soft lips press a trail from your neck to clavicle and then back up again. He loves to do this as he gets to feel the accelerating beating of your heart through skin. You tilt your head to the side to allow him for better access. As you do so, he finds the right spot and bites lightly, earning him a moan that slips from your lips. Your fingers find the back of his head and you tug his raven locks. In response, Jason licks his bite and you moan even more.

“What a sweet sound this morning,” he whispers and begins to trail downwards to your chest.

He reaches the top of your chest and brings your tank top down from your shoulders towards your waist. With a finger, he drags it around your breasts. It perks up and he lightly flicks and swirls the nipples, the action driving you crazy. He blows hot air against one breast and continues his caresses. In another hand, the coldness of a metal band is against your skin as he massages your other breast and tingles spread throughout your body. He kisses your sternum and comes back up towards one breast again.

“Stop tha-,” you say impatiently and then he brings his mouth down. Pressing your head back deeper into the plush pillows, your legs brush between Jason. You feel him against you and the feeling of hardness behind his pants causes him to moan. His moan vibrates against your breast and you caress the nape of his neck. He releases your breast and looks up through lashes at you.

“Oh, the things you do to me,” he says and you roll your eyes at him.

Jason goes downwards and stops where your navel is. Bringing both hands onto the sides of your hips, his thumb circles around. A sigh of contentment releases from him.

“Ah, how could I forget to say good morning to you too?”

Jason bends down to kiss your plump belly and remains there for a few seconds. “There you go, kiddo.”

The sight of him bonding with both of your child makes your heart swell and love for him grow even more. He remains there and begins to hum a simple tune as if trying to stir the little one inside to kick. You watch in awe and play with the strands of white as he lays between your legs. There is nothing more than you could have wanted in this life, other than Jason and the child growing inside. As the high from before disappears and in its place is intense adoration.

“Jason,” you softly say and he looks up, “I love you.”

The words leaving your lips easy as they are, but heavy at first. You recall the good and hard times with Jason. The miscommunications, hurt, tears, and insecurities. The laughter, inside jokes, secret glances and touches, and the listen of his heartbeat matched with yours. Before, those three words were difficult in the beginning. Now through the blood, sweat, and tears, throughout your years with him, you are blessed to hear them leave not only yours but Jason’s lips 24/7.

Jason’s face displays a shade of pink and he buries his head into your belly. The reaction never gets old and you chuckle.

“God, you’re so cute,” he mumbles. It earns him a ruffle through his hair. Pulling away, he looks up from and his eyes bore into yours.

“I love you more, and-,” he kisses your child, “you too.” He leaves his place between your legs and reaches over to kiss you and you reciprocate the lovely gesture.

Lips pulling apart, he settles his head onto the pillow next to yours, “I’m very lucky to have you both.” He comes back to touch your stomach and then you feel a faint kick. Jason smiles and the kicks occur even more as he feels them.

“Adorable,” he says and brushes his thumbs over your skin as the little one continues to stir.

Reaching down, you place your hand over Jason’s and you hum in approval.

“I guess it’s time to start our day,” you say and squeeze his hand.

Getting up, Jason removes his hand from your stomach and watches you reaching for a towel that is on the ottoman. “Well, Love, care to join me in a bath?”

The question makes him laugh heartily and he nods. “Lead the way, Doll,” he says and gets out of bed following behind.

[alexanderlightweight]

a truth as sweet as my name on your lips

@whumptober2019​  Prompt 3: Delirium

Fandom: Shadowhunters - Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Warnings: Delirium, Hopeful Ending, Illness, Amnesia 

ao3 link

“Magnus?”  Alec called, his vision obscured by shadows.  He felt overheated and trapped, locked by some strange and unyielding confinement.  “Magnus!”

There was no response and Alec felt more lost than ever.  In all things, Magnus was his point of stability, their home was his sanctuary and when the world crashed around the, Magnus’ arms were the place where he too could fall apart.

Here, in this never-ending darkness, he was alone.

Alec struggled again but harsh, unfamiliar hands grabbed his arms and shoulders.  They held him down roughly, hoarse voices shouting loud words and demanding his attention. 

Alec refused to give it.  If they wanted him to listen, to calm down and respond to their orders and restrains than they were fools.  Alec would fight his way free from this captivity or Magnus would rescue him. There was no alternative.

At one point, the voice reminded him of Jace’s voice.  However he flinched from the hands that accompanied it.  It sounded like and may have even felt like his parabatai’s presence but that wasn’t enough to soothe him.  If it were really Jace, then he would have found Magnus, not added to the torment and wrongness that Alec felt without his husband.  

They were the enemy, all of them.

They tried, time and again they sent familiar voices to him.  Time and again they failed.  

Alec would wait forever if he needed to, but he would not give them what they wanted, no matter how painful it was and how tempting the comforting voice of his mother and the soothing coolness of her stolen palm felt.  

Finally, Alec let himself drift.  They expected him to fight and he was, however wars weren’t waged only on the battlefield, they were waged in the minds of the leader.  

He played unconscious until the voices dimmed, when the lights faded and the hands left him, then he planned.

-

“He’s not getting any better.”  Jace accused, “you promised that once the Silent Brother’s saw him, that they’d be able to heal him.”

“I know,” Maryse said.  Her voice was thick and hoarse and she told herself that it was from talking, not from holding back tears.  “However they don’t know what’s causing this. Whatever illness Alec has, not even their sacred runes can heal it.”

“Then call a Warlock.”  Isabelle said, still young but so determined and strong despite her fear, “New York is full of powerful Warlocks.  If hiring one through the Institute doesn’t work, then we can commission one personally!” 

“No Warlock is going to help us,” Maryse said, “the High Warlock has made sure of that.  He’ll attend personally to the Institute if needed but the Lightwood family is blacklisted.”

“What?  Why?” Both of her children asked and Maryse simply shook her head.  The possibility of losing Alec was already too much, she couldn’t bear losing two more of her children when they realized that their brother might die because of her and Robert’s actions.  

“I’m not a Lightwood,” Jace suddenly said.  “I can ask him to come as a Wayland, say that it’s for my parabatai.  He doesn’t need to know it’s for a Lightwood.”

“If he finds out, the consequences will be harsh.”  Maryse warned but her heart leapt, beating a little faster with renewed hope.  

“As long as he finds out after he heals Alec, then I’m okay with that.”

-

Magnus paced through his loft, back and forth and then again, repeating the pattern as he murmured incantation after incantation into the silent room.  An empty bottle of whiskey lay abandoned on his floor, shards of crystal caught the sunlight from the glass he’d thrown against the wall in frustration.  Shattering it had done nothing for his mood and the whiskey had done nothing to ease the heartbreak he felt.

Nothing helped with the devastation he felt, the empty longing in his heart or the hollowness of his soul.  

There was no reason for it.  He hadn’t bared his heart to another in over a century.  His walls were built up high and his defenses shored yet Magnus felt the most broken he’d ever been.  

He’d lost something.  Something so dear to him that everything else paled in comparison.

When he found what was missing, he would protect it with every fiber of his being and shatter every single enemy in his way.  Not his time in Edom under the loving care of his father had brought him this much agony.  Never before had he endured such a torment as this and he would make sure that he never would again.

A fire-message appeared, flames waking him from his thoughts and he welcomed the distraction.  A missive, from one of the Shadowhunters at the Institute. Some rather uninteresting and useless emotionality concerning that ridiculous parabatai bond and oh-  well then .  He did need to clear his thoughts and what better to focus on than an illness not even the revered Silent Brother’s knew of.

Magnus gathered his magic around him, tempered the amount of alcohol in his blood and summoned a pouch of potions.  In payment for his services he would extract a favor from the young Shadowhunter, it was also good to have an ace up one’s sleeve and he might need one every soon.    

-

The grey never lightened and the darkness never left him completely.  Alec was thirsty, so thirsty that if he could he would have cried just to wet his lips with his own tears.  His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth and he no longer could call for his husband.  

Then the ache lessened.  It still felt as though he were being torn apart, monsters reaching into his heart with sharp claws and shredding what belonged to Magnus.  

Despite the pain, he hoped.

-

Magnus knew immediately that something was amiss.  His magic had practically begun to sing the moment he stepped into the Institute.  The lackluster color of it remained, the pale dove grey that had replaced it’s normal cerulean hue, but it felt stronger.  As though it had a purpose again.

-

“Magnus?”  

It was a Lightwood, but not just any Lightwood.  It was his husband. Alexander Gideon Lightwood- Bane .  The love of his life, being restrained by straps and blankets while being surrounded by unknown Shadowhunters. 

Magnus couldn’t remember everything but he remembered enough.  The blond one held some importance but his name escaped him. In the end, it didn’t matter and he only needed to know one thing.  Magic surged, saturated with color and pushing aside every hindrance as Magnus stalked to the bed. His magic knew, just as he did that the man on the bed was his love.  The light of his life and as it worked, as the ache soothed and the agony faded away he watched with bated breath as brilliant, hazel eyes opened. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed the color of Alexander’s eyes until he saw them again.

“Magnus!”  Was said with such relief that Magnus knew it could only be an echo of what he felt himself.  

There was no doubt.  Despite the gaps in his memory, this was his husband.  Just as Alexander knew him, he knew Alexander and by every bit of power that he held in his body, they would be safe.  

Together.

Magnus moved without hesitation.  The Shadowhunters were still too stunned to react as a portal formed and Alec, still weak reached to him from the bed.  There was a pained, desperate noise from one of the fallen but they both ignored it. He caught Alexander, holding him up and pulling him close and then they were safe.  The portal closed behind them and he gently let his husband fall back onto their bed, the golden sheets practically welcoming him as he lay where he would always belong.

A hand pressed to his cheek and he kissed the palm of Alec’s hand even as everything settled back into place.  He felt whole again, complete and renewed and as his magic healed Alexander he knew from his husband’s adoring smile that he felt the same.

“I knew you would come.”  

“I knew I would find you.”

[6ftgirlfriend]

Hi Gao 👋🏻 , how about no.30 for the Elu prompts ?

#30: “It’s not what it looks like…”

…

Eliott knew that Lucas' birthday was coming up soon and Lucas had been pretty adamant about receiving nothing by saying, "it's fine, baby. I don't need anything this year. I only wanna spend time with you." Oh sure, Eliott could do that and be a complete failure as a boyfriend or he could plan a fun surprise party for Lucas, which proved to be more difficult than he imagined it to be. Since they were always tied at the hip, ones where the other would go, the other will follow. Which was why when Eliott tried to be discreet in keeping a secret from him, Eliott didn't notice something was brewing. An unpleasant shade of green began to form within Lucas.

Jealousy was an ugly shade that did not match well with Lucas. It doesn't suit anyone, but especially not with Lucas. His eyes held a drop of cerulean blue, a shade that Eliott wanted to write long sappy verses about forever. His lips that were rosy pink and alluring to form that perfect pout, the things Eliott wanted to do to them was sinful. His skin that was creamy and smooth upon every touch, just feeling them against his own drove Eliott insane with desire. Fuck, there were so many colors that made Lucas' existence pop and glow. And it's still not green.

Eliott could have sworn; those big blue eyes were tracking his every move as he tried subtlety sending texts to the boys on planning the big surprise birthday party. As subtle as he can be, anyway. Which was getting increasingly harder as they began approaching the days before Lucas' birthday, Eliott could only hope Lucas doesn’t suspect anything.

But the late night discussion via text with the boys about the party plans with Eliott going as far as to having to white lie in order to cover for why was he was working out so late. Obviously, he needed to work extra shifts to raise money for the party, but Eliott couldn't say that, and so, he fibbed. Saying his workplace was getting busier and they needed him. Lucas seemed to have bought that, right?

Absolutely not. Lucas was getting too anxious and paranoid for any sane person to handle. Lucas didn't want to jump to conclusions nor did he want to seem like the over possessive type but—Oh fuck it. He was jealous, and he needed answers. The little voice of Lucille was coming back to haunt him again about Eliott having "others." It wasn't fair to assume Eliott was having an episode when Eliott has been dodgy for a whole month now. Lucas has gotten better at spotting the signs, and this was not it. It was something different, and Lucas did not like it one bit. Having decided it was enough, Lucas decides to speak up on the day of his birthday.

...

"Be honest with me, Eliott. Are you cheating on me?"

Oh, fuck.

Eliott immediately recoils from his phone. He had been intently texting the party group chat. The boys were informing him that they were almost done setting up everything and that people were slowly making their way to the party. Eliott didn't think it'd go this far, but the way Lucas was holding back his tears as his nose began to show that lovely shade of red was sending Eliott into panic mode.

"Wha—of course not, Lucas! Lucas, listen to me, I would never do that to you." Eliott said hastily and made his way over to Lucas, cautiously. Almost as if he was approaching a wounded animal or rather, a very distressed hedgehog. Eliott knew he fucked up the moment he held Lucas face to look into his ocean eyes. To only have them burst out tidal waves as his boyfriend falls apart in his arms.

"Fuck! Eliott, pl-please tell me it's not true." Lucas muffled pleas was barely audible as he cried into Eliott's chest as he squeezed his torso, like a kid who didn't want to let go of their favorite toy. "Don't leave me…"

It was breaking his heart. Eliott needed to lighten up the mood, required to make Lucas stop crying. Anything! Fuck! He had no one else to blame but himself. He should've realized all his suspicious activity was going to come back to bite his ass one way or another.  The result was either an emotional wreck, Lucas or an angry outburst Lucas. It turns out it was the former.

He tried to soothe the shaking Lucas, "sssshhh, I'm not going anywhere, my love. It's going to be okay—"

After a moment, Lucas seemed to have stopped entirely altogether as he looks up from Eliott's chest, looking determined now as his eyes glowed. "Ouais, I'll be okay as soon as I see who you've been texting for the last couple of weeks!"

“It’s not what it looks like…” Eliott tries to explain but was cut off by Lucas.

"—Well, it looks like to me, you've been far more engaged in some 'chat' than having realized it's your boyfriend's birthday today!"

Yup, it seems he was getting the angry Lucas now. Eliott braced himself for the impact when suddenly his phone began to ring. Not even a second goes by, and Lucas reaches for the phone before Eliott does.

Holding up his hands as Eliott surrenders to Lucas' flashing eyes. Lucas answers the phone.

"—Yo, Eliott! Where you at? The party is starting. Everyone is asking for the birthday boy!" Came Yann's voice from the other line.

Eliott watched the way Lucas' expressions went from a defensive facade to having his eyes grow to the size of saucers as he absorbed the information and was now looking like he was going to cry once again.

"...Uh-Ahem, I'm coming soon, Yann. Thank you for telling us." But Lucas was now grinning mischievously. "But first, I gotta have a little chat with my lovely boyfriend."

"Oh shit! Lucas found out guys! Uh—” Lucas hung up before Yann could finish. Eliott gulped as Lucas finally put down the phone and stared at him. A predator was coming for the kill.

"W-wait, Lucas! Forgive me! Ouch—” Lucas only came at him with a pillow, and soon they were pillow fighting as Lucas curses him out for keeping this a secret from him. Driving him mad with worry and jealousy. Eliott only could reply with, "uh haha, surprise?" Before getting hit in the face with a pillow again.

"Never do that again, I would rather have you tell me than being sneaky like that, you asshole!"

"Okay, okay. But you know I'm your asshole."

"Damn right, you are!"

"...But Lucas, I'm sorry for making you think that I could leave you—.”

"Sshhh, it's fine. Just don’t. I love you too, you big sappy dope."

"I love you so much, Lucas. Happy birthday."

"Thank you, baby. But if you keep sweet talking me, I'm afraid we wouldn't make it to the party."

"Who said we couldn't arrive late, after all, it's your birthday party."

"Exactly. It's my birthday party, and I was the last to know about it, and I don't want to be the last to arrive. So let's go!"

"..."

"You can give me another special birthday present when we come back…"

"Mmmm, that is tempting."

"Oh, please, you can't resist me."

"I'm not even fighting it, so consume me. I want you to consume me, Lucas."

"Uh..W-what time we do have to be there, again?"

"As I said, it's your birthday, baby. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck! You. I want you."

"And how can I say no? Come here, let me make it better…"

...

A/N: Hiiiii thank you Shamrin! I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you like it too!

[ciel-plusultra]

Sweet Disposition

Ciel laid on his side in bed, watching the rain roll down the window pane. It was an interesting sensation, to see the droplets slide against the glass while tears rolled down his porcelain cheeks. The weather always seemed to match his mood lately, and he hated spring. The dreary grey and the lingering smell of wet earth dulled his senses. He felt nothing.

His fingers stroked one of the several warm fleece blankets that Sebastian adorned their bed with. Sebastian always knew the little comforts to ease Ciel’s ache. The soft scent of lavender hung in the air, courtesy of the oils Sebastian added to their sheets when he washed them. Ciel’s hand mindlessly traveled to his pregnant belly and began rubbing it. He felt so emotional, and yet so devoid of emotion at the same time. A deep throbbing hollowness.

“Ciel? I’m back from the store,” Sebastian’s soothing tone broke Ciel from his thoughts. He shifted in the puddle of blankets he laid in so he could face Sebastian, and offered him a small smile although his face was wet with tears. Sebastian’s expression immediately changed to one of pain and concern, as if nothing bothered him more than Ciel being uncomfortable. “My love?”

Within a moment he was kneeling at the bed side, taking Ciel’s smaller hand within his own. Ciel felt warm again, although he couldn’t recall being cold. Sebastian had that affect on him. He never knew he was missing anything, until his crimson eyed lover came along and put back together the broken, shattered pieces of his soul. The tears were a silent, steady stream from cerulean eyes.

“I just don’t feel right,” Ciel began, his voice barely above a whisper. It was broken, just like he felt. He rubbed his stomach more, clearly far away in his mind. “Nothing is right, Sebastian.”

“Are you in pain?” Sebastian asked calmly, but there was clearly alarm laced within his tone. He was always worried about Ciel and the baby. He had an innate need to protect them both, and to see Ciel crying was enough to tug at the seams of his sanity.

“No. If I were in pain, then at least I’d feel... Something.” Ciel’s voice wavered and he closed his eyes tightly, willing the tears to just stop already. He felt his hand lift, and then soft lips caressed each digit with a gentle precision that made his heart race. He looked at Sebastian, who was kissing his hand so lovingly.

“I got you something at the store. I think I know just what you need on this insufferably gloomy day,” Sebastian said with a sincere smile, a rare one... Reserved only for Ciel. All of his softness was for Ciel and the baby, and them alone. “I’ll be right back.”

A soft kiss was pressed to Ciel’s forehead, and then Sebastian was gone. Ciel stared at the ceiling and thought about the baby. A girl... He didn’t know how to raise a girl. He wasn’t certain he’d know how to raise a boy, either. He suddenly wasn’t sure he’d make a good parent. He knew he was born for this, but felt so conflicted. He already loved her. He’d die for her, and Sebastian would kill for her. But some days he can’t even get out of bed... How is he going to take care of her, when he sometimes can’t even take care of himself? He bit his lip anxiously and stared at the rain again. What were they thinking? Were they even ready for this?

Sebastian returned, carrying a “breakfast-in-bed-tray” that he made himself several months before. Ciel wiped his eyes and sat up in the bed, relaxing against the head board and trying to peak at the contents on the tray. Sebastian smiled proudly and set the tray in his lover’s lap, then took his house slippers off and climbed into bed next to him. On the tray was a very tempting slice of chocolate cake, drizzled with caramel and sprinkled with sea salt. The gorgeous slice was accompanied by a fresh cup of herbal tea. Ciel smiled, and felt like crying a different type of tears now.

“Open up, baby.” Sebastian said in a soft purr, cutting into the slice with a fork and lifting it to Ciel’s lips. Ciel melted a bit... Of course he was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but how could he say no to such a sweet gesture? He parted his lips and accepted a taste. It was pure bliss. The sweet and salty combination was everything he was craving. and didn’t realize he was craving until it hit his tongue. It was perfect. He sighed contently and parted his lips for another bite, eliciting a small chuckle from his lover, who happily fed him.

By the time the slice was finished, Ciel was laughing and Sebastian was smiling his rare Sebastian smile. He felt warm... So warm, and so loved. Without Ciel needing to speak his worries, Sebastian obliterated them. Of course they were ready. They were a team, and Sebastian would always be there to take care of them. The tray was moved away, Ciel was sipping his tea, and Sebastian laid with his ear to Ciel’s stomach.

“We still haven’t decided on a proper name.” Sebastian pointed out, rubbing Ciel’s stomach while his head still rested against it. Ciel set his teacup on the nightstand and laughed softly.

“I hardly think Lilith is an appropriate name.” Ciel chuckled and ran his dainty hand through Sebastian’s silk tresses.

“And I think Elizabeth is a rather stuffy name. No offense to your cousin, of course.” Sebastian said smugly, but chuckled as well.

“It’s elegant!” Ciel huffed, then smiled. “We still have some time. I’m sure we’ll agree on something before she arrives.”

Sebastian nodded and shifted them in the bed, laying so Ciel’s back was to his chest. Ciel faced the window once more, but the rain had stopped. The sunshine crept through the curtains and he smiled happily. Sebastian held Ciel close, his hand never leaving his lover’s stomach as he drifted off. Warmth spread through Ciel, starting in his chest. He closed his eyes and smiled, listening to Sebastian’s breathing slow as he drifted to sleep. The warm, sweet scent of his lover mixed with the lavender relaxed Ciel’s worried mind. The sun was shining, he was loved, and somehow... He knew that everything would be just fine.

( A/N: This drabble is dedicated to @griever-bit-my-finger! Thank you SO much for the request! Hopefully I was able to do this prompt some justice. It was very enjoyable to write! Sorry if it’s a bit long... I got a bit carried away!)

[lahuertaflower]

The Shard: Part One

((Authors Note: I just wanted to start by saying hi and welcome to my fan fiction. I honestly had no idea anyone would want to read it so to see any notes on it I was surprised. Like I said, this is an Endless Summer/Hero crossover and all rights of the characters are reserved to Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them.

Book: Endless Summer/Hero

Tagging: @princesstopgun as requested 😊. If any of you would like to be tagged in Part Two please let me know! Yes, this is going to seem like a slow start to this but it is because I want to make sure I have everything lined out. The beginning is also going to seem more ES focused, but you will see where it is going!))

“Happy reunion everyone! Here’s to five years.”

Voices called out and through the clear air of the beach while the chatter and faint music filled the calm night sky as the stars twinkled down, sparkling brightly without the city lights fighting to drown them out. The fire crackled, orange ambers wafting into the air and dissipating into the darkness. This tradition was always bittersweet, knowing that although everyone had such beautiful lives, filled with love, happiness and success, that one person was missing. That someone who had been incredibly important to each and every one of the collection of people who stood in the sand this evening, clinking beers as they toasted.

It stung to know the sacrifice that had been made so each of the eleven would have the life they so yearned for. Even after all this time it didn’t seem real. In the back of all their minds they hoped that one day they would all be reunited to continue their journey together; but this wasn’t to mourn the loss, it was to reminisce and be thankful for the sacrifice made. Well, at least to most of those who joined in the festivity each year…

“Dammit Kaity...don’t you know I’d come after you? I’d find a way! Cross every mile of space to get you back!”

One of the last sentences Jake McKenzie said to his wife replayed over and over again, drowning out the conversation and the waves crashing against the beachfront. It was like a broken record, each time cutting deeper and ripping his heart apart. All the former soldier had wanted was to have the joy that all the others gained. Sadly, it didn’t work out that way. There was no new love in Jake’s life, no kids or relationship prospects. Even though he was able to return home to US soil and reunite with his mother and sister, it didn’t take away that burn for her love. The silver lining metaphor wasn’t all everyone cracked it up to be.

“What about you Jake?” A soft voice rang through the train of thoughts. Coming to, he realized it had been from Quinn Kelly. The ginger haired female had her head quirked to the side, beachy curls swaying with the motion as everyone’s else’s eyes focused on him to progress the conversation.

“I…uh...sorry Ariel, what was the question?” Blinking back the sadness a few times, Jake’s bright cerulean blue eyes flashed to each of his friends faces, a forced smirk tugging on his lips to keep up the facade.

“What have you been up to? Everyone else has already talked about how things are going, so naturally it’s your turn to share!” There was a hint of reassurance in the tone of her voice, being able to see through the mask he was putting on.

“Right, right. Sorry, I -uh started to zone out listening to Bottomless go on about his fancy cooking show.” The remark got a few laughs as Jake continued on. “Life hasn’t changed much since last time we were all here. Mike and I have been working hard on restoring Arachnid to its former glory and using it to actually help people. We have teamed up with the Navy to give more specialized training with the new equipment they will be implementing to make deployment missions easier. That and the fact that Lundgren is still rotting away in his tiny prison cell makes each day that much better. That’s it though.”

“And you got a haircut! You don’t look like a shaggy,stray dog anymore!” Craig chimed in, a goofy grin lighting up his face, elbowing Zahra lightly in attempts to get her to encourage his joke. Their eyes met, a slight tinge of blush tickling up on their cheeks. While they were officially together, the two of them still had that air of hesitation to displaying feelings due to hiding it away for so long.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up while ya can. I gotta look presentable during meetings and all that crap.” On instinct, Jake ran a hand through the light brown hair tufts, down stroking his maintained hair growth on his face afterwards. “I know you’re just jealous that I can rock the long and the short hair. My good looks aren’t for everyone Drax.”

“Pft, I don’t need to be jealous. I have great genes that make me irresistible.” Craig retorts instantly, brushing off his shoulder to try and downplay that he isn’t the best at taking jabs. It isn’t long after that Craig gets smacked in the stomach by Zahra in attempts to keep his ego in check though. “Oouf Z, don’t worry, Jake can handle my comments better than he can a plane.”

Another round of laughter pushed its way through the circle as the flames illuminated each of their faces. Jake started to give a hearty laugh, but his mind began to flash back to the painful memories of first meeting Katie, on that fateful day, heading into supposed trip of a lifetime that turned their world upside down. A lump formed in his throat, causing him to choke as her face came into view each time his eyelids shut. No one seemed to notice the change in demeanor and Jake took the switch of conversation to excuse himself silently and trek further down the beach to enjoy some time alone.

Legs carrying him further than expected, he peered over his shoulder to ensure that no one else had picked up on his disappearing act and trailed along to make sure he was okay. Bounding around a curve in the beach, Jake knew that there wasn’t a chance he could be seen from the gathering, trees shading over where he had decided to plop down. Leaning back onto his calloused hands, his eyes darted up to the twinkling sky, taking in the constellations that adorned the navy sheet that stretched as far as eyes could see.

“I sure wish you could be here Kaity. I know I say that every year but it only gets harder. I feel stupid y’know? I keep thinking that one of these days you are just gonna be sitting across the way from where I am, grinning at me like nothing ever happened.” Jake started, exhaling in frustration as the tears began to build up in his eye ducts, tempting to break through.

“Why’d you have to go and be everyone's hero? I know your heart was in a good place but...dammit, I just miss you so much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cosmic swirled, overseeing all that was and all that is. The transparent body drifted across purple hazed skies while coming to a graceful halt amounge the rocky surface of its own planet. Drifting over the plains of the world, it reached its destination. Glimmering pink shards of all sizes protruded out from the dirt, shooting in every which way, almost creating a casing. Hand outstretched, it gently laid itself on one, feeling the energy flow through it.

“I can feel the change...we must brace ourselves for intrusion from another.”

A few more presences began to form near the biggest cluster on the prism planet, nodding in agreeance as they too could notice the shift in dynamic and power. There was a drawn out silence as they all took in the situation at hand. This was never supposed to happen. The powers of their planet were far too strong to fall into mortal hands. That mistake had already happened once and caused a group of young adults to will to life someone to fill the void in their lives.

“Vaanu, are you sure this isn’t just another lashing out of The Shard? The slumber should keep the powers at bay, but it has been proven over the years how this day of significance causes a disturbance.” One of the ethereal beings mentioned as they all formed a circle.

A red and black energy began to dramatically swirl around inside the being known as Vaanu, clearly not impressed by the fact that the others blamed the sudden spike of unknown and drastic energy on it.

“If you are all concerned with the safety of The Shard, shall we go and ensure it is not indeed the cause?” One of the others voices filled the surrounding area, to which the group of six nodded and began to make their way further into the overgrown forest of gleaming pink gems. Coming to a halt, Vaanu reached upwards again to one particular stone, it emanating a blinding light before softening to a dull gleam.

Encased in the magnificent gem was a young woman, eyes closed as if in a peaceful, deep sleep. Due to the contact of Vaanu though, it appeared like the gem cocoon had thinned out in order for them all to view her with little to no obstruction. The girls locks cascaded down her shoulders, an ombre effect having taken place from the time of being in containment, the ends a lighter brown than the roots that had extended over the years. Her features were soft with a quirk of a smile dangling on her lips.

“As you can see, The Shards slumber ensues. Still right where it was left when the agreeance of becoming one was made. Now, we must drop this and discover who is causing the trouble with the prisms.” Vaanu had subsided its anger, the red being replaced by sparkling blue, taking itself back while the entities observed the girl as if she was a museum exhibit.

“Vaanu, allow me to stay back and ensure the prism restructures its hold around The Shard while you gather all to search the planet for obstructions.”

With a swift nod, Vaanu took off without another word, the others following suit. This left the volunteer entity in silence, arms placed on either side of the makeshift prison. Time was not a concept that they abided by here on the prism planet, as they had pure control over it, so there was no construct to declare how long it would have. Instead of using it’s force to reseal The Shard into place, it just stood and took in the sight, a tinge of sadness seeming to form in its transparent body.

“If these forces are as strong as we presume them to be, then any ally is a good one.”