#like dropped down on all fours SOBBING PUNCHING THE FLOOR while screaming THIS COULD BE US or THAT SHOULD BE ME after seeing wedding pics

[titaniafey]

Nobody:

Gwen, when she sets foot on Earth - 8 and finds out she and Miles are endgame in that universe:

[dilfdarling]

Better

[Frank Castle x AFAB!Reader]

Summary: After a horrible encounter with your ex, you wind up at Frank's door.

Warnings: NSFT, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), PiV sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, inexperienced reader, Abuse (not Frank), toxic relationship (hinted at/not Frank)

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: My first time writing Frank, but I had this idea and fucking ran with it so I hope you all enjoy it :)

You hadn’t expected your Sunday morning to end with you standing at Frank’s door, sobbing. And you hadn’t expected your Sunday afternoon to start with Frank pulling you into his place.

“What the fuck happened to your eye?”

“He hit me-”

“Who?” Frank was fuming. As soon as he saw you flinch he relaxed and let you speak.

“He came to my house, yelling. He was drunk, he had been drinking since four this morning-” You shut your eyes tight and tears rolled down your cheeks, “He started screaming about me cheating, and ‘shacking up’ with you while he and I were still together. He started breaking shit and when I went to stop him…”

“He fucking punched you?”

Frank turned to leave, his fists balled and a low growl coming deep from his chest. You reached out to stop him, and when he turned back to you, you couldn’t help but flinch away again. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, eyes softening and his eyebrows furrowing.

“Has he hit you before?”

You shut your eyes and inhaled sharply, “Can you just-” Your eyes opened and you looked at him, giving off sad puppy vibes, “please, stay with me”

“Okay.” Frank led you towards the couch, “He doesn’t know where I live-” He asked, and you shook your head at him. He nodded and mumbled a ‘good’ under his breath. “Do you need anything?”

“I know it’s only, like, twelve in the afternoon, but, you got anything strong?”

Frank nodded. He poured a drink for you and walked back over to the couch. You grabbed the cup from his hand and chugged it. Frank watched you with wide eyes as you downed the drink in one sip. You placed the cup in your lap and scrunched your face at the sudden burning in your mouth leading to your stomach.

You gagged and your body shook briefly. But, you quickly recovered and looked over at Frank with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course…” Frank nodded, seemingly more worried than before.

You pointed to your cup and pointed over to the alcohol and before you could properly ask Frank gave you a ‘knock yourself out’ and knock yourself out you did.

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

Frank’s hands rested on your shins, your legs over his lap. Your head was at the arm of the couch and your arm hanging off the furniture, an empty glass in your hand.

“I’m cuttin’ ya off.” Frank put his foot down.

With wide eyes, you poked your head up and your jaw dropped. You let out a small gasp and were quickly brought back down to the couch. You groaned, “Okay, that’s fine actually.”

You stared at the ceiling, your lips pursing and your brows knitting together. You were becoming more and more angry. The thought of you ex busting into your home, breaking your things, and hitting you, it was becoming a lot. You placed the glass on the floor and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You alright?” Frank watched with concern.

“No!” You yelled, throwing your arms up. They hit the couch and you huffed. Frank didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. Because your drunk ass was going to talk anyway. ”That bitch had never hit me before in our whole relationship! There were red flags but… he loved me… He told me-” You let out a loud groan, “-but he never really showed me.”

Frank watched from his spot on the couch, his arms still resting on your legs. He listened carefully, and picked up on anything that seemed off. Unbeknownst to you, he was planning something. Even if you were sober you couldn’t really pin down his exact train of thought. But you would have known it would have to do with murder.

Your face grew hot and your mouth opened, shit beginning to spew. “I don’t think he even really ever gave me an actual orgasm!” The words, they wouldn't stop. “He only cared about himself and, like- What kinda asshole is so selfish!” You looked at Frank, whose expression you could not quite pin down. “Wouldn’t even eat me out!” Your arms crossed again and your head rolled back on to the arm rest. “And! Don’t get me started on that jealousy thing! He really thought I was sneaking around with you!”

The room went quiet for a moment, your thoughts floating around in empty air. Tears welled up in your eyes, “As much as I had thought about you, I could never hurt him that way…”

You closed your eyes and put your hand over your eyes, groaning. You sucked in air through clenched teeth and let out a small huff. There was nothing but silence and it was eating you up. Your head fell to the side and you tried to get comfortable on the couch. You could feel yourself falling asleep, dozing off. Frank shifted, scooting out from under you, and gently lifted you off the couch.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Takin’ you to bed.”

You nodded and relaxed in his arms. He set you on the bed and you, almost immediately, got comfortable and fell asleep.

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

You woke up to the front door opening and your heart racing. You sat up and looked around, remembering you were in Frank’s home. You became more nervous at that realization. Frank wouldn’t let just anyone come in. You stood up, as quietly as possible, and crept towards the wall beside the door. You pressed your back to the wall and held your breath.

The person was coming closer, their footsteps heavier. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever it was you thought you were doing and he entered the room.

A scream ripped from your throat when the person who had entered instantly looked at you.

“Sh,” A hand was on your mouth, “no need to yell sweetheart.”

Frank was standing there, his body pressed to yours, hand to your mouth. All you could do was stare up at him. Frank backed off and set down a bag in front of you. You furrowed your brows and Frank motioned for you to get it.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know how long you’re gonna be here,” His voice was rough and low, “I went to your house and grabbed some things you might need. You gave him a confused look, not registering everything, “I don’t know; meds, clothes, any little necessities.”

“You went to my house?” You were in tears.

“Yeah, I was sorta hopin’ your dipshit ex would show up.” You tensed, “He didn’t.” He sounded mad about it, but some part of you was almost relieved.

“I guess I'm, uh, gonna go change,” You grabbed the bag and scuttled away from Frank. He nodded and walked back to the living room. You hurried to the bathroom, undressed, and rummaged through your bag, looking for something comfortable. “What the fuck?”

As you looked through everything you realized Frank had grabbed nothing comfortable. It was things you would definitely feel cute in, but nothing that you would want to sleep in. You noticed your phone in the back and called Frank.

“The fuck you calling me for? I’m in the next room over.”

“Frank, Frank listen before you hang up.” Frank grunted on the other end of the line, “You didn’t pack any fucking thing I could sleep in! Now I’m so grateful that you thought about me possibly going out on the town, but-”

“Shut up,” He groaned. You could hear him stand up then the call ended.

You huffed and crossed your arms, standing in his bathroom in just panties. A knock came from the other side of the door and you cracked it open.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“I’m already undressed silly, I couldn’t walk out there almost butt ass naked!”

“After what you said just earlier I’m surprised you didn’t.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You cocked your hand at him and he handed you one of his larger shirts.

Everything started to come back. You rambling about your ex, saying more than you should have. Your eyes widened and you scratched the shirt form him, almost slamming the door in his face. You grimaced and your shoulders rolled uncomfortably. Then you remembered, ‘As much as I had thought about you, I could never hurt him that way…’ A scream almost ripped from you. You bit down on your finger and thought about just running.

“Are you okay?” Frank’s voice echoed from the other side.

“Fine!” Your voice cracked, “I’m fine.”

You threw his shirt on and swung the door open, a forced smile pulling at your lips. Frank stared at you, his emotions ranging from concern, confusion, and then acceptance. He mumbled an ‘okay’ and walked off.

You followed behind him, but not too closely. You were trying to muster up the courage to bring up what was said that afternoon, but you couldn’t. Then you noticed a pillow on the couch.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch!”

“Who said this was for me?”

You pursed your lips and exhaled loudly. You huff and cross your arms at him, “No- I was gonna suggest, we just share your bed…”

Frank smirked and started to stalk towards you. You froze up and watched him. You felt so small compared to him suddenly. His confidence and smug aura made you feel so much smaller. Remembering you needed to breathe, you sucked in air.

“You sure you’re okay with that?”

You blinked up at him, “You walked towards me like that, just to ask if it was okay?” You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Frank. It’s okay. I trust you. And, you said it yourself, you aren’t sure how long I’m gonna be here. I don't want either of us on your couch for too long.”

Frank seemed to agree. He walked past you and towards his room. He left you standing there. You turned to him and cocked your head. Frank stopped walking and turned back towards you. “You comin’?”

With a nod, you grabbed the pillow on the couch and scurried away to Frank’s room. You threw the pillow down and lied on the bed. Scooting over, you made room for Frank. He began to undress and you tensed.

“What are you doing?” You covered your eyes.

Frank snorted, “I am not about to sleep in these clothes. You’re not wearin’ pants, neither am I.”

You turned away from Frank and huffed. The bed shifted and noticed he had lied down. He turned over, his back touching yours and you sighed, a little happily. You could feel Frank relax beside you and his breathing slowed as he began to unwind.

“Frank?” Your voice was soft, curious. Frank answered with a ‘hm’, his eyes still closed. “Uh, what do you remember from this afternoon?”

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”

It was most definitely a demand and not a question. Your stomach flipped at his gruff voice. You closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep. Really, you did. But Frank plagued your mind, more so now than ever. His calloused hands carefully grabbing you and carrying you to his room. The way he easily pushed you against the wall, his hand against your mouth. How he had called you sweetheart. The way he had said it.

You were used to him calling you sweetheart. But his tone was always playful, friendly. But when he had you pinned, his voice was gruff, low, and breathy. It was even more sexy than before.

Your eyes shut tight and your breath caught in your throat. You exhaled and spoke quickly, “I don’t wanna wait 'til tomorrow…”

Frank turned, the mattress shifting and pulling you into him. He was facing you now, resting on his elbow and he watched you. You lied there, eyes suddenly closed and body curled into fetal position.

“I thought you wanted to talk?”

“We can talk without facing each other.”

Frank nodded, “Alright. Would you like to know what I thought about what you said?” He paused long enough for you to nod, “I thought, your ex really didn’t show you love, in any way. He didn’t love you, not in the way you deserve.” You lied there listening, fists balling around the fabric of his shirt. “And I think- No, I know, I’ve thought about you too-”

Your jaw clenched and you turned over onto your back. Staring dead at Frank, hands on your chest, you waited for him to keep talking. He was leaning over you, smirking, and you were under him, swallowing hard and eyes curious..

“Go on…” You whispered while your face only heated up more.

“I know for a fact I could please you, and way better than you could even think about your ex doing.” His words shot electricity through you. You could only nod up at him. “You agree?”

“Well, I mean-” You sat up and scooted towards the edge of the bed, Frank’s eyes on you the whole time, “-I just, I don’t know from experience, obviously” You let out an awkward laugh, “but, you’re, um, really attentive and passionate when you do things-”

“So that extends to sex?” You nodded and felt like you couldn't fucking breathe. Frank snorted and lied back down on his side, facing the opposite direction. “Let me know if you wanna figure out.”

You curled back up on your side, and didn’t say anything for a while. You lied there and took everything in. Frank was breathing heavier, obviously sleeping or almost there. You scooted into the middle of the bed, your back against his and everything seemed to relax. You blinked, looking at the wall, and finally found the courage to speak up.

“Frank?” Your voice, barely audible, cracked, but Frank still heard you. He mumbled a ‘hm?’ and you took a shaky breath in. “I wanna figure out…”

Frank’s breathing stopped momentarily, and the bed was shifting again. He was facing you, chest to your back, hand ghosting over your bare hip. Breath catching, you gasped quietly. Your eyes cut over to the side but you still couldn’t see him.

“You sure about that sweetheart?” Frank was close, his breath hit your ear.

“Yes.”

Frank pressed his lips to the back of your neck and you felt him smirk. Chills ran up your spine and you shivered. With eyes shut tight, you waited for his next move.

“Ya gonna look at me?” Frank’s rough hand finally settled on your hip, his touch more gentle than you had imagined.

“Can I tell you something…?” You turned over to Frank, his hand moving to the top of your thigh. Frank nodded. “Um, my ex… Um-” you sighed and shut your eyes, “This is so embarrassing… he was my first serious boyfriend. The first person I had sex with.” Your eyes opened a little and Frank’s intense stare greeted you. “But he never made me orgasm… I faked them. All of them. Um- he would, like, finger me but it- I never orgasmed from that… I would have to work on myself after the fact when he fell asleep. Immediately after we had sex.”

Frank took everything in and asked one single question, “So, you’ve never enjoyed it?”

“I just thought- I don’t know. He didn’t care and since he was my first I just thought- I thought it was normal.” You shrugged. “When my friends would talk about their sex life with me, I realized it wasn’t… That’s when I wouldn’t think about him anymore when I would masturbate.”

You didn’t have to say who you thought about. Frank knew it was him. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” His voice was softer than before, but just as gruff. “But, if you want, whenever you want, I can show you what a good time really looks like.”

“Well-” Since you were getting so personal, why not take it to another level, “I’m not going to lie, you’re hand on my thigh is really hot and I have so much pent up sexual frustration-”

Frank’s lips pressed to yours and you gasped. His hand moved from your hip to your cheek, cupping it. You grabbed his face and pulled him closer, your palms resting on his jawline. He was completely over you, holding himself up with one hand and the other pulling you closer to him. Your back arched and your hips rolling into him.

His hand grabbed your hip and pushed it back down. You furrowed your brows momentarily, but did not question it. His hand moved back to your cheek and your arms wrapped around his neck. Your legs spread a little wider, letting Frank settle between them, and your knees moved inwards, around him.

Frank began kissing down your jawline and you bucked into him again. Frank pushed your hips down, and held them there against the mattress. You could hear him growl against your skin and your panties started to become soaked.

“So needy,” Frank grumbled, his teeth hitting the sensitive skin of your neck. “I’m gonna make sure you know how good you can feel- how good I can make you feel.”

Eyes trained on the ceiling, you could only nod and moan. Frank’s hand moved from your hip and up to your shirt, moving it up towards your chest. His hands were cool against your warm skin, causing you to gasp and arch further. Frank smiled against your skin. Your nails were already scraping up his back, albeit gently.

“Frank,” you moaned, eyes shut, “please, I need you.”

“Need me to what?” He asked, more cocky than you had ever heard him.

“I want to feel you, I want you to fuck me!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Frank’s hand moved towards your panties, “I will. I need to make sure you’re ready first- Gonna make you feel so good.”

Frank pulled at the elastic of your underwear, easily pulling them down. His fingers traced around your inner thighs before he finally found your pussy. Your breathing picked up and you shut your eyes. Frank clicked his tongue, causing you to look at him again, once you noticed he wasn’t going anywhere anymore.

“No, ya gotta look at me, I gotta know I’m makin’ ya feel good.”

You bit the inside of your lip and nodded. Frank decided he was going to move again, and one of his fingers pushed inside of you. Frank angled your hips up slightly and you felt him going deeper. His movements were slow at first, definitely calculated, helping you come undone easily.

“I’m gonna take care of you, okay?” Frank kissed you on the forehead. The softness, the tenderness, of it causing you to grow even more wet. His thumb found your clit and swirled slowly around it, and he pressed his forehead to yours. You thought you were going to explode. Your stomach was turning, you were growing hotter. And Frank was starting to pick up the pace.

Another finger pushed in and you were a babbling mess. You were pleading, moaning, begging for him to keep going. Frank, of course, obliged. His movements became a little more sloppy as he started to go faster.

“Your fingers just can’t do this good, can they?” He pushed deeper, and your eyes rolled back. Euphoria was right around the corner. “I’ll let you cum, since this is all so new to you.”

Frank seemed to immediately hit a spot you had no clue how to reach and you tensed around his fingers. “Fuck!” You hissed, finally reaching a breaking point, “Don’t fucking stop.” You moaned, rolling your hips. You began to see stars and Frank started to slow down.

“Don’t wanna overwhelm you.”

You heaved as he pulled his fingers from inside of you. You leaned back on the pillows and shut your eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape and you felt something start to push past your lips. Frank's fingers made it into your mouth and settled on your tongue.

“Suck,” His voice was low, soft even, but definitely still an order.

Doing as you were told, you began to softly suck on his warm, wet fingers. You could feel more warmth pooling between your legs. You whined and rubbed your thighs together. Looking up at Frank with half-lidded eyes, you watched him closely.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed, “So pretty, so pretty doin’ what you’re told.”

You gave him a smile and he pulled his fingers from your mouth. Frank’s hand trailed up the shirt again, and he smiled as he felt your muscles twitch under him. He pressed his lips to your neck and he started talking, face buried in your skin.

“You said your ex never ‘ate you out’, right?” Frank questioned, making you heat up even more.

“Um, no one has ever done that…” Frank smiled against you and you immediately knew he was up to something. Your thighs rubbed together a little more harshly and your eyes shut. “What’re you planning?”

Frank nibbled at your flesh and pushed himself to be completely over you. He easily held himself up with one hand while his other trailed up your side, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “If you’re okay with it, I can show ya a real good time.”

“Okay…” You nodded, “Yeah, I just- Uh, I might be a bit awkward… What do I do with my hands-” You were beginning to fall into an existential crisis. Frank shushed you, and your eyes moved back to his and you blinked up at him. “Okay,” you nodded up at him, “I trust you.”

He smiled at that, and moved off the bed. He grabbed you and easily pulled you over to the edge of the mattress. He was on his knees in front of you, his hands on the outside of your thighs. Frank was quick to throw your legs over his shoulders and you grasped at the sudden movement.

Frank said nothing, he only dived in and you tensed. Your back was placed flat against the mattress and your fists balled the sheets under you. Your eyes shut and you let out a low moan. Frank smiled against your cunt and kept lapping you up. He held your hips down, his large hands easily keeping you from wiggling too much. You whined and felt the need to move.

“Frank~” Your voice sounded heavenly, his name rolling off your tongue. “Fuck!”

Frank licked a stripe up your pussy and easily found your clit, swirling around it. Your back arched and you started to sit up. You were mumbling and babbling pleas for him to continue, to go faster. As you sat up, you moved further from Frank, but he was quick to follow you. His hands staying on your hips.

Your hands moved to Frank’s hair, and your nails ran over his scalp. He grunted and pushed his tongue further inside of you. You were a moaning mess under him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and kept pulling you closer. His face was buried deep in your cunt and you could feel tears pricking your eyes from the amount of pure bliss you were feeling.

“Taste so good,” He mumbled against you, “all for me.”

“Frank! Please! I’m gonna-” Your head fell back and your eyes shut tight.

Frank kept licking you up, his movements quickening before finally slowing. Your toes curled and every single part of you tensed. You were crying out his name, before falling from your high. As you came down you were whining for him still. His tongue lapped you up before he pulled away from you.

Frank brought himself up to your level and you looked at him through your lashes. Your breathing was hard and fast, and Frank pressed his forehead to yours.

“Fuck, that’s even better than I could ever imagine,” you heaved.

You pulled Frank into a kiss and cupped his face. Frank smirked and kissed back, easily pushing you back onto the bed. He only deepened the kiss and shoved his tongue into your mouth. Everything he did, even if it was fast and what you could only think of as sloppy, it was obviously thought out. Frank knew what he was doing, and he knew it well.

His fingers settled in your pussy again, before slowly pulling away. “So wet, and all ‘cause o’ me.” Frank said in between kisses. He pulled away and looked down at you. His eyes moved to his shirt and back up to your own eyes.

“Fuck,” He growled out, “Ya look so good in my clothes.”

“Frank,” Your breathing was finally normal, “Please, just fuck me. Please…”

Frank was picking up quickly. He easily tossed you towards the top of the bed and you gasped. He kicked off his boxers with ease, his erection catching your attention. Swallowing hard, you leaned back onto the pillows, your elbows holding you up.

You inhaled a shaky breath and watched and rubbed himself before crawling into bed and settling between your legs. He spread your thighs slightly and you could feel him positioning himself at your entrance.

“We ain’t gotta do this-”

“Oh, no, we aren’t stopping now, Frank.” You kiss him briefly, “I just, I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“You didn’?” Frank questioned, still waiting to buck into you, “I thought about you so often, I been waitin’ for this.”

“Oh?” You cock a brow at him, “Well, wait no more.” You kiss him again.

Frank begins to push into you and you whine under him. Your hands snake around his neck and rest on his back. Your nails were starting to press into his skin. Frank settled inside of you and was still for a moment. He buried his face into your neck and groaned.

“Fuck, darlin’, you feel amazing,” He sighed.

You began to quietly beg, “Move, please move.”

Frank nodded and his hips rolled into yours. His pace started out slow, steady. Your hips began to move with his, skin hitting skin. Frank started to pick up speed, his hips starting to buck every so often. With every buck, you jolted, yelling his name and nails digging into his back.

“So tight, takin’ me so good sweetheart,” Frank groaned into you, “fill ya up so good.”

You were reduced to a moaning, pleading mess underneath him, and Frank was enjoying every second of it. He was doing that, not some horrible man that didn’t deserve you. It was him.

“Gonna never want someone else-” He spoke between each thrust of his hips, “Never gonna wanna leave-” He grunted as he kept going.

You could only agree, yelling a yes in between calling out his name. “Frank~ I’m gonna- Fuck, please, I’m gonna cum!”

Frank’s thrusts became far more harsh, as he chased his own high. “Where? Where should I-”

“Inside!” You panted, “I’m on birth control-”

Your orgasm hit, strong and hard. Your pussy spasmed around Frank’s cock and he groaned. The sheets balled into Frank’s fist and you could feel him coming undone inside of you. His thrusts only quickened. You cried out for him, and he was sent over the edge, cumming inside of you, filling you up.

He kept thrusting, the both of you coming down from your highs. As his movements slowed, your grip on him loosened. Your hands slid from his scratched back to his shoulders and Frank pressed his forehead to yours.

“Damn, sweetheart,” his voice was low and more gravely than usual. He pulled out from you and rolled over onto his back. Both of you laying there, catching your breaths.

“We should do this more often,” You blurted out, without thinking, You quickly back pedaled, eyes wide with fear of rejection, “I mean- We don’t have to-”

Frank shushed you and you shut your mouth, “I’m not done with you. No where close.”

You sighed. That was great for you. You remembered, abruptly, the reason you had gone there in the first place. Momentarily, fear struck. “Uh, Frank, how long can I stay here?”

“We can talk about it tomorrow.”

You nudged him, and he grabbed your hand, “No, we can not! Frank-”

He kissed you, and you couldn’t help but kiss back. He pulled away, “Fine, how ‘bout we talk about it in the shower?”

[the-last-kenobi]

Oh for the bad things happen bingo, could you do 'passing out from the pain' with hurt Obi-Wan and the 212th being like 'this is unacceptable let us help you for the sake of our sanity Please'. Good luck with moving!

Thanks willow! 🤍 I hope this fulfills expectations!

General Kenobi had several policies that his men disagreed with. Strongly, fiercely disagreed with.

Unfortunately, all these policies were personal and were applied only to himself, meaning that the 212th had little means of having them changed.

Hoop, the Chief Medic, particularly hated his General’s insistence on handling all negotiations or Council briefings after a battle before he went to the medbay.

“If it’s bad enough that you need to see me straight away, you’ll be carrying me on a stretcher anyway,” the Jedi had said. Hoop sincerely hoped this was a jest. But so far, Kenobi seemed to return from every battle in either one way or the other — beaten and battered from leading the front line but capable of walking and talking, or on the brink of death on a stretcher.

How the man had managed to walk away from Kadavo with the injuries he had — Hoop wanted to punch a wall every time he thought of it.

The man should have been unconscious. He should have had lasting, permanent damage. He should have been on drugs for two weeks.

Instead he strolled alone into the medbay a full rotation after the rescue, still wearing his ruined tunics, every visible inch of him bruised or swelling or bleeding, his rib cage just a little too prominent through his undershirt. “I’m fine, Hoop,” he said, sounding vaguely amused. “I’ve held myself together this long, haven’t I?”

And he had.

But nothing lasts forever.

Not even the infamously stubborn Master of an infamously stubborn Padawan and Grandpadawan, the former protege of another infamously stubborn maverick.

Cody was aggressively trailing after his General like an overprotective guard dog, his lips curled in a snarl beneath his helmet. “Sir,” he said for the dozenth time.

“Never mind, Cody,” Obi-Wan said dismissively, waving an airy hand as he glanced over his shoulder at his Commander. “It will keep.”

“Sir,” Cody said more insistently.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, smiling.

They both knew there was no overriding the General, not when he was capable of thought and speech. Still, the Marshal Commander had to try. “Sir, it’s been two days.”

“And I’ve yet to collapse,” Kenobi pointed out blithely, now opening the doors to the bridge of the Negotiator. “If I had been injured on Tameris, then I’m sure we’d all know it by now.”

“Sure,” muttered Cody.

Obi-Wan turned his head again to face forwards, but as soon as he crossed the threshold into the bridge he was accosted by his Chief Medic.

“Sir, you didn’t report for detox,” Hoop said firmly.

General Kenobi sighed. “It appears I’ve come across a plot against me. I never would have expected my own troops to turn on me.” With a gentle tap on the shoulder he bypassed Hoop, who joined Cody in trailing the Jedi closely.

“General, everyone has to undergo the detox,” Hoop said angrily. “Not just the men. The officers too. Every species that was down on Tameris during the explosion—”

“I understand that,” General Kenobi said. He kept walking away, striding towards a group of officers gathered next to a holo projector, studying a slowly rotating map and arguing in low tones.

“I don’t think you do,” snapped Cody. He bit his tongue immediately, cursing his loss of temper. His General didn’t seem disturbed, however.

“I do,” General Kenobi said, and he stopped walking and turned to face them, causing both clones to stumble abruptly to a halt. “I do,” he repeated earnestly. “But so many of the men were caught in that radius, so many of the officers on the ground. I’m having a hard enough time trying to hold things together as it is; what happens if I step aside to be checked over and treated for days at a time while the Separatists close in?”

“I could do it,” Cody swore. “I’ve already been detoxed. I can take care of everything.”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head. His expression was unbearably fond as he stared at them both. “The structure is in shambles. The only reason we’re not on standby in need of assistance is because my rank and knowledge shared between the Senate and the Council permits me to make executive decisions. If I surrender my position to be treated…” he shook his head. “We can’t afford the chaos that would cause to our already fractured chain of command.”

He smiled and walked away as if the discussion had never taken place.

Around them, the bridge continued busy, the people present frantic and scrambling just as the General had said. Understaffed, uncoordinated, held together by determination. By the General.

Hoop swore colorfully and stormed from the bridge. Cody turned back to watch his General, a cold determination of his own creeping over him. He snagged a passing lieutenant and leveled him with a stern glare. “I’m setting up a rotation to have the General monitored at all times. He’s under extreme stress and he’s in danger of succumbing to possible illness. Understand?”

The lieutenant nodded. He did understand. With a discreet salute he stepped away, off to spread the word as quietly as he could.

-

Of course, Obi-Wan noticed that his men were suddenly watching him so intently.

No matter where he went, or how quickly, or how late he stayed up, there was always at least one brother standing nearby, close enough to catch him if he fell.

It was irritating and endearing. “Cody,” he began, his voice heavy with regret and reprimand.

“Sorry, sir, I’ve suddenly gone deaf,” the Commander said with a straight face.

Obi-Wan stated. “Excuse me?”

Cody didn’t even blink.

“What if I wanted to talk about the Chommel Sector instead?” Obi-Wan tried. Cody nodded and stepped forward, leaning over the desk the General was standing over to peer at the information spread out before them.

“And if I wanted to talk about the men followi—” Cody stepped away again, dropping his bucket back over his head.

“Sorry, sir. Deaf.” Cody said loudly.

Obi-Wan sighed long-sufferingly, although the corners of his mouth did twitch upwards, part of him touched by his men’s protective nature, touched enough to perhaps forgive the insubordination.

-

They were a week out from the disaster on Tameris when the General’s luck — or will of iron — finally failed him.

He was halfway through a holo transmission with the available Council, meaning that Mace Windu, Yoda, Shaak Ti, and Plo Koon were all watching when Obi-Wan dropped like a discarded droid part.

It happened so quickly that not even Cody, hovering a respectful three feet behind, was able to reach him in time. One second General Kenobi was staring up at Windu, nodding solemnly as the other man derailed their plans for the Chommel Sector, and the next second he was on the ground, his head striking the console and then the floor.

“No!” Cody screamed. He forgot about the Council, about the others in the room, and dove forwards, quickly removing his gloves so that he could search gently for injuries. And a pulse.

“Commander Cody!” Windu shouted, his voice full of concern.

“He’s breathing,” Cody said shakily, and he turned the General over ever so gently, nervous of aggravating the damage. “But his head… he…”

There was blood everywhere. Head wounds bled profusely, but there was already bruising forming around the places where the red-haired Jedi’s forehead and cheek had collided so sharply with the console and then the floor. His breathing was shallow, and his cheeks overly flushed on his pale face.

“He’s weak,” Shaak Ti said softly. Her image wavered. “He’s been weak for awhile. I can feel it, now.”

“We all can,” said Plo Koon. “Commander Cody.”

“Hoop!” Cody screamed over his shoulder. He pulled the General into his arms, cradling the broken head, the tired shoulders. “Someone get a medic in here!”

“Commander Cody,” Mace Windu said.

“Help is on the way,” Cody said, and he tilted his head far back to look into the holo-blue eyes of the Jedi. “Should I bring him back to the Temple? We can be there in four days.”

“Commander Cody,” Yoda said. Cody turned his eyes to the diminutive, ancient Master, pleading.

Yoda looked back at him, leaning heavily on his wooden staff. “Let him go, you must,” he said softly. “Too far gone, is he.”

“No,” Cody said. The word was defiant, but his tone wavered, wobbly and confused, like a frightened child woken suddenly in the night. Nothing made sense. He wanted to go back. “No, he’s just ill—”

“Sickness, there is,” Yoda murmured. “And strain. He will not survive the fever. Possibilities there are — hope, always hope. But very little. Overextended himself, has Obi-Wan.”

“No,” Cody said again, but this time there was not even the ghost of defiance in his voice. Just despair. “No.”

He curled around the General and held him tightly, even as Obi-Wan’s breath began to fade.

“He said— he said he had to—I shouldn’t have listened to him!” Cody screamed out between hitched sobs.

“You did what he asked,” Windu’s voice drifted to him through the ringing in his ears. “You trusted his judgement in a time of crisis. There was nothing else anyone would have asked of you. Come back to the Temple. Bring him home, no matter what happens.”

“I would have asked more!” Cody shouted, and he lifted his head from Obi-Wan to stare up at the other Jedi, his face twisted with rage and with tears. “I should have! I should have — I failed him. I failed my Jedi,” he said in disbelief, and Obi-Wan’s limp form trembled in his arms as his shoulders began to shake with wracking sobs. “I failed my Jedi.”

The Council was speaking, the other men were speaking, but Cody wasn’t listening.

He dropped his forehead to rest against Obi-Wan’s and waited.

Hoop burst through the door, furious and panicked.

The ship began to turn as they plotted their route back to Coruscant.

Obi-Wan’s breathing faltered.

fin.

[artnigth]

Migraines Part 3 (Final)

Took longer that I expected to finish this but I made it! This is the final part of this four day project of mine! Enjoy!! 

MIGRAINES PART 3:

It was a lovely spring day, the flower were blooming, bees buzzing, and the fair had just moved into a lovely small-ish town in the middle of Oregon. The fair brought hundreds of shows and games with it, among those hundreds of shows were The Aquatos, a family of acrobats with a taste for danger. Their booth was up and running, the show was about to start. A thirteen-year-old Dion was waiting in the backstage area of the Aquatodome. His legs shaking, his stomach turning and the world was starting to spin. He wasn’t nervous though, he had performed for way bigger audiences in other cities. It was the whispers, voices echoing on his mind, scaring him of the gibberish they were saying. This happened every once in a while but never this strong or whenever his family was about to perform. This made him panic. Frazie and Raz, who were nine and seven years old, were stretching with Donatella. Agustus was checking the nets and safety measures to make sure nothing went wrong. While Nonna was looking after the two youngest kids in the family, Mirtala who was almost three, and Queepie who was just six months old. “Okay Aquatos! Everyone go to your positions were starting this show!”- Donatella sounded determined and excited, like always. Dread filled his system as he walked into the stage alongside two of his siblings, the whispers becoming louder with each step, so much his ears started to ring. Donatella’s voice becoming muted, the world spinning and his skin becoming pale. Nevertheless, the show started.

The show was going well enough, the Aquatos pirouetted and performed like they had all done ever since Dion had memory. Then the final trick of the show rolled around “The Aquato Tower” the voices claimed all of Dion’s attention, he tried his best but the sounds around him became muted, he was standing on his father's shoulders who was standing on his mother's feet who was upsidedown. Dion was balancing Raz on his head, and Raz was supporting Frazie with his arms as she stood upsidedown. Sweat dripped down Dion’s forehead, his head ached enough with the voices, but with his two younger siblings on top of him, the pain became almost unbearable. Now came the final part of the trick that would close the show. Frazie jumped and landed all the way to the right, Raz flipped on his head and proceeded to jump off, landing right next to Frazie. Dion’s turn, his stomach was up on his throat, his mind was breaking and his world was becoming a hurricane of colors and shapes. But he still pulled through, Dion climbed into his father’s head and he jumped. Spinning on the air Dion lost focus for a couple of seconds the feeling of gravity pulling him to the ground snapping him back to reality, Dion landed on his feet right next to Raz. But the world didn’t stop spinning, the voices didn’t stop and his throat threatened to spill all his lunch on the stage. “THANK YOU FOR COMING!!”- his mother’s voice broke his daze, and along with his family, he bowed down and walked back into the backstage. Dion fell on his knees, his breathing unbalanced and too fast for someone his age. His father carried him all the way to the family's caravan and placed the boy on his wore down bed and helped him breathe as Dion passed out. 

Hours passed and in the middle of the night Dion woke up. He saw four of his five siblings sleeping peacefully around him. His youngest sibling was obviously in his cradle that was placed in the living room of the caravan. Dion snuck out of the room to go to the bathroom, stopping in front of his parent's room. The muffled voices of his parents leaking through the door. Dion got closer curious about what they could be arguing about at this hour. 

 “Don’t be ridiculous, he can’t be!” said his father with indignation on his tone.

 “It could be! Augustus, my love. Neither of us knows how the curse could evolve with time. Your mother isn’t explaining anything and Dion was completely fine this morning. He described voices in his head, he could be suffering from a worst version of your family’s curse.” His mother was scared, even though she wasn’t an Aquato by blood the curse could still work on her, though no one except Nonna knew for sure. “Think about it, it’s exactly the type of trick those dammed fortune tellers would pull. Cursing a bloodline to die in water and then turning all generations that follow into people like them. Making the presence of the curse unforgettable, and cursing said children with nightmarish torments, like what’s happening to-

Dion ran down the stair, he wouldn’t let the end of that sentence haunt the rest of his life. He grabbed a bag and began to pack food, water, and some medicine. He finally knew what he was, part of a curse to his family. Well, he wasn’t about to help that fucking curse kill his whole family. Even if it meant never seeing Nonna, his parents, or his siblings ever again, he wouldn’t allow it. Tears were building up in his eyes, he brushed them away with his sleeve. He couldn’t afford to make any noise or to break down at that moment. 

In a hurry Dion let a bottle of water fall on the floor of the living room. He froze, waiting for someone to catch him, for someone to show up and do something to stop him. 

Nothing…

With a sigh, Dion picked up the bottle from the ground and continued his way to the door. “Waaah?” a high-pitched voice sounded behind Dion, Queepie was awake. His small hands rising to try and grab Dion not realizing how far away he really was. Dion turned to look at his youngest brother. His innocent eyes reflecting Dion’s miserable expression. Turning away was hard but Dion barely managed. Queepie saw his oldest brother turning away and started to cry. Queepie was a baby, he was awake and Dion was the only person around. So at the sight of him leaving the baby started to cry. With a hand on the door Dion dropped his bag and pushes it under the small sofa they had. He made his way to the cradle and picked up his brother, trying to calm him down. Eventually, Dion started to softly cry alongside his brother hugging him tight and letting the night pass. Quietly promising to do whatever he could to fix himself, to keep his family together no matter what. 

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

Four years had passed since that secret incident, it was a summer morning. Dion and the rest of his siblings were woken up by Mirtala’s sobbing. The little six-year-old held a piece of paper to dear life, and Frazie noticed Razputin was nowhere in sight. “Tala what´s wrong?” Dion stood up to check on Mirtala, half asleep but still very much concerned. Mirtala showed him the note, still bawling her eyes out. He took the note and started to read. Every word from that letter felt like a punch in the gut mixed with a stab in the heart. When he finished he felt numb. In such shock that the concept of his little brother running away to who knows where hadn’t been fully processed. 

“What does it say?!” Frazie said while shaking him out of his daze. Rage was the only feeling he could suddenly feel, he handed Frazie the letter and made his way outside before he took it out on his other siblings. Going down the stair he listened as Frazie screamed from their room out of, rage? sadness? He didn’t know and he couldn’t help anyway so why should he care? When Dion was finally in the living room he proceeded to ignore his parent’s questions and just ran outside. 

 Dion grabbed a stone and threw it into oblivion, doing the same thing with every other rock he found in the valley they had temporarily settled to rest. 

 Tears ran down his face the more rocks he threw, sadness and grief mixed with his rage, the voices coming back as a result. It had been months since he had heard those whispers, he thought he had finally fixed himself. But now they were back and he felt hopeless. He fell to his knees and just sobbed. He failed on the one thing he wanted to make sure he didn’t. One piece of his family was gone and they didn’t even get to know why. Razputin never mentioned where he was going, just that he was done and couldn’t take it anymore. His mother slowly walked out of their caravan and went to check on him. Her eyes red made it obvious she had been crying as well. She knelt next to him and hugged him as he continued to cry in her arms.

 .

 .

 .

 .

Now he was walking with Gisu in the Forgetful Forest at night, her scarf was placed on his shoulders and they were still holding hands. Gisu’s hair was a pulled-back mess, the only thing keeping it from tangling was her now loose ponytail. His hair wasn’t much better, his ponytail was holding it together but his bangs were a curly mess hanging in front of his face. His eyes were red, he had finally stopped crying, but the tear marks were still fresh on his face. Gisu’s skateboard was following them not far behind, cracks showing in its surface. The whispers were still there, they weren’t leaving this time and Dion knew that. They walked all the way in silence and Dion already suspected that Gisu would probably not want to see him ever again after this mess. The idea almost brought him to tears once again. They were reaching the limit of the forest to the campgrounds where his family was located. Dread built up in him as he saw the people who were there. His mother sitting on the floor being comforted by his father, Frazie was comforting Queepie and Mirtala was checking on Nonna as she sat on a bench looking concerned. Guilt crept into his mind since he just killed his grandmother’s boyfriend. And that was a really weird thought.

 At the sight of his family, Dion stopped walking, stoping Gisu with him. “What’s wrong?” she said in a soft tone. “I can’t… Not after what I did.” He sounded altered, the events of that afternoon coming back to his mind in a painful flash. “C’mon I’m sure your family will be glad that you’re okay. And if something happens I’ll cover your back!” The same soft smirk that she met him with in the clear was placed on her face. That cursed smirk always managed to comfort Dion, he had no idea how. “okay…” They moved forward towards the light from outside the forest. And for the first time in four years, Dion wishes he had actually left on that spring night.

Never has Dion been tackled into a hug by Frazie. His sisters arms crushing his ribcage. “YOU IDIOT, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!! QUEEPIE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD” Her tone made it obvious that it wasn’t just Queepie who thought that. “I’m sorry Frazie” he hugged her back softly, too tired to come up with a snarky response. Dion looked past Frazie and met Queepies tearful stare. “I’m sorry Queepie.” His youngest brother tackling them both in another hug. “DION AQUATO!!” Augustus’ voice rumbled through the campgrounds, his tome mixed enough that his emotions were impossible to tell. Both of the Aquato parents run and tackle three of their children, by this moment Mirtala quietly joins the hug. 

 “DION!!!” Raz came out of nowhere and kicks his brother in the knee, hard enough to make his presence clear but soft enough to not actually hurt him. Joining his family in the group hug even if for only a second. 

 Nonna stayed close but didn’t join the hug. Ford was nowhere to be seen. Gisu stood at the boundary of the forest glad that this situation didn’t backfire. “Son, why didn’t you tell us?”Augustus’ voice had calmed down and was very concerned. “I… what do you mean?” Dion was confused but he got what his father meant. “Ford ended up landing here and told us everything” Donatella was clearly tired since they had been looking Dion for hours. “… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Dion started to cry again, Gisu wondered if he needed a glass of water since he had been crying so much in the last couple of hours. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t… Nonna I’m so sorry…”

 This took everyone by surprise, why Nonna specifically. He scared all of them half to death after all. “Dion explain yourself.” Frazie was paniking a little. Because, well, Dion disappeared for an entire afternoon. Then Ford finds him and gets thrown all the way to the campgrounds. And finally, Gisu, who looks like she just survived a tornado, finds him broken and desperate. “I… I… I killed Ford cruller…”

Silence 

“What?” everyone said in unison. What did he just say? Killed Ford cruller… “Oh, Dion… You didn’t kill Ford cruller. As I said Ford landed here and told us everything. I don’t think he could have told us you were lost if he was dead.” 

 “What?” Dion was dumbfounded. He should have asked Gisu… He should have definitely asked Gisu. All this time… Literal hours of unending misery, and he didn’t even kill the guy. “Are you sure? A hundred percent sure?” 

 “Unless I’m a ghost their pretty sure, boy.” Ford cruller appeared from the forest and stood next to Gisu. “By the way Razputin, I might be back at my prime as a psychic but I’m still sixty-two years old. I can’t suddenly start sprinting out of nowhere.”

 “I didn’t kill anybody… Good god, I’m the worst.” The Aquatos finally separated the massive group hug and let Dion make his way to Ford. “Agent cruller I’m so sorry for… throwing you all the way here from the forest. And for screaming at you.” Dion meant this, he felt guilty not just for what he did to Ford but for what he did to everyone. “It’s okay boy, I understand. Things are obviously still tense and it’s fine, you’re a teenager I know how hard it can be. Especially as a psychic. Which speaking of...” Ford reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cloth bag. Opening the bag, there were five small purple rocks. Psitanium. Cruller took one out of the bag and placed it on Dion’s hand. “Now focus your mind on this little piece of psitanium. Think of nothing but this little piece.”

 Dion did as he was told, focusing all of his attention on that little piece. The constant whispers fading into the back of his mind, and for the first time in the whole day, Dion felt relief. But now, he needed to face the music. He was truly a psychic and this was his life now. “Did the voices stop?” Asked Ford. “Yes… They’re gone…” 

“Well, here you go.” Ford handed Dion that little bag. “If you or any of your siblings have an issue with their abilities. You can use one of those bad boys to help and dull them down a little.” Dion was speechless, he felt no words would be able to convey how many mixed feelings he had at that moment. “thank you…”

“Mom, can we have dinner now?” Queepie broke the silence. Leave it to a toddler to break the awkward silence. “Yes Queepie, we can have dinner now…”

 Everyone sighed and began to move towards the caravan, with Ford, Dion, and Gisu staying behind. “Gisu, Ford would you like to stay for dinner?” Augustus’ voice was kind of tense but it was mostly kind. “Actually dad… I think Gisu needs to leave. We’ve been taking too much of her time.” Dion’s voice was soft, not rude at all. Gisu knew that. “Yeah… Thank you for the offer but I need to get back home before Sam locks me out.” Gisu understood and started to walk out of the campgrounds. Dion following behind. “I’ll go with her to the bus stop, I’ll be back soon. I promise.” 

 .

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 The campgrounds were left behind them as they walked back to the Motherlobe. They once again walk in silence, an awkward silence this time. Gisu’s scarf was still over Dion’s shoulders. A couple of steps more and she’ll be gone, on a bus to the nearest town over for the night. Dion had so much to say and so little time. 

 “I’m sorry” 

 “For what?”

 “For today, for everything.”

 “Everything?”

 Dion fell silent. This is what he needed to do. After all she did for him, apologizing was the least he could do. “Calling you in the morning to hang out just to dip last minute, almost throwing you into oblivion in the forest, annoying you about my stupid psychic theories… and everything else…” Dion was calm, trying to mentally prepare himself for Gisu’s response. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize” “Yes I do! I wasted your time with my stupid crisis. You don’t deserve to be bothered with my issues…” Dion was determined to make his point clear. This was one part of his life he never wanted to regret. “… If I’m here is because I want to be, no one forced me to stay and wait for you. No one forced me to look for you, I wanted to because I care about you, Dion.” Her tone was warm and sad. Gisu’s mind was more at peace about what happened than Dion’s, she knew what her objective was in this whole situation. She just wanted Dion to be okay and she trusted his family to make sure he gets the treatment he needs. 

 They were now on the Motherlobe’s bus stop. The bus would arrive shortly. Dion took Gisu’s scarf and placed it on her shoulders in silence. He grabbed her hair and fixed it into her typical ponytail. He made his way to her bangs and fixed their shape pulling them out of her face. Both of their cheeks tuning a litte red from embarrassment during the process. In the end, Gisu looked like she did at the beginning of the day. “Thank you. For everything.” “What do you mean by everything now?” Gisu said in between giggles. “Just… everything.” 

The bus came to a stop in front of them, the doors opening and the conductor not minding the two teenagers who were having a moment. “I guess you need to go now…” Yeah…” Gisu made her way to the bus and stepped on the entrance. Stopping for a moment and turning around. She pushed Dion's hair out of his face and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Dion was starstruck as he watched Gisu back away and the bus leave the stop heading back to the road. His face slowly turned red and he realizing that he needed to go back to his family. A tough night of conversations was ahead of them. But he knew that maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Tomorrow, he would work his best to be better. 

[daddysfangirls-anime]

I’ll be back

Pairing: Levi x reader

warning: language, beating, sad, angst, attempt sexual assault.

summary: Levi loved someone who was too young to love and decided to break her would be better. He was wrong.

Prompt: People think the lion fell in love with the lamb but it was the other way around. The lamb fell in love with the lion…

Right before he broke her heart;  Before he destroyed her; Before he tore her into pieces…

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…”

The Lion and The Lamb

 Levi Ackerman

Originally posted by aurieackerman

The Lion.

He was cruel but not cruel enough to walk past the please of a girl in need. Sighing in annoyances he followed the young girls scream into an alley. He leaned against a wall for a moment watching a young girl struggle against three men.

She kicked, punched, and clawed as the men laughed and beat her down. She looked about 12 Years old maybe younger. She wore sandals and a white dress that obviously wasn’t white anymore.

The Lamb.

He tensed up when he saw one of the men begin to unbuckle his pants. This was where he drew the line.

“hey” he shouted pushing off the wall and walked towards them “that’s enough, leave her alone”

“Hey pal, mind your own business just keep walking.” One guy steps forward he was about 5′9 with blonde hair he had a tooth gap and smelled heavily of booze, all of them smelled heavily of booze they were all filthy.

He scoffed and looked as the blonde approached and put a hand on his shoulder, a filthy hand, bad idea. As quick as he could he kicked the guy in the back of his leg making him drop to his knees then took his arm and kneeing it snapping it in two. The blonde screeched and fell back.

“Holy shit. He snapped Gavin’s arm. He fucking snapped Gavin’s arm” another guy yelled trembling as he backed away. He seemed to be the youngest of the three and the most scared.

“Get Him” the other guy shouted he was fatter and bald. He was the one with his pants unbuckled he was holding the girl’s head in his hands.

“I’m out of here”

“Charlie. Charlie, Charlie get your ass back here, Charlie”

“Fuck you Riley” the bald guy, Riley, groaned and looked towards the guy about to kick his ass.

“you think you’re tough”

the so-called tough guy pulled out a pocket knife “ I think I’m annoyed and disgusted by you pigs” taking a large step he thrust his knife into Riley’s shoulder forcing him to cry out and step off the girl. Pulling back he slashed his face and Riley fell back.

“I should get you like the pig you are” he turned away from him and to the girl.

He took a knee beside her “are you okay?” she continued to just look forward and sob. Her right eye was swollen shut her face bloody and bruised. She couldn’t feel anything.

“where do you live?” she crooked out her address he then picked her up and took her home.

“what’s your name?” he asked as he bandaged her up

“ (y/n) (L/n)”.

The Lamb.

“Levi Ackerman”.

The Lion.

“where’s the rest of your family?” Levi asked.

“My- my brother is a soldier, scout regime, left last year”

he’s probably died Levi thought “where are your parents?” the room fell silent Levi didn’t think she heard him “where’s your -”

“dead. Everyone died. I’m alone”. Her brother took care of her all of her life. Her mother was a prostitute who abandons her children when it got too hard. Their aunt was generous to pick them up and take care of them the best she could. But two weeks ago she had fallen and never recovered. (y/n) was left to fend for herself, which she was doing poorly at.

Levi finished fixing up her face then cleaned up, he meant to clean up the mess he made but ended up cleaning the whole house. (y/n) watched from her seat on the couch. This man, Levi, was very sweet and kind or at least seemed that way.

“how old are you?” Levi asked swiping the floors

“12″ she answered. Levi was 21.

“This place is dirty”

“I’m sorry”

“it’s fine I’ll teach you. How long have you been alone?” Levi asked as he checked her cabin which were empty

“four days”.

“Alright, I’ll be back” that’s what he said as he left (y/n) though it meant a few minutes or hours, in reality, he meant a few days. When Levi returned he waltzed right in and headed to the kitchen with bags. (y/n) didn’t know this and grabbed a bat she tiptoed into the kitchen seeing the intruder she raised the bat alone her head and swung down the intruder caught it.

“listen hear you ungrateful little brat” immediately she dropped that bat and began to apologize. Levi ignored her and continued to put things away. Her cabin was now stocked with food and cleaning supplies.

“I’ll be back” once again he was gone this time he didn’t return for two weeks. When he came back it was late at night and you were trying to go to bed when she got up and saw Levi in the middle of her living room she broke into tears Levi once again ignore her tears.

“I’ve brought books,” he said placing a stack of books on the kitchen table.

“where did you go?” once again ignored Levi checked her cabin she was still stocked. Looking at her he noticed her clothes were a bit small.

“I’ll be back … with clothes”

“no wait please” (y/n) said but it’s too late and Levi’s out the door.

Once again she was alone. Levi comes and went as he please which hurt (y/n) a lot. Having no friends or family (y/n) was left alone. Ever since that incident with three men, she didn’t risk going outside. The only person she had to connect with is Levi and he never stayed. And it hurt (y/n) every time he left because she never knew when he’d be back but she kept hope in her little breaking heart that he would.

The relationship continued like this for a little under a year until Levi stopped coming for good. Unknowing to (y/n) Levi was forced to join the scout regiment with his two loyal friends, siblings. For a year (y/n) learned to fend and steal for herself and once again she was alone but more alone than before. The underground was not a place for a child alone yet here she is.

A year after leaving Levi returned. (y/n) came back home to find Levi on her couch reading a book that he brought her long ago.

“you’re back” (y/n) said as she got teary-eyed she immediately tried to hug him but he got up before she reached him “ I stocked your cabin“

“where have you been?” she asked sitting on her knees on the couch “The place is really clean. You’ve done well” he ignores her question. She didn’t need to know his business what he did was his problem. She needed to stay in her child-like world and stop asking the question before she got answers she didn’t like. But she was going to have to get an answer she wasn’t going to like

“14, right?”

“excuse me?”

“you’re 14, now, right? 14 years old”

“yeah,” he nods acknowledging her.

“where did you go?” (y/n) asked again wiping tears away Levi didn’t say anything he walked over to the coat rack pulling something from his jacket a letter. He placed it on the kitchen table. It was a letter that contains an answer she didn’t like to a question she never asked.

Levi left standing outside the house he stood there he heard her crying. Now she knew her brother wasn’t coming home. Levi walked away as he knew he formed another crack in her already breaking heart. Levi never came back after that.

A few months later wall Maria fell and (y/n), The Little Lamb, made a choice to follow Levi, The bold Lion. 5 years later they’d be introduced to each other again by Commander Erwin Smith (y/n) (L/n) as a new and top recruit and Levi Ackerman as the Captain of the top scout regime squad.

“Levi I’d like you to meet Cadet (L/n) the top recruit of her class and new recruit ago he found her a child in the street him an early young man. He caught uncertain feelings for her in her young supposedly teenage years and his early adult years. He tried to keep her safe and healthy and away from danger while keeping his distance with his uncertain feelings. And also breaking her heart hoping she’d never feel the same. But she did at a very young age, she did.

The Lamb fell in love with The Lion as he tried not to love her. But in the end, The Lion fell in love with The Lamb which he had broken.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 112

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War --- tread carefully.

Steve landed the quinjet as Bucky and Y/N grabbed weapons. 

“You shouldn’t come in with us,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too bad,” Y/N responded, slipping guns into the holster of her suit, that was thankfully in the quinjet. “I’m coming.”

Bucky sighed before looking up at Y/N. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“I’m not the same woman. But…” Y/N stepped forward, took Bucky’s metal hand, and held it to her chest. “You’re still my Bucky.”

Bucky studied her eyes for a second before swiftly putting his free hand on the back of her head and pulling her in to meet his lips. She was shocked, not kissing back for a few, before remembering how much she loved the feeling of his lips on hers. He was the one to end the kiss, stepping away and breaking all physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Bucky apologized. “I’m not in the correct mindset.”

He quickly made his way over to the back of the quinjet, waiting for the ramp to lower. Y/N joined him before Steve left the pilot’s chair and stood in the middle of them as the ramp lowered.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” Bucky questioned.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, with a reminiscent smile.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Steve continued.

“What was her name again?” Bucky asked.

“Dolores,” Y/N responded. “You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are we, pal,” Steve said, clamping his hand on Bucky’s shoulders. 

The three of them looked at each other before Steve slipped his helmet on and they exited the quinjet. It was cold, the wind blowing harshly as snow covered the ground. Bucky led them to the entrance, set in rock. The door was open.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve said as they stared at the door.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky said. Both men looked over to Y/N. 

“Last chance. I really wish—“

“Save it Steve. You know I’m not leaving,” Y/N retorted.

Both men sighed. “Then no powers unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t need you throwing up in the middle of a fight.”

Y/N gave a small nod before Steve led them in, her in the middle and Bucky tailing. They entered a small elevator. She watched as the men nodded at each other while the elevator went down. Once it rattled to a stop, the men heaved up the doors. Steve held up his shield as the other two held up their guns, walking along a corridor, keeping close to a wall. 

The trio headed up a flight of stairs, Bucky leading, Y/N in the middle, and Steve at the end, when they heard a noise from behind them. They swiftly spun around, aiming down the corridor. Still keeping his gun up, Bucky gently pushed Y/N down so that she was more hidden.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded. 

The three held their positions as the creaking of the doors at the end of the corridor continued. The double doors part, forced open by Iron Man. Both Steve and Y/N stared in surprise. Tony walked towards them, retracting the suits helmet.

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented. 

Steve got up and walked towards Tony, keeping his shield up. Tony eyed Y/N who was slowly following.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve replied.

“At ease, Soldier,” Tony said. “I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. My girl friend also wasn’t at the place that I left her. Figured she was with you.”

“Tony—“

“Ross has no idea I’m here,” Tony cut Y/N off to continue. He lended his shoulder against a large cement post. “I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve said, lowing his shield. It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop.”

Steve signals Bucky to lower his weapon, in which he does. Y/N walked up to Tony, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Nat called and warned me. I had to come help.”

Tony stared at her, studying her carefully for a moment. He had a feeling for a few days now that something was up, something besides the Accords. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms. He held a kiss to her head. Bucky tensed at the gesture, which Tony noticed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Tony put his helmet back over his face and the four of them cautiously walked further into the bunker. The three men were positioned so that Y/N was in the middle of them. Iron Man was leading the way towards an enormous chamber with capsules standing in it.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony stated.

“How many?” Steve asked.

Tony paused before answering, “Uh, one.”

As the entered the chamber, the lights turned on. A hazy, yellow mist descended within the capsules around the room. Each capsule contained a soldier. They all looked around, bewildered.

“If it’s any comfort,” Helmut Zemo’s voice came over a speaker, “they died in their sleep.”

They all walked around, staring at the soldiers that had each been shot in the head.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo continued.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.” 

Zemo appeared in the control room, through a small window. Tony lifted up his hand as Steve threw his shield, but it bounced back.

“Please, Captain,” Zemo taunted. “The The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorted. The four of them rounded the center consul so that they could be closer to Zemo.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questioned. Staring Zemo straight on.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“You're Sokovian,” Y/N stated, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“You lost someone?” Steve wondered.

Zemo, looking grave, clicked his tongue. "I lost everyone. And so will you.” A screen suddenly turned on, bringing everyone’s attentions to it. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

They all moved over and looked at the screen. The frozen frame of a secluded road and the date, December 16, 1991. Tony’s face helmet disappeared, his eyes briefly met Y/n’s before flickering back to the screen that began to play.

“I know that road,” Tony stated, anxiously. “What is this?”

All eyes were now on the screen. A car came into the frame, crashing into a tree. Y/N watched as someone road up on a motor cycle and got off. The Winter Soldier. Steve watched Tony’s increasing unease. The driver got out of the car, crawling on the ground.

“Howard,” Y/N gasped quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Help me wife,” Howard begged on the video. “Please. Help.” The Winter Soldier walked over and hoisted him up by his hair. “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Howard!” Maria called. 

Tony looked up and glared at Bucky, before his eyes found their way back to the screen. Y/N was unable to take her eyes off the screen, her heart began racing. On the screen, the Winter Soldier lifted his metal fist.

“Wait!” Howard begged, hand digging into his suit coat. “You don’t want to do this, Barnes. Look.” Howard pulled out the photo of him and Y/N dancing. “We knew each other… You know her… Remember.”

Y/N heart clenched as a sob torn through her. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to keep it quiet.

“Please don’t,” Howard continued. “Remember Y/N at least.”

After a brief glance at the photo, the Winter Soldier punched Howard over and over.

“Howard!” Maria called again.

Howard slumped over, dead. The Winter Soldier put him in the driver’s seat, face against the steering wheel. He walked around the the passenger side, where Maria was located. The Soldier reached in and gripped her throat, expressionless as he strangled Maria. The Winter Soldier then walked up and aimed a gun at the surveillance camera, ending the feed.

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly. It was the only thing she could hear. Her breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. Losing her balance, she backed up into the wall and slid down it. Steve kept his eyes on Tony, who lunged towards Bucky.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stopping him.

Tony looked at Steve, clearly consumed with grief and tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you know?” Tony asked, trying to control his emotions. 

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“Yes.” 

Tony stepped back, chin jutting up in a twitch. Looking over at Y/N, he sees her struggling with this as well, making him realize that she didn’t know either. Tony reengaged his helmet. He punched Steve to the floor and deflected gunfire from Bucky, disarming him. Grabbing Bucky, he flew across the chamber, slamming Bucky onto the floor. Tony pinned Bucky’s arms down but was unable to fire because Steve threw his shield at him.

Steve barged Tony backwards. Tony then shouldered Steve to the floor, shackling his ankles. Bucky came back up and punched Tony, who just listed him and slammed him against a machine. Tony raised a fist, but Bucky twisted it. A rocket shot out from the Iron Man suit, a fireball exploding. Steve sliced his shackles as a towering structure of pipework collapsed.

Barely registering what was happening around her, Y/N was quickly thrown back into her senses, as pieces of metal began to fall around her, boxing her into the corner. 

“Ah!” She screamed.

Bucky and Tony were thrown to the ground by the metal, not hearing her screams. Steve though, did.

“No,” he whispered. Steve and Bucky stood up, making eye contact. “Find Y/N and get out of here!”

Bucky nodded. He quickly found her, throwing the metal to the side.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N shaking in his hold as Bucky rushed towards the wall with the lowest platform. He hit a control panel, opening the over head roof. Tony shot at them, thankfully missing, before Steve landed in front of him. 

“It wasn’t him, Tony,” Steve stated. “HYDRA had control of his mind!”

“Move!” Tony ordered, hovering. He began to fly over Steve.

“It wasn’t him!”

Steve grabbed onto Tony’s ankle in mid air, smashing the bottom of the boot. They fought while Bucky was trying his best to make his way up the platforms with an almost unresponsive Y/N in his arms. He began to notice that the trembling was increasing and that she was sweating everywhere.

Tony unsteadily soared upwards as Bucky jumped across to another platform, Y/n still in his arms. Tony kicked Bucky down, causing him to let go of Y/n, who rolled away. Tony then took aim but Steve quickly jumped in front of Bucky, using his shield to rebound the energy back to Tony. He dropped, landing on a lowering platform.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve stated, helping Bucky up. “Go.”

“Steve, it’s too dangerous for me to take Y/N,” Bucky worried. “Look.”

Steve looked over to see Y/N shaking, with sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I’ve got her,” Steve stated. “Go.”

Bucky ran and Steve leaped over and shot a wire around Tony’s neck, dragging him down. Tony deflected Steve’s shield, before trying to target Bucky.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered.

“Targeting system’s knackered, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“I’m eyeballing it.”

Tony’s helmet retracted and he shut one eye, taking aim at the opening hatch. He fired, hitting the giant hinge and cutting off Bucky’s escape route. Tony then flew up, blocking two swings from an iron pipe Bucky was trying to use. Tony grabbed Bucky around the neck from behind.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony asked.

“I remember all of them,” Bucky replied.

Bucky pushed them both of the walkway. Steve jumped into them to deflect their fall. Bucky landed on a platform while Tony and Steve landed on the concrete floor besides an opening in the wall where snow drifts in. Finally hearing more of the commotion, Y/N pushed herself up, looking over the side.

“No,” she panted. 

The three men she loved most in the world where fighting each other and she had no strength to stop them. She winced as she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen. 

“No, no, no,” she whispered frantically. 

Pushing herself up, she shakily jumped down from platform to platform as the men still fought.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened,” Steve said to Tony.

“I don’t care,” Tony replied. “He killed my mom.”

The two began going at each other, with Bucky shown joining in. Y/N got down to their level as Bucky was blasted away from Tony, his metal arm blowing off. Tony zapped him again, throwing him to the side. Y/N rushed as quick as she could over to him.

“B-bucky,” she called, collapsing beside him. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky coughed up some blood. “Go,” he groaned. “You have to get out of here.”

“But you’re all killing each other.”

“And you shouldn’t have to see that… go… please…. I love you.”

“Bucky, I—“

“Go.”

With an unsteady inhale and a nod, Y/N opened a portal to the quinjet. She knew she couldn’t get much further than that. Closing it, she fell onto the ground. She had no more energy to move but her body still forced her to vomit. Y/N couldn’t focus on anything around her, black spots filling her vision. With one more heave, she blacked out.

~~~

Tony and Steve were both panting as Steve ripped the shield out of Tony’s suit and helped Bucky up. They began to walk away, leaving Tony on the ground.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” Tony said. “My father made that shield!”

Pausing, Steve raised his chin before dropping the shield. He walked around, with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, leaving Tony to stare at the shield. Panting, he watched it until something suddenly hit him.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “No.” He pushed himself up. “Y/N!” 

He called her name as she walked around, searching for her. Tony feared ash something terrible had happened to her or that she had gone with Steve and Bucky. He eventually, after almost an hour, gave up the search and headed out of the bunker. Tony was thankful to still see a quinjet here. As he entered the jet, he saw a body laying in the middle of it.

“Y/N… Baby?” 

Tony slowly limped over to her. As he drew closer, he noticed the blood seeping from somewhere in between her legs. He rushed to kneel next to her. 

“Honey,” he tried to be gentle but firm as he turned her over from the vomit she was in and patted her cheek. “Y/N, please.” 

But nothing. He quickly moved to find where the blood was coming from. There was no gash, no wound. As he ran through all the possible things, Tony’s mind came to one solution. 

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.” 

He hurried and got the quinjet into the air and set for the compound before getting out of his battle torn suit. Tony then took Y/N into his arms, rocking her as he begged for her to wake. 

“I can’t lose more than I already have… I’m so sorry…” 

Dr. Cho was already there waiting for the quinjet when they landed back at the compound. Her and her people rushed Y/N away from Tony. He watched helplessly, falling onto his knees as tears trailed down his cheeks. And he did the one thing he’d never done before in his life. Tony Stark prayed. 

“Please God… don’t take them from me… I’ll be better, work harder… I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Including my own life… Just don’t take them from me. I’m begging you… I-I-I didn’t even know… I didn’t even know…”

next chapter >

I’ll see you guys after Disney World! I’ll still be responding to asks and comments!

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[dreamescapeswriting]

One Summer In Paris ~ Missing

WORD COUNT: 4K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, 

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Grace grumbled as she made her way up the stairs to the apartment, she hadn't made the trip in years and here she was trying to find out where you were since the shop was open and no one was manning the till except for Josh who'd come by when he noticed the doors open. She was far too old to be climbing up all of these stairs on her own so she hit the door with her walking stick the second she got close enough.

"Y/n!" You jolted awake upon hearing your name rubbing the back of your neck from the dull pain that was there. 

"Grace? What-What's going on?" You groaned getting up from the floor, you'd fallen asleep on the floor in the apartment above your own while you were crying the night before. You pulled the door open to see Grace leaning on the wall as she tried to catch her breath.

"You tell me! I get a worried Joshua calling me because the shop doors are open and no one is here, what are you doing?! This is that stupid boy-" She continued ranting on as she grumbled about how stupid Jungkook was but your head was going back to the doors being open.

"I locked the doors..." You began running through your head about the night before, you remembered shutting and locking the door behind you since everyone had been gathered outside. 

"You and that stupid Jungkook boy! Whenever he's around you do nothing but make stupid decisions! I'm glad I told him to leave when I did when he was here the first time!" She continued ranting away about how she was the reason Jungkook left, you stared at her confused. Jungkook had left because he was famous and had obligations to go back to not because Grace had said something to him, 

"What do you mean you told him to leave?" You questioned as you stared at her, your blood boiling with every passing second. 

"I knew you were pregnant, I knew he would be no good. I told him to leave. I told him you didn't need him around." As much as you wanted to scream out at Grace your head went back to you being pregnant at the time.

"Areum-" You raced out of the apartment while Grace yelled after you to stop moving away from her while she was talking to you but you didn't care. Rushing into the apartment below you sprinted into your daughter's room to see Areum's bed was empty, her backpack was gone and some of her clothes were missing. 

"A-Areum?!" You screamed out looking around the apartment, maybe she'd been gone into your room but the whole place was empty. There were no signs of her anywhere making your heart race, Paris was huge and she had no idea where she was going alone. 

"Listen to me young lady I have been nothing but kind to you since you showed-" Your hand raised to your temples as you turned around to face Grace who seemed a little startled at you,

"Grace! Enough! My daughter is missing! I don't care if you don't like Jungkook okay?! It's not as if we're ever going to work out because of who he is but if you'll excuse me! I have a daughter to try and find," Grace stumbled back as you pushed out of the apartment trying to call Jungkook who but his phone was going straight to voicemail. You punched your hand into the wall crying out as you reached his voicemail box again,

"Did you take Areum with you? I'm not...I'm not mad but call me...Tell me she's with you please," You whispered your voice cracking at the thought of your daughter suddenly going missing. If she wasn't with Jungkook you'd have no idea where else she could be.

"Josh. Watch the shop until my worker can come in-" You tried to tell him but he began questioning you on what you were doing.

"Where are you doing?" He questioned as you looked outside, there were no more paparazzi and screaming fans so you assumed someone had said something to them the night before. Hopefully, Jungkook had called someone to fix everything but now you had another problem.

"Areum isn't here, is she with you?" He shook his head offering to call the police but you knew you couldn't call them until it had been at least a couple of hours. She had to have been missing for at least 24-hours before you could call someone about it.

"I'll find her dad, she...She has to be with him." You were stuttering as you walked out of the shop without a second thought about it. You began calling Jungkook's phone over and over again as you walked towards the hotel you knew he was staying at,

"Jungkook please answer your phone, I'm worried sick...She has to be with you, please tell me she's with you." You felt like you were going to vomit at the thought of Areum not being with him but out in Paris alone.

Areum jumped into Jungkook's arms as he spun her around in the air before he placed her sitting her on his hip. They were having breakfast together after having a sleepover the night before. Areum had shown up at the hotel a couple of minutes after him, he'd just gotten to his room when the reception called him and told him that they had a girl claiming to be his daughter. 

"Can I stay over again tonight?" Areum questioned as she walked over to the bed and began jumping up and down on it. Jungkook laughed softly about to say something when his phone began buzzing, it was finally turning back on after dying on him the night before. There were over 100 missed calls from you along with a lot of voicemails, as he was about to listen to them another call came through. He answered it, 

"Hey What's-" He was cut off when you began yelling at him loudly down the other side of the phone but he didn't understand a word you were saying.

"Y/n? W-Whoa! Why are you yelling?!" He grumbled moving the phone away from his ear so he could change ears. 

"WHY AM I YELLING?! Where's Areum?! Where-" Jungkook looked at Areum who was now hiding behind a pillow on the bed,

"She's sitting on my bed, she told me you dropped her off outside the hotel to sleep here for the night-" The scoff that left your throat made Jungkook realise that couldn't have been true.

"And you believed her?! You're such a fucking-" You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. Reminding yourself that the most important thing was that Areum was safe and sound instead of being around Paris. 

"C-Can I talk to her?" Jungkook hummed trying to give Areum the phone but she wiggled away from Jungkook and into the bathroom slamming and locking the door behind her. 

"She's in the bathroom, she won't-" The thought of your own daughter not wanting to see you made your heart break into pieces. 

"Let me in, please. I tried to get in but the receptionist kicked me out," Areum was still in the bathroom but Jungkook agreed hanging up the phone and to go to the door of the hotel room. There was no way Areum could get out without the room key so he began racing down to the reception area to look for you.

"Where is she?" He pulled you towards the elevator when he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands were shaking as he got you into the elevator. You'd been feeling sick from the moment you realised Areum was missing.

"She's in the bathroom, she can't get out of the hotel room though." You looked at him while you swallowed the lump in your throat not knowing what to say about it, 

"G-Grace came to wake me up, the shop doors were open she must have walked out last night when I was kicking off...J-Jungkook," He shook his head at you, wrapping his arms around you as he brought you into a hug promising you that Areum was fine. Sobbing into his chest you held onto Jungkook's shirt tightly in your fist as you tried to calm yourself down. All you wanted to hug Areum but you wanted to discipline her for running out on you like that, she knew she wasn't supposed to be alone out on the streets like that. She knew the rules about going off on her own.

"Areum?" You called out cooly as you walked into the bathroom. Jungkook had used a knife on the door lock on the outside so you could walk into the room. When you walked in she was sitting in the giant bathtub, seriously that thing was the size of your bed back home almost. Areum was crying as she looked at her hands not wanting to look at you, 

"Why are you crying, princess?" You groaned as you got into the bathtub beside her, she sniffled using her firsts to wipe her face. Jungkook handed her some tissue as he got in beside her, you'd both sandwiched her between one another.

"You and dad were fighting...You were supposed to be happy, w-we went out together, we were a family. We were going to be a happy and complete family." You bit your lip as you realised what she wanted to happen and what she thought was happening between the two of you. Jungkook looked at you sadly as he even realised what Areum was talking about. 

"A-Areum me and your dad...We haven't been together in a long time and we- We might never be again," Jungkook felt his heart shut down as you said it might never be he thought the time you'd spent together would be good and lead to more. 

"I want you to be together, you have to be together like in all of the movies," All of those movies seemed to be going to her head and your heart sank at the thought of telling a four-year-old girl that love stories weren't always real. Jungkook looked at Areum as she began to nod off, she hadn't slept well the night before Jungkook knew that since she was in the bed beside him on his phone watching movies and playing games. 

"Let's let her sleep for a while," He whispered picking her up and taking her over to the bedroom, he placed her into the bed and you both sat on the floor watching her. You leant back against the wall watching her in silence and Jungkook sigh as he went off to make a drink. 

"I haven't been that scared since her birth," You admitted as Jungkook handed you a mug of hot chocolate, he slid down onto the floor beside you and watched you. He'd been wondering things about the pregnancy but he never knew how to ask you about it all.

"What happened when she was born?" You swallowed some of the hot chocolate letting it relax you as you leant your head back against the wall just watching Areum sleeping. The thoughts of her birth coming back to you,

"It was a difficult birth-" You'd never opened up to anyone about this, not even Grace who had you discharged from the hospital.

"We nearly died Jungkook," You whimpered as you turned to look up at him.

Dear god, why did it have to be now? Was this some kind of punishment for not telling Jungkook that you were carrying around his child. It had been eight months since Jungkook left and you knew you were due but not for another month at least. You whined out as you rubbed your hand over your stomach trying to calm yourself down.

"You alright dear?" An elderly lady beside you on the bus questioned when she watched you run your hand over the bump that was coming from your top. You shook your head as you locked eyes with her for a second, 

"I-I think I'm in labour," You stuttered but just as you finished your sentence the bus stopped abruptly and you groaned looking out of the window. The whole roads seemed to be blocked and it looked as though you were going to be here for a while.

"Traffic? It's not rush hour," You hissed looking at the elderly lady who was getting up to see what was taking so long, 

"There's some kind of event going on, the stadium is packed out for some boy band." The universe was really trying to torture you with this, you stared out of the window to see posters of Jungkook strung everywhere. There were huge posters of him everywhere making you feel even worse about this. Your eyes glanced around out of the window to see fans all over the place. That was what was blocking the roads and stopping everything from moving. 

"Hey, it's okay. We'll get you to the hospital in no time," The elderly came back over to you, introducing herself as Audrey as she tried to distract you from the pain you were experiencing. You stared into her eyes as you began to feel the pain of a contraction rush through you, along with a sweating sensation and a pain that made your head fall back against the seats. You groaned out loudly as you felt a contraction hit you,

"Can you keep it down!" Someone yelled from the back of the bus as they played their show out for everyone to hear. Audrey shook her head as she stood up to look at the children at the back,

"She's in labour, how about you show some consideration," Audrey snapped back stripping herself from the cardigan she was wearing and looking at you. It was May in Paris so you were in a summer dress. She put your legs up onto the chair in front of you to make you comfortable and she looked at you, 

"Do you want me to check? Or I can call a doctor," You nodded at the second option taking out your phone to call Grace who was supposed to be with you when you went into labour but evidently she wasn't here. She was supposed to be the one that helped you through all of this since she used to be a midwife.

"Hi, yes! I have a young girl here who seems to be going into labour," Your eyes were starting to water as you felt another contraction coming on, your hands gripped onto the edge of the chair as you screamed out in pain. Crying heavily as you threw your head back against the seat, 

"We're stuck in traffic, there's no way for us to get to you or for you to get to us...Yes...Yes...I understand, thank you." She hung up her phone and looked at you anxiously which didn't make you feel like the best right now,

"We have to try and time your contractions okay? Did you take birth classes, do you know the techniques?" You knew everything, you'd been doing all of the classes with Grace by your side as well as taking extra classes since you were so scared of doing this alone. The books were piled up at home which you'd been reading every time they'd come into the shop.

"I don't want to do this here, I don't want to," You were laid on the back seats of the bus with your legs up, the men on the bus had all surrendered their jackets to put up against the windows so no one could see inside while Audrey and another lady from the bus were up at the back of the bus with you. The driver had turned on the engine to run the air-conditioner for you while others were offering you water, blankets and everything else you were going to need for this.

"You have to, you're ready to push and we still can't move okay? Push for five seconds, ready?"

"No!" You screamed looking at her but she gave you a sympathetic smile while squeezing your hand, you took a deep breath before pushing for as hard and long as you could, 

"Let's go," Your head flung back against the seat as you began crying, you could hear the music from the concert playing as you began delivering your baby, it was truly the worlds way of saying "fuck you" to you as you did all of this. Pushing harder as you heard chanting of Jungkook's name, along with others.

"Push!" You screamed out a curse word in french as you began pushing once again trying to block out the music as you continued to push through the pain that was ripping through you. 

"A couple more pushes and you'll be done, I promise," Audrey squeezed your hand but you couldn't feel it, everything felt like it was so far away from you right now nothing felt like where it was supposed to be. Even the concert music and screams of the fans were beginning to drown in and out of your hearing. 

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" You rolled your head forward limply pushing once again until you heard a screaming child and people clapping. You smiled weakly as you heard the healthy screams of a baby,

"It's a girl," Someone yelled cheerfully but your body slumped forward in the seat, 

"Audrey?" The other woman that had been helping yelled as she tried to wake you up but your heart rate was slowing down and they could barely feel it pulsating in your neck. 

"Ambulance or something, please! She's losing a lot of blood!" The screams continued until you heard nothing else around you.

"I woke up in the hospital a week later, Grace had been looking after Areum while I was out." You whispered as you looked at Jungkook before staring down into the cup in your hands. 

"We were in town?" Jungkook felt odd that he was there for the birth of his daughter but not really there for you. You nodded at him while laughing at yourself thinking back on it now you could laugh on it, 

"I think the universe was trying to play some kind of sick joke on me for not telling you," He sighed wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you began to cry into his arms thinking back on it all.

"I'm sorry Jungkook, I should have told you when I got pregnant, I just-" He shook his head at you kissing your temple softly, 

"I should have told you who I was. I guess it kind of makes us even," You rolled your eyes, there was nothing on this Earth that could make you even for taking his daughter away from knowing him for four years. You'd never do it again, you were going to let him be a part of her life any way he wanted.

"I knew if you knew you'd stay but you mean so much to those people and I-I was angry at you for not telling me so I hid it. I'm sorry." Jungkook shook his head at you and you stared into his eyes wondering how he was being so calm about this, 

"Everything happens for a reason right?" You remembered saying that to him, he had you tattoo the saying onto the inside of his arm which made you smile.

"What?" He chuckled wondering what you were thinking about and you reached up to touch his arm gently, 

"I just remembered you making me tattoo the saying on you-" He knew what you were going to say so he began rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the tattoo to you. It was still right there, along with some new additions to his neverending collection, 

"You didn't cover it up?" He shook his head at your question he would never cover something up that meant so much to him. 

"Why would I cover up something someone I love did for me?" Your eyebrows raised at his statement and you stared at him, 

"Love? Not past tense?" He nodded taking your hand in his and giving it a small squeeze and your heart began to pound once again. 

"I still love you," He whispered as he finally admitted that he was still in love with you after all of this time.

"I love you too," You admitted to him and to yourself as you stared at him. His hand slowly reached up to cup your face in his hand and he ran his thumb along your skin smiling to himself as he could finally touch you the way he used to. He'd missed being able to be free with you like this no more holding back around you. 

"I missed you," He whispered as he moved closer to you - as if it was even possible you were practically sitting on top of one another as it was. 

"Every time I looked at Areum and I saw you...I missed you a lot Jungkook," Without another thought, you connected your lips together wanting to know if the sparks were still there and they were. The fireworks exploded in your head as soon as your lips touched one another and from there it was as if nothing had changed, there had been no break between you. He moved his hands onto your waist and sat you on his lap while you worked your hands into his black hair tugging at the strands as you made out on the floor. Everything felt as though it was falling into place as you kissed him, all of the pieces of the jigsaw clicking into place, he licked along your bottom lip but you pulled away from him. Panting heavily as you laid your forehead against his, 

"W-We should stop before she wakes up," Your voice came out hoarse and Jungkook smirked, he loved that he still had that effect on you. You didn't want Areum to see and get excited over something after you both told her you weren't together.

"I just-" The door opened as he was about to talk so you sprung apart, standing there was Namjoon who was scanning the room for Jungkook until he saw you standing there. 

"Y/n, I've heard a lot about you." His voice was calm as he shook your hand which made you laugh softly. Jungkook was glowing a bright red colour as the room was suddenly filled by 7 men all of them staring at you both. BTS and their manager who did not look too pleased to see Jungkook right now, 

"We have a lot to do to sort all of this out, I took care of the paparazzi and fans last night but-" He stopped speaking once he noticed that you were in the room, he didn't know how to deal with this. 

"Mum?" You turned to see Areum making her way over to you all as she rubbed her eyes tiredly wondering what was going on around her, 

"She's tired, I can take her home and get some rest-" You tried to tell Jungkook,

"No!" All six members chorused as they turned to look at you and a startled Areum. 

"I've been picking up toys since I left my apartment," Taehyung groaned wanting to spend time with someone who he would treat as a little niece. He held up a bag in his hand,

"I had to admit I brought along some things for her too," Namjoon admitted, everyone looked at you since you were the one in charge of her. Jungkook turned to you to see if you would be comfortable with all of it and you smiled.

"We can get to know one another while Jungkook gets into trouble," Jimin laughed wrapping his arm around you as Jungkook was lead out of the room with his manager. You quickly exchanged looks and a small wave before the door shut behind him and you were left with Areum and her six uncles who were all dying to get to know her more. 

"She's tired so don't be too surprised if she starts crying at too much attention," Areum was sitting beside Taehyung and Yoongi as they spoke to her asking her some basic questions. A small toy piano sitting in front of her as Yoongi taught her some basic chords as she stared up at him in awe.

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @neverthefirstchoice @jikooksgirl19 @jungkooksseuphoria @queenmasterxx @janieooo @preciouschimine​    @koremis​ @keijilovebot​ @silscintilla​ @mayafravoli

[terrm9]

you give it to me anyway (Tatum X Lina)

Set immediately after the ending of chapter 13.

Update (after the events of chapter 14): in this little series, Tatum does not go back to the army but is relocated to work as a bodyguard for some random politician in Rutherland. That's why this goodbye of theirs is not as heartbreaking as it was canonically. Therefore, shall the two other parts happen, they will not follow canon because I have them planned and I refuse to make new plans

WC: 3 600; rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of smoking, alcohol consumption, adult situations; hurt/comfort

Author’s note: my first Foreign Affair fic - it was so much fun to write I forgot about my two idiot doctors for a while. This is supposed to be part 1 of three-parts mini series, but 1) I have no idea when those two other parts will happen and 2) if it goes by plan, they will be all completely okay to read as stand-alones so hopefully this will be enjoyable no matter what.

She could feel it. She could swear she could; she could pinpoint the moment her mind stopped working and all the energy normally divided between the gears in her head and the beating of her heart suddenly focused solely on the latter.

Her mind stopped working and her heart drummed against her ribcage twice as hard.

Lina doesn’t remember much after that, after bursting through the door and demanding an answer (“Why the fuck would you take Tatum off the team?”), her memories a messy blur of shouting (hers), a voice trying to calm her down (Demarco’s) and the one that mattered in the end.

“Lina,” Tatum put his hand on her shoulder, his face stoic – but she knew better, she could see his eyes, eyes pained, eyes pleading. “Get inside. I will be with you in a moment.”

“But-“ she opened her mouth to protest, only to be stopped by Tatum’s gentle squeeze and eyes more pleading.

Just get in and wait for me, he whispered and that’s how she has gotten here.

Pacing back and forth in her room, biting her lip so hard she feels blood. Her brain is working again, thinking and analyzing (overthinking, overanalyzing) and she needs a cigarette, a shot of vodka, she needs to punch something (someone), needs to just do something.

The tremor in her hands violent and she clenches them in fists, telling herself that it’s anger, a rage running through her whole body, but there is that traitorous voice that whispers – no, screams – that she knows this is more than that, that it’s fear.

A lump in her throat formed and unmoving and Lina swallows once, twice, keeps swallowing until she cannot catch her breath but the fucking lump is still there and tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and-

No.

Line Monroe does not cry. She has learnt not to cry, hasn’t cried since-

She does not cry.

Tries to take a deep breath but it’s completely useless and Lina knows how she feels. Like a crystal vase in the middle of a big wooden table, beautiful and shiny and protected at all costs – all of it worth nothing when an earthquake comes. This is her personal earthquake, every second pushing her closer to the edge, sobs threatening to cut her open, to leave her mouth and never stop and she wonders if falling over the edge and just break into million pieces would be such a terrible thing.

She could beg. She would beg, if only that would help. She only begged once in her life.

(Lina has never been the picture of a perfect child – well, definitely not after Tatum left. No, she lived for making her mother’s political career an actual hell, she laughed into her face in the middle of a scolding. The First Daughter of Rutherland couldn’t give less fucks about what her mother wants, needs, asks for. Nobody ever asked what she wanted, needed, asked for.)

She only begged once in her life – she was seven and desperately wanted a puppy. (She could do it again at the age of twenty-two and desperately wanting her Tatum.)

Mom, I promise I’ll be good. (Mom, I promise I’ll be good.)

I will take care of him. (He will take care of me.)

I won’t eat sweets. (I won’t smoke. Won’t get drunk.)

I will do all of my homeworks. (I will go on as many fake dates as you want.)

I won’t watch TV. (I won’t cause another scandal.)

I will clean the whole house! (I will attend all the summits, I will, I will.)

Mom, please. (Mom, please.)

She never got the puppy. (She knows that no matter how much she begs, she will not get to keep Tatum, either.)

An earthquake and she is starting to accept her fate, awaiting the final shake, the strongest vibration that will make her fall from the table and shatter.

There is a soft knock on the door and she feels it coming, the magnitude strong enough to stir fear inside of people.

Tatum walks in, closing the door behind him carefully – and the Richter scale does not have enough values to describe how dangerous this earthquake has gotten.

“Lina,” he whispers softly, stretching his arms towards her and that’s it.

The crystal vase falls to the ground (into Tatum’s arms) and the shards cut skin (and the sobs cut Lina open).

It is easy after the first one – like the blood spilling out of the cut, like a plug removed and water pouring, flooding, destroying, the sobs leave her mouth and her shoulders shake and Lina hasn’t done this in four years, hasn’t shed a tear for so long but Tatum’s arms encircle her, strong and firm and safe and no, breaking into million pieces is not such a terrible thing after all.

She thinks she screams in one moment and Tatum only hugs her tighter, slowly dropping to the soft carpet, pulling Lina with him, his arms never (never, never) leaving her shivering body – and she holds onto him tighter than she holds onto her own life (own dignity, own worth, none of it more important that holding onto Tatum), hands still clenched in fists. Lina’s grip on his perfect white shirt must be uncomfortable and she is sure she is ruining the fabric, if not with her nails then definitely with her mascara-tinted tears.

For a long, long moment they stay like that – Tatum kneeling on the floor and Lina curled up against his chest, sobs wrecking her body and his hands drawing soothing circles on her back.

“We will make this work, Lina,” he whispers when the room falls into silence, the only memory of Lina’s ignominious breakdown being Tatum’s soaked shirt and her throbbing temples. “You are strong and the other bodyguards are capable. Demarco is a good agent, they will keep you safe.”

“I don’t care about being safe,” she scoffs. “All my life, everyone has only cared about me being safe. You are… You have always been the only one to care about how I am feeling. If I am happy. And now you are leaving again.”

Tatum pulls back a little – not enough to break the contact of his hands on her shoulders, just enough to look her into eyes – and with a voice that is quiet but firm, leaving no room for doubts, he says: “I am not leaving you, Lina. I won’t be returning to army, okay? I am going back to Rutherland tomorrow and only then I will be informed about this move – maybe I am only being taken off for some time. This is not the same as the last time.”

“I cannot lose you again,” she whispers, not meeting his eyes. As if she was not sure about her decision to share such moment of vulnerability with him.

“You will not. Who is my toughest galyetas here, hm?”

Lina looks up at him at that, the initial shock from hearing the old nickname (the one she hasn’t heard in years, the one she has missed for years) soon replace by her smile, however faint and it’s like the sun peeked into the room all at once.

(Eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears and lips swollen from biting and has she always been this beautiful?, Tatum wonders.)

“I am,” she chuckles before Tatum demands the answer and encouraged by the moment of clarity that has settled over them, she manages to stand up and open the closet.

Impulsive would be a great word to describe Lina. Unpredictable. Fierce. Mostly fierce, Tatum thinks and it should not be a surprise for him when Lina takes off her skinny jeans and light blue blouse, carelessly throwing them over the chair and it should not be a surprise when she follows the motion to take her bra off, no, it should not be a surprise for him and yet-

The heat in his cheeks is inappropriate, for God’s sake, and he should – he must – tear his gaze off her naked back, but he cannot (and how many nights he wished he was granted this? how many days?). He stares and stares as she ruffles through the closet and it’s his time to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“I should… I will leave you to change,” he finds his voice and it’s low and husky and inappropriate, but Lina just smirks as she turns slightly to face him better and he needs to avert his gaze, he must not stare at the curve of her breasts, so perfect above her ribcage.

“You have already seen me naked,” the smirk widens. “And besides, you should get out of that wet shirt too.”

Getting out of his clothes does not sound like a good idea to him, not in the slightest, but it gives him a reason to look down and unbutton his shirt – and that motion gives him some time to take a deep breath and respond.

“Yes, I have seen you naked. When we were five and swimming in a lake.”

He can swear he heard Lina mutter ‘time to check how much has changed in those fifteen years’, but Tatum doesn’t trust himself enough to engage in that conversation and so he carefully slips out of his jacket and the stained shirt and switches his radio off before putting everything in a neat stack on the top of a drawer.

Tatum sits down again after that, his back leaned against Lina’s bed and soon she joins him, soft grey cotton shorts and tank top on. She mirrors his position and they share a private smile, because it is their position, the one everyone knows them by – knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, (heart to heart), Tatum’s arm wrapped around Lina’s shoulders and her hand resting on his right knee. It is always this position for them and Lina can’t count how many photos they have together, where they sit exactly like this.

“Are we going to be okay?” she whispers, almost not daring to break the comfort they bring out of each other. But she needs to. She needs to know that they are going to be okay.

“Of course,” he nudges her knee with his own softly and smiles down at her. For a moment, she pretends she does not see the panic swirling in his eyes, giving away that he does not know, that there is no of course for them.

She nods, her fingers drawing mindless patterns on his leg and she is sure they are not that mindless, she knows that in a language only known to them she is writing her confessions, she is writing a love letter.

More mindless patterns and Lina feels Tatum’s eyes on her, caring and loving and worried, definitely worried, but she doesn’t look up at him because the emotions his gaze can stir inside of her are enough to send her into another breakdown.

“Do you remember Scott Diaz’s party?” she asks into the silence.

Tatum chuckles loudly and squeezes the shoulder he is hugging. “Of course.”

“It was the first time I got drunk,” Lina says as if it was an explanation itself, when in reality this conversation was not making any sense so far.

Scott’s party was the one which only Lina attended when she was sixteen – Tatum had to stay home to help his father with something (it was not important to Lina back then) and Lina didn’t mind that much because she liked Scott and she believed there were higher chances of her charming him without Tatum’s alert gaze directed at her.

“Yes, I remember,” Tatum decides to play this game that makes no sense with her. “It was my toilet you threw up into that night.”

“I remember getting drunk with Scott and his stupid friends and realizing that they were a group of idiots, with Scott being the greatest idiot of them all. But I was drunk and he was my first crush and I just wanted him to like me and I was ready to do anything.”

“Yes,” Tatum says again, this time much more quietly, though. “I remember your phone call at 2 AM. You were crying and asked me to come and rescue you because you are drunk and nauseous and Scott is a dick but you might sleep with him if I don’t come.”

There is a long pause and Lina thinks he might not continue. Even worse, she fears he might ask why she is bringing the story up now.

To her utmost surprise, Tatum laughs and continues: “I stole my dad’s car so that I could get you out of there faster. You threw up in the backseat and my dad almost killed me because he was supposed to take your mother to the airport the next morning.”

Lina laughs with him shortly and the room falls into silence once again.

Once again, Lina makes sure to interrupt the comfort it brings.

“And then you left and there was nobody to rescue me anymore.”

She is not sure why she said that. No, Lina does not want to tell Tatum about those years he has been away. She is scared (and she has never been that scared in her whole damn life), scared to share the failures and slips of her past, scared that he would get up and leave-

(Because that’s what he should do)

-scared that he would see what she sees every time she looks in the mirror and Lina does not care about the opinion of the others, she does not care if someone sees her as someone worthy or not, as long as that someone is not Tatum.

Deep down, she knows he would not, he will not leave, she knows Tatum - the same Tatum that strokes her upper arm now, giving her the space to sort her thoughts – will stay with her even in the moments she does not want to stay with herself.

And there is one fear that is bigger, greater, more terrible than the fear of being left – fear of hurting him. The idea of her past being the reason of his hurt, being the thing that puts the haunted look into his eyes, makes her want to throw up.

She will need to tell him eventually because if somebody deserves her honesty, it’s Tatum Mendoza, her best friend, her savior, her Tatum.

Eventually does not mean now.

Tatum wishes Lina could say something, anything, he wants her to share her demons with him and he almost asks her to tell him everything but before he can do so, she turns abruptly and looks at him, her eyes no longer puffy or red – glossy and bright and beautiful now and she doesn’t say a word.

She just looks at him like he is the only thing in the whole world worth looking at.

"It's your eyes," she says quietly, reaching to cup his stubbled cheek with her left hand.

"My eyes?" Tatum asks, surprised by the sudden statement.

Lina nods, tracing his left eyebrow with her finger before moving to stroke the skin under his eyes and finally reaching the bridge of his nose.

"There's no one else's eyes that could see into me," she whispers and her finger traces circles around his right eye now, soothing the wrinkles - reminders of their earlier laugh.

(She doesn't know those wrinkles are hers; nobody makes him laugh like she does)

Her gaze doesn't leave those eyes, not for a second and and the intensity she looks at him with is far more intimate than her naked form, bare torso and soft skin she shared with him moments ago.

Tatum is sure he must be blushing.

It’s the moment her thumb traces his lower lip when they snap.

The atmosphere of fear and uncertainty and mutual understanding so deep it ignites further fear changing into the one of passion and need and fire, fire, fire, burning inside and outside, the moment their lips meet.

He has kissed many girls and he knows Lina has kissed many people too and fuck, they even kissed each other before but this kiss is different, filled with more than just years of friendship (years of love) – filled with years of separation, years of longing, years of pain.

They kiss as if the pressure of their tongues against each other’s could be their private painkiller.

A moment later they are on the bed and Lina is not sure how they got there, she can’t remember they mouths parting but it must be so, because she is laying on her back, her hands firmly against Tatum’s shoulder blades to pull him closer and it still feels like he is not close enough, one of his hands next to her head and the other tangled in her hair, pulling on them and massaging her scalp all at once as he kisses her the way she has never been kissed before.

Lina’s hand moves from his upper back to his shoulder, caressing the old scar there and moves to his chest and his stomach and she feels him growl against the skin of her neck at the touch, the vibrations sending shivers over her whole body; she reaches his waistband and her finger fumble on the button of his trousers as he kisses her collarbone.

His fingers circle her wrist suddenly and he moves her hand away from him, gently (as he always is with her, gentle).

“You don’t want-?” she doesn’t know what to say. Me? This? Us?

“I want everything with you, Lina,” he sighs and it’s almost painful sound. “But I cannot take an advantage of this situation. You are – we both are – worried about your future, exhausted and uncertain and I don’t want our first time to happen under such circumstances. You deserve much better.”

There is a part of her that wants to cry again. Sob again and punch someone, because of course he is right.

(It is every single part of her, actually. Every single part wants to cry and sob and punch)

He is right, as he always is. He knows what she needs even when she doesn't know it herself – he always had known. Five years apart did nothing to change that.

Lina traces the lines of Tatum naked torso with her eyes and perhaps it should scare her how familiar it feels. She knows his body, every (almost every. Almost, she reminds herself) scar and every freckle, his flexed muscles and long fingers, she knows his body, even though she grew up getting to know a body of a boy and now her fingers are caressing a body of a man.

She hates how vulnerable she feels and how much she wants to share everything with him. But that's now what she has taught herself, no.

And so, despite the disgusting feeling of tension in her throat, she smirks and asks: "Why do you care about the first time so much?"

Tatum chuckles and makes a show of rolling his eyes (not leaving his position above her, not even now), biting his lower lip deep in his thoughts.

When he looks down at her again, however, his gaze is tender, too tender and intense and Lina has to avert her eyes because surely he can see into her, he can see all that she has done, all that she has caused while he was gone, not there to save her, to take care of her.

"It's not the first time I care about," he speaks softly and any hints of amusement are gone. "It's the first time with you."                                                                    

She almost asks him about his first time – she knows it must have happened after he left. There is the part that is Tatum’s childhood best friend and is simply curious. They shared everything with each other – first crush and first kiss and first platonic love, she knew his and he knew hers. Of course she is curious about his first sex or how many firsts there were, how many people that got to know him in the way she has never gotten.

There is another part of her, a bigger one, she realizes with dread, that hopes he would tell her that he has lost count, that his five years in army were filled with infinite excesses and that he would rather not talk about it – maybe then her deeds would be justified.

She cannot ask him because it’s Tatum and he would ask back.

What would she tell him?

She laughs to herself, a sardonic sound lacking any hint of joy it is supposed to carry.

I have no idea. I am not sure about the first nor about the last time. I cannot count them, I will never be able to count them because I do not remember.

I do not remember.

“Lina,” he whispers, still hovering above her. “Don’t do that. Stay here with me.”

“I-“ she opens her mouth – for what, she doesn’t know. To explain or to apologize?

“We do not have to talk, mahal. We can just lay next to each other until the morning comes, alright?”

Tatum lays down next to her and wraps his arms around her without further questions and as she puts her head on his chest and listens to the steady beat of his heart, she feels calm for the first time in weeks.

“Alright,” she whispers back.

They lay next to each other through the night, listening to each other’s hearts and breathing and Lina thinks that even though they don’t talk, there are novels of conversations exchanged between them that night, written in the softest of sounds they make.

  *** *** ***

Ever since finding out that Tatum is Filipino, I felt this desire in my heart to throw some (nick)names for Lina in his native language here and for him to use them. I can’t see him calling her darling on daily basis, but I can see him muttering it in the language he grew up with when the moment asks for it

galyetas = cookie, biscuit (Tatum’s nickname for Lina since forever)

mahal = darling, sweetheart

 I am not exactly happy with how the ending turned out but it’s not going to get better so you have to suffer through it with me

Thank you for reading!

[tamakissimp]

K.B- here to stay

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Bakugou wasn’t the only captive the league of villains had, you were one too. A captive they took for your quirk; drinking just a drop of your blood could heal any injury. After being rescued, you and Bakugou got separated. But not for long.

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: fem!reader pronouns (used once) kidnapping, blood, knife, fluffy ending, captivity, cursing

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚𝟛𝟡𝟟

request: anon - Hi! I saw requests were open, could you please write a scenario for Bakugou, where during his time kidnapped by the lov, they had another captive. A girl who is his age, but she has been there for a few months. The reason why she is there is because of her quirk. Her blood can heal others, all they need to do is drink some of it, the bigger the injury the more blood. They are saved together but then separated. It’s been two years of no contact when Bakugou goes to recovery girl to find the same girl who was a captive now learning under recovery girl. They hit it off. Hi please?

You're a hallucination his mind made up, Bakugou is sure of it. A bright imagine his mind made up to keep himself from going insane. You're too pure to be in such a shit-filled place as the league's hideout.

Though the chains shackled tightly around your ankles say differently. The bloodstains on the ground scream that you’re here. The various scars and wounds that those villain bastards put on you prove you're real. Your arms gently wrapping around Bakugou's shaking body convince him that you're real.

 You're here, you're real and you're hurt. Hurt because he can't keep those bastard's hands of you. Though you never fret about it.

Bakugou screams his throat raw every moment he can as league members do as much as breath in his direction. Even their muzzles can keep his mouth shut. Though you never say a word when they plunge syringe after syringe into your skin. Tears never roll down your cheeks as they cut your skin up to their liking.

He wonders if you ever were rebellious. If there was a time when you kicked and screamed at the villainous hands reaching towards you. All he knows is your time with him. The times in which you would gently gather the blood seeping from your fresh wounds onto your thumb and stick it into his mouth. The times in which you forced your quirk on him, even if he bit down harshly on your fingers. Just so he could have a chance at recovering before Shigaraki ordered a new wave of pain onto him.

All he knows are the nights - or days, time grows weird when you're kidnapped - when you're running your hands through his hair. The nights at which you promise him that someone will rescue him. Even if no one has tried to do during your imprisonment. You promise him that you will get out here so he can show you the friends he's been telling you about.

"Denki, you'll-you'll love him," he says. His voice cracks. Either from sadness or the amount of screaming he has done today, he doesn't know or care. "He's stupi- I mean, he's kind. A fucking goofball.".

You hum at him as you continue to play with his spiky hair. You like to imagine that it's normally soft. Soft and bouncy. But now it's matted by sweat and crusted bits of blood. That and facts that it hasn't been washed for well over a week.

"And Kirishima," Bakugou continues. He thinks back on the times spent with his friends. Times were they dragged him along to go on stupid adventures. Times were they laughed their ass off for no reason. He hated this times back then but he yearns for them now.

"He's great. He's kind. A-And he's sweet. The type of guy to be everyone's friend. The type of guy....to be a hero.". Tears roll down his cheeks at his words.

A hero. It's hard to imagine himself being one now. He can't even handle being kidnapped by some low life bastards without breaking down.

"I can't wait to meet them," you whisper back. "We'll get spicy pork noodle together, yeah?". Bakugou nods. You'll get out of here, both of you. You're going to get out of here and he's going to take you to a stupid mall to eat some goddamn noodles.

You continue to play with his hair. Running his locks through your fingers while humming subconsciously. The soft movements lul Bakugou into a sleepy state. His body grows warm and his eyes grow droopy. "We'll do that," he whispers before letting his eyes fully close.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Dabi's burning hand wraps around your arm. Red indents in the shape of the pads of his fingers get pushed into your skin. Screams erupt from your throat.

"Don't be so fucking annoying," Shigaraki spits out. You simply shake your head as sobs wreck through your body. Dabi's hands warm up further, excelling boiling point. You scream again.

Dabi's free hand lifts to slap your cheek harshly. The red handprint on your skin makes pride swell up in the bastard's chest. Finally, Dabi's burning hand unwraps itself from your arm.

He lets you curl into yourself, carefully cradling your burned arm. "Just give us some fucking blood," Shigaraki says he as walks away from his place in the shadows.

Dabi steps aside to make room for his boss. Shigaraki slowly crouches down in front of you. You keep your eyes trained on the chains secured tightly around your ankles. Fucking bastard.

Suddenly, four of Shigaraki's cold fingers wrap around your neck, forcing you to look at him. Crazed eyes and cracked skin look back at you. He expected you to beg for forgiveness. For you to fall to your knees and beg for your life. Instead, you stare at him with lifeless eyes.

"You better cooperate with us. You don't want to piss off the end boss," he says. His wobbly voice makes you want to cut his tongue out. Since that isn't an option, you opt for the next best thing; spitting in his voice.

Shigaraki stumbles back a bit like a thick glob of spit runs down his nose, hitting his upper lip. He roughly wipes the spit off his face as you give him a shit-eating grin. "Suck. My. Dick," you say.

Within a second, he has you turned around. Your cheek is planted firmly against the cold, stone wall as your arm is bent in a painful angle. "Crispy, give me a fucking knife," Shigaraki says while making grabby hands towards Dabi.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you here the man behind you shuffle around. Screams rip through your throat as you feel the cold edge of a knife press harshly into your skin. Drops of blood audibly hit the floor. Maybe complying would be easier.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The chair is always the worst. You can't speak to him, you can't help him. All you can do is look at him while he trashes against the restrains. All you can do is long to touch him while a muzzle covers his face.

You cower away in the corner. Any rattling Bakugou's chains make only cause you to curl into yourself more. You wrap your arms around yourself in pseudo protectiveness.

Broken whispers of apologies fall of your tongue along with whimpers. Bakugou's screams are still more than audible even with the thick metal covering his mouth.

He must be scared, of course, he is. He told you about that glob monster that had pushed itself into his throat. Did the muzzle remind him of that? It must have. Otherwise, he would be aggressive, rather than scared.

"I'm sorry," you repeat time and time again. You can't even remember if it was your fault. Though it most likely was, it always is.

It's smart of the league you, you have to give them that. Punishing someone else. Playing mind games like they always do. They could have just roughed you up a bit. Thrown a few punches and left it at that. But punishing Bakugou instead of you, that's fucked up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.". The meaningless words bounce through the room. I'm sorry won't get Bakugou out of that chair. It won't even calm him down. Maybe it'll scare him even further.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Salvation is supposed to taste sweet. It's supposed to feel like drinking a cold glass of water after being lost in a desert. Instead, it left a foul taste on your tongue. It left your body shaking with fear.

The loud explosions and bang going on outside the door make you push your head into Bakugou's chest. His arms are wrapped securely around you.

He wants to fight, God knows how much. He wants to blow off that goddamn door and blast the league's faces off. But he also knows that if he gives in to his reckless impulses, you'll be left by your self. And you don't have an aggressive quirk as he does. Basically meaning, if he leaves you alone now you're fucked.

"It's okay," Bakugou says. His voice is broken and ragged. After days of doing nothing but screaming his vocal cords ultimately took some damage. He winches at the dryness in his throat. "No one's gonna hurt you.".

You nod against him, fisting the fabric of his shirt. Suddenly, the door bangs open. You pull yourself out of Bakugou's grasp. He steps in front of you and shields you behind his broad shoulders. Though his defence drops once he sees the person in the doorway.

"Mister Aizawa," he says. The teacher nods as he quickly walks over to the boy, turning his attention towards the chains linked to his left wrist.

"Who's this?" he asks as he looks over at you. You take a step back from the unknown men, looking at Bakugou like a deer in headlights.

"Y/n, she's been captured too," he gruffs. The raven-haired nods before moving on to loosen your shackles. You subconsciously reach out and grab a hold of Bakugou's hand. He gladly grabs a hold of it, rubbing soothing circles on the top of up.

Once Aizawa is done, he moves away from the two of you and mentions towards the door. "Let's get you, kids, out of here," he says. Bakugou's eyes shoot over to you.  You sent him a reassuring nod.

"Let's go home.".

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Life without you is dull. The sparkle that once lit up Bakugou's life is now gone. He went from relying on you to get him through the day to not seeing you all. Last he saw you, you were both in the hospital getting your wounds treated. He heard whispers that you attend the UA now but he doesn't let himself believe in such rumours only to be disappointed.

His friends had noticed the change, how could they not. Bakugou went from being a hothead to not saying a word to anyone except Kirishima.Being a shut-in was his new thing, instead of being a fireball. He overworked himself in training. He pushed his quirk until his hands were raw and burned.

His aspirations to become a hero has seemed to double. The fact that no one has come to save you for months seemed to fule his dreams to make sure that happened to no one else.

At unholy hours he allowed himself to think of you. He let his mind wander to dark corners as he lays in bed unphased by sleep. The possibility that you had never recovered from your injuries was likely. Maybe you died in the hospital and he's going with his life hoping that fate will miraculously bring you two together.

Those thoughts always seem to spike a place in his heart. All he knew about you was your name. You let him ramble about his life. You took away his pain, his fear and his injuries. All that and he never returned the favour. You had never told him about yourself, your fears or your family. He beats himself up of that. 

He pushes himself in the gym for that. Forces his body beyond breaking point because - in his mind - he deserves it. He deserves all the pain he could never take away from you.

"Hey, Bakugou!" Denki calls out. Bakugou's head perks up for a second. his eyes fall over his electric friends before turning to gaze out the window again.

Denki looks over to Kirishima who gives him an encouraging nod. "Can't you just tell him?" Denki asks. Kirishima shakes his head.

"Nuh-uh, you tell him," He says.

"Tell me what?" Bakugou sneers. Both boys look up at their friend who has suddenly turned his full attention to them. Denki shoots Bakugou an awkward smile.

"They're uh," Kirishima begins. "There's someone at Recovery Girl you might want to see.". Bakugou nerves light up. Could it be you?

He quickly dismisses the possibility. Getting his hopes up will only get him hurt in the long run. Still, though, he quickly pushes himself out of his chair and rushes towards Recovery Girl's office.

The walk is short, two minutes tops. Maybe it's because he's focused or maybe it's because he's powerwalking through UA like a mad man. Who knows.

Muffled voice is audible from behind the door. One voice, in particular, spikes his attention. Without thinking, Bakugou rips the door open. There he sees Recovery Girl standing next to a sitting down Izuku, who broke his arm again. However, another figure is standing beside them.

"Deku?" Izuku says. Bakugou's mind doesn't get the time to catch up as his body rushes itself towards you. His arms wrap around you instinctively as he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Katsuki!" you squeal out as you return his hug. His nerves are on fire and his mind is in overdrive. The feeling of your warmth against his body calms down anxieties he didn't know he had. Your familiar scent fills his nose.

He pulls away slightly to see your face. His calloused palm rests against your cheeks. You melt into his touch. "I thought...". He doesn't have to finish the sentence for you to understand.

"I know," you say. "But I made it. And I'm not going anywhere.". Warmth swells up in Bakugou's chest at the words. Salty tears prick in his eyes though he makes no attempt to wipe them away.

Deku is damned, he's going to cry whenever he likes. If you had asked him a year ago, he would have said that crying makes you weak. Though he knows better now. Emotions don't make you weak. They make you stronger. They make you human.

"I'm going to the UA now. I'm doing a special healer's course," you say. A goofy smile is plastered on your lips as tears start to well up in your eyes as well.

Izuku awkwardly dismisses himself from the room. Though a smile is still present on his lips. It does him well to see how much his childhood friend has changed.

"You're gonna stay here," Bakugou repeats your words. You nod at him. Your hand reaches up to run through his hair. Like you thought his locks are silky smooth. Now unphased by layers of sweat, standing up proudly in high pikes.

"I'm going to stay.".

[mamaspresley]

restore the feeling | rafe cameron

a/n: so i watched “big time adolescence” last night because i’m a whore for pete davidson and honestly i don’t know how tf that inspired this but here you go

word count: 3.1k+

pairing(s): rafe x reader

warning(s): mentions of cheating, angst, a break up, post-sarah’s death but let’s pretend rafe isn’t a murder, some smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

“just go back inside, rafe!”

“what did i do? tell me, y/n!” rafe was yelling as loud as you’d ever heard him yell, throwing his hands in the air as he stared back at you. he had his eyebrows raised, looking on at you like he was expecting you to apologize for his actions. “fucking tell me!”

“friday night, kelce’s house. does that ring any bells, rafe?”

the boy scoffed, giving a laugh of incredulity before shaking his head. he brought his hands to tug at his hair as he had mumbled, “you gotta be fucking kidding me.” rafe looked up at you, his bloodshot eyes meeting yours. “did topper tell you?”

“it doesn’t matter if topper told me,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest. “what matters is that you’re throwing this two year relationship out the window for some quick fuck the one night i couldn’t make it to one of your dumb parties.”

“i didn’t fuck her!” he cried, widening his eyes, and if it weren’t for the fact that you’d seen him do a line only minutes earlier you would’ve sworn your boyfriend was crying due to the red rims of his irises. “who are you gonna believe? your boyfriend of two years, or topper, some guy that you’ve never even liked and only talk to because he’s my friend?”

“right now i’m opting for the last one.”

“you can’t be serious.” rafe let out another laugh, shaking his head as he dropped a hand to his hip, the other pulling at the end of his hair. he took a few steps back, breathing heavily before raising his gaze to the night sky, scoffing. “i can’t do anything right for you,” he said, looking back at you, “can i?”

furrowing your eyebrows, confused as to where the conversation was headed, you asked, “what?”

“you’re never fucking satisfied, are you y/n?” rafe stared at you with expectancy, waiting for you to answer. when you didn’t, rafe gave another sarcastic laugh and continued. “you want the perfect boyfriend, the perfect life. and you got that for a while, but as soon as one little thing falls out of line or there’s some sort of minor inconvenience, you get scared and chicken out.”

softly, ignoring the boy’s claims, you shook your head and mumbled, “you cheated on me, rafe.”

“yeah, i did, y/n!” he’d screamed, and the sudden outburst made you take a singular step back. rafe’s face was beet red, hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “i fucked her, is that what you want to hear? i fucked her because while you were off throwing a fucking pity party, i was dealing with the death of my sister. and i’m sorry that i did it but fuck, you didn’t give a shit about me! i needed you, y/n! my sister died and you decided you didn’t want the extra stress of comforting me, so i fucked her. and i’m sorry. but what the fuck else was i supposed to do?”

you had fallen silent from the moment he began speaking, and you didn’t speak a word until he had given up and was retreating back inside. before he could get more than ten feet away, you shouted, “so we’re done then?”

rafe paused, his body going rigid at your words. he hated to admit it, you knew he did because so did you, but he knew that you’d been done long before that night. for three weeks, your relationship had been over, but neither of you wanted to say it.

and now he had the chance. so he took it.

“yeah.” the words fell past his lips way easier than either of you expected them to. “i guess we’re done.”

***

it was when you rolled over and grabbed your phone off your nightstand, seeing the lack of a good morning text, that you realized this was real. this was actually happening. for the first time in two years, you weren’t rafe’s girlfriend, and you didn’t know what to do.

getting up and ready for the day was probably a good start. after showering and eating breakfast, you got changed, only to realize that the sweater you wanted to wear wasn’t in your closet. or the dirty laundry basket. it was at rafe’s, where most of your belongings were, as well, seeing as you practically lived at your boyfriend’s for the past year — save for the last three weeks.

you felt empty as you brushed your teeth, as you washed your hair and as you poured your cereal. there was a hole in your heart that you knew could only be filled by a certain person, the same person who took residence in your thoughts and who you impatiently awaited a text from all day. it wasn’t for a few more days — four, to be specific — that your phone gave off the long awaited buzz of a text message from him. you had practically lunged at the device once you heard his customized vibration echo off the glass coffee table, and you opened the text immediately.

rafe: you want ur shit or ???

you had frowned, reading the message. it’s not like you expected anything else, really, but the words stung as you read them over and over. did he seriously want you gone that bad? you knew that his hoodie accompanying your closet didn’t bother you too much, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. or maybe you were reading too much into it — but how could you not? he’d been your world for the past two years, and for it all to change so suddenly, you’d be crazy not to be a little heartbroken over his lack of empathy. your shit. he wasn’t even referring to your things with respect. shit. maybe he didn’t care after all.

you: when can i come by and grab it?

your hands shook as you drove the familiar road to his house. fingers gripped tightly around the steering wheel, so tight your knuckles were white by the time you pulled into his driveway. a shaky breath left your parted lips when you put your car in park, and when you made the walk up to his front door. your knuckles ached as you rapped on the door, and you released and squeezed your fingers in both hands before the door swung open.

he looked fine. same slicked back hair, same dull expression with the slightly raised eyebrows, same hoodie and shorts with the sneakers that he bounced on the toes of when he became uncomfortable — which was as soon as he laid eyes on you. because you did not look fine. you looked like shit, and he knew you felt it, too. you were just worse at hiding it.

“hey.” you don’t know why, but when he muttered the singular word, you had the overwhelming urge to punch him straight in the jaw. how could he just say ‘hey’ like everything was okay?

“hi,” you answered through gritted teeth. you watched as rafe swallowed thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he chewed on his lower lip. the boy opened the door wider for you and you stepped inside, ignoring the tears pricking at your eyes when they landed on the portrait hanging from the wall to your left.

“upstairs,” he mumbled, a weak attempt to drag your attention away from the picture, but it worked quite well as you followed him up the spiral staircase. the longer you’d look at that picture, the last family photo they all had together, you knew you were closer and closer to tears. and breaking down in the middle of your ex boyfriend’s house, your sobs inevitably echoing off the walls of the foyer for the rest of the family to hear, was not something you wanted to do at that moment.

“i put your things in a bag,” rafe mumbled, nodding to the old duffel bag sitting in the middle of his floor. it was his old soccer one, his last name and number written on the side. rafe’s bedroom was messy, like it always had been, but it was different this time. like he had purposely avoided cleaning, like he wanted it to be a mess. like he had taken clothes out just to throw them on the floor. you didn’t say anything, just grabbed the duffel bag in silence and slipped it over your shoulder.

“thanks.”

“i’m not sorry, you know,” rafe blurted. you weren’t moving, but if you were, you were sure you’d have stopped in your tracks. his confession was… out of the blue, unprovoked, and it had you catching your breath in your throat as you looked up at him. “like, i am. for sleeping with her. but… you fucked up, too. and i have to tell myself i wasn’t the only reason we broke up. and i realized that—that i want you to know that, too. i needed you to hear me say that.”

you weren’t sure what to say. you’d spent the last four days reflecting, arguing with yourself about the whole situation. what had really happened that night at the party? you’d never know because you weren’t there, but that was really what this whole thing was about. you weren’t there. rafe made an excellent point, which is why you nodded and said, “i know,” because you did know. you knew that part of this was your fault, that you weren’t there for rafe from the moment you’d heard the news of sarah’s wreck because you were too busy mourning yourself. and sure, you had a right to feel grief because you knew the girl, but not nearly as well as rafe did. he’d lost his sister, and you were selfish in the fact that you didn’t even bother to check up on him. you’d gone three whole weeks without speaking to your boyfriend, the hardest three weeks of his life not to mention, so it could be argued that you were the one to blame.

“wait— what do you mean, you know?” rafe’s worrisome tone had you snapping back to reality as you met his glossy eyes. don’t start crying. you hated seeing rafe cry—it made you cry and that was the last thing you wanted right now.

“i’m sorry i fucked up.” your eyes met rafe’s, the unfamiliar white of his eyes contrasting against the usual red of them, and it felt strange but your lips curled into a small, comforting smile. “i love you, rafe.”

“i love you too,” he mumbled, the crease in his eyebrows becoming evident as his gaze dropped to his feet.

the sound of the duffel bag falling to the floor had rafe lifting his eyes back up to yours, and he watched, motionless, as you took a few steps towards the boy before throwing your arms around his neck. he didn’t move, in fact he stood completely frozen, as you buried your face in his neck. it wasn’t until he felt your arms slowly give way that he wrapped his own around your waist, and then you tightened your hold on him reassuringly.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you,” you found yourself whispering as you rested your chin on his shoulder, eyes closed as you felt him hold you securely in a hug that would never fail to give you butterflies.

rafe breathed in through his nose before letting his lips fall over the shell of your ear, whispering, “it’s okay. i just… needed you.”

“i’m here now.”

“i know you are.” one of rafe’s hands slid up your back, finding the back of your neck as you stood down from your tiptoes, letting your hands fall to rest on his shoulders. he stroked your cheek with his thumb lightly, his beautiful blue eyes studying your face. after a moment of drinking you in, rafe leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips — one that you accepted graciously — and then pulled away.

“tell me what you need. time? space?” your hands slid up to the sides of his face, cupping him gently as you darted your eyes between each of his. rafe looked at you, standing up straight and dropping his hands to your waist.

“you already gave me enough time,” he whispered, licking his lips as he furrowed his eyebrows. “i don’t think that would do us any good.”

“tell me what you need, baby.”

“you,” he mumbled, lifting his gaze to meet yours once again, and you nodded before standing on your toes and connecting your lips. rafe, wrapping his arms to fit so perfectly around your waist, deepened the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip before darting his tongue out to run along it. you granted him access, parting your lips as rafe slowly began to walk you backwards until you fell onto his mattress. “i need you so bad, y/n.”

rafe didn’t give you any time to respond, instead pulling your shorts and panties down, along with his own boxers, and sinking into you. the sudden contact, one that you’d been undeniably missing for weeks now, had your stomach in knots and your head falling back.

“fuck,” you gasped, feeling his thick cock fill you up, and you made a mental note to curse the boy later for not working you up beforehand — you could barely fit him anyways, but without foreplay it was a different level of uncomfortable.

“holy shit, you’re so tight.” rafe let out a low groan, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his jaw when he bottomed out, and your nails found home in the skin of his back, underneath his shirt, before scraping down it.

thankfully you quickly became used to his size, and not even a minute had passed before you were close to your orgasm. the lack of sexual contact and the ever growing frustration pent up inside you must’ve really taken a toll — it was the same with rafe, his dick was throbbing, the coil wound tight in his abdomen, ready to snap.

“baby i’m gonna cum,” he said in a string of words, almost incoherently as he moaned, snapping his hips back before burying deeper inside you. “baby, baby please. holy shit.”

one last thrust into you and you were seeing stars, your walls squeezing around him, and rafe pulled out of you quickly before wrapping a hand around his dick and pumping it at a fast pace. his cum shot all over your hoodie and his bedsheets, warm and sticky and inevitably difficult to get out of the fabric, but that was the least of rafe’s problems. you watched as he came, his lips parting and eyes rolling to the back of his head while his hips stuttered. the moans that left his lips were whiny, almost whimpers as he mumbled your name a few times before catching his breath.

once you were both down from your highs, rafe helped pull your bottoms up along with his before standing up and running a hand through his hair. you sat on the edge of his bed and stripped from your hoodie, which was covered in rafe’s cum, and looked up at him. he was out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily and his face was flushed pink. rafe licked his lips, glancing up at you as you stated, “i forgot how much i love it when you cum.”

at your surprising words, rafe raised his eyebrows before laughing a little, one hand on the back of his neck with the other on his hip. neither of you said anything for a while, just stared at each other, before you cleared your throat and stood up, tossing your hoodie in his basket of laundry.

“take one of mine,” he mumbled, nodding to his closet and you made your way over, leafing through the hoodies before finding a particular one, one that you’d been searching for just the other day.

turning around with your favourite sweater in hand, you looked at rafe with a smile and said, “you kept my hoodie?”

rafe became nervous, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his body going rigid as he scoffed, shaking his head. “no. i just, uh, forgot to put it in the bag. you can take that one back. i, um—”

you hung it back up in the closet and took a different one, this one actually being rafe’s, and slipped it over your head. “i think i’ll take this one.” you lifted your hair from out of it, smiling up at him as you adjusted the sleeves.

“always look so good in my clothes,” he mumbled, his eyes graciously dancing over your body. when he met your eyes, which were squinted from the wide smile you sported, rafe let out a sigh. “i’m sorry.”

you nodded, still keeping the smile on your lips. “me too, baby.”

you were halfway down the stairs, the handle of rafe’s old soccer bag hanging from your shoulder, when you heard your name being called. at first you thought it could be rafe again, emerging from his bedroom after he’d previously just told you that he’d call you tomorrow. but it wasn’t rafe, it was wheezie, and she was offering you a smile as she closed her bedroom door and made her way to you.

“hey,” you said, almost as softly as the smile you gave the girl when she made it to the landing of the stairs, where you stood. “how are you doing, little one?”

instead of answering, wheezie threw her arms around you. she held onto you in a tightening hug, like she was afraid to let go, and you had no choice but to return it. you wanted to. you loved wheezie more than life itself.

“i’m sorry,” wheezie mumbled, and you almost wondered if you’d heard her right, before she pulled away to look at you with sympathetic eyes. “i don’t know what he did but you put up with a lot of the things he does so it must be pretty bad.”

you shrugged, leaning one hand back on the railing to steady yourself. “your brother... he messed up. but so did i. relationships are complicated, wheeze. don’t do it.”

the thirteen year old laughed. “rafe is stupid and you deserve better. but i’m a little bit selfish because i’m really glad you settled for him.”

smiling, you raised a hand to cup the younger girl’s cheek. “thanks, wheezie,” you whispered the next part, “i’m not leaving for good. you know your brother can’t survive without me for long.”

“i’ll be surprised if he makes it till you get to your car,” she mumbled, and you let out a giggle as you gave the girl who you called family another hug. as you placed a kiss to the top of her head, wheezie squeezed you tight. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, little one.” you pulled away, looking down at her with raised eyebrows. “keep an eye on him for me.”

she nodded and that was all you needed before walking down the rest of the stairs and heading out to your car. once you got in, throwing the bag in the back and fastening your seatbelt, you glanced back up at the familiar house.

just like you told wheezie — you weren’t leaving for good. you both just needed to figure some things out.

***

tags: @outrbank @starkeymarkey @everydayimfangirling @maaybanks @dontjinx-it @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @thelocalpogue @popcsheyward @heimdoodle @yelyahryan @trashmouthpogues @teenwaywardasgardian @beckester @hopelesswritingxd @vindictive-hearts @majoroof @write-from-the-heart @oxmaddy @curlybrownhairedboys @mcarignan @bxmaaa @hoewkeye @alwaysasadaesthetic @thatshiscigar @drewstarkeyobx @fanficscuziranout @koufaxx @beatement-l @copper-boom @fangirlvoice @sunwardsss @peachesnpisces @sydneyf1231 @obxjj @angvelics @lovingxjj @decap-quadrant @jayjaymaebank @maybankiara @starlightstarkey @dannii-li @stargazingstarkey @drewsephsmiles @jjbabyouterbanks @digniteas @alexandra8484 @wonderwoman292 @aheadfullofskies

[slafkovskys]

how could i forget / a. turcotte

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my masterlist!

title from 3:15 by bazzi

warning: implied sexual content and a lot of f-bombs 

-

you were staring out of the window, watching as the white flakes fell from the sky. it was the first snow of the year. you smile, remembering last year's first snowfall and the year before that. so many memories made during this normal, michigan occurrence.

memories you could never forget with a person who sometimes you wished that you could.

“hey, y/n?” cassidy calls, causing you to turn around. she’s got her backpack thrown across her shoulders and a blanket tucked under her arm, “i’m heading out. i should be back by sunday.”

“okay. be careful,” you wrap your arms around your roommate, “text me when you get there and tell mary i miss her.”

cassidy shakes her head, “she’ll make you cookies and tell me i can’t have any.”

you both share a smile before she walks out of your dorm, you follow to lock the door behind her. while she was going home for the weekend, you had no plans of leaving. your plans included bundling up under the covers and attempting to finish any work that you hadn’t already so that you could have the weekend off to just relax.

you see your phone light up from where it was charging on your desk, so you walk over to see who’s calling. there’s no name, only a number, but you only knew one person from illinois.

it made your heart stop.

you watch it ring, unable to move and secretly hoping that once they hear your voicemail they’ll realize that they’ve got the wrong number. the screen goes black for only a second before it lights up again with the same number. the same dimpled grin still haunting your mind.

you answer the call, pressing the phone to your ear. he’s talking to someone else, but he stops when you speak, “hello?”

he’s quiet at first and then, “it’s snowing.”

“how do you know that?” you ask, going back over to the window. you watch as a girl almost loses her footing on the sidewalk because of how slick it had become. her friend laughs, you don’t. “why do you know that?”

“i’m here, y/n,” he says and you take a sharp breath.

“where exactly is ‘here’ alex?” you bite your lip.

“michigan. plymouth specifically,” you’re silent, unsure of what to say. what could you say? he hadn’t been this close in almost a year. you hadn’t wanted him this close in almost a year. “are you in lansing?”

“where else would i be in the middle of the semester?” your statement is filled with venom reserved only for him and he winces.

“can i come see you?” you go quiet again. “i know that you hate me and i’m the last person that you want to look at right now, but i leave tomorrow. i leave for germany tomorrow and i can’t go without seeing you. saying goodbye to you.”

“why now?” you whisper. “you haven’t called me for a year and now- now you want to see me because you’re getting shipped off to europe for a few months? who the fuck do you think you are alex?”

“baby,” he whispers, voice shaking, “i know that i’m an asshole. i promise you that i tell myself every day, but please. please let me come and see you so i can try and fix it.”

“you can’t fix it, alex,” you say, voice cracking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. he sighs and you ball your hand into a fist as the next words tumble out of your mouth, “be careful. the roads are already icy. text me when you’re outside so that i can let you in.”

“i love you,” he says. you don’t believe him.

you hang up the phone and throw it on your bed, grabbing a pillow to cover your face as you let out a frustrated scream. it was full of everything that you’d been holding in for a year. the pain of losing him. the thoughts of not knowing what you had done wrong. wondering what you could have done to make him stay. yet here you were, letting him stroll back into your life after you had worked so hard to erase him from it.

it was closure, you told yourself as you grabbed your things to go and shower.

it was closure, you told yourself as you pulled a dress from your closet before shoving it back in and grabbing leggings instead.

it was closure, you told yourself as you put on your slippers to go downstairs and let him in two hours later.

there he was, standing outside of the door with his hand shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants and his hood pulled over his head. he looks up as you push open the door and slips inside, “thank you.”

silently, you turn around and walk back up the stairs to your dorm with him following closely behind. you swallow the lump in your throat as you unlocked the door, letting you both inside. you walk over to the window while he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room.

you lean forward to look out, “germany, huh?”

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his head, “are you- are you mad?”

“am i mad that you’re leaving or am i mad that you just ghosted me out of nowhere?” you ask, finally turning to face him. his hands are shoved back in his pockets but he’s looking straight at you. “because i’m not mad that you’re going. how could i be? i’m mad i had to fucking find out from instagram and not you. i’m fucking mad because you just left me with no explanation. i’m fucking mad-”

your voice breaks.

he moves forward almost timidly, ready for you to tell him to back away. you hold your hand out for him and let you pull him into his chest. you sob into the fabric of his sweatshirt while he runs a hand through your hair, “you don’t know how bad i feel-”

“then why’d you do it?” you ask, face still smothered in his chest. “we talked about la. we talked about getting a house. we talked about kids. did that mean nothing to you?”

“it meant everything to me,” he assured, pulling you back and placing his hands on your cheeks. they were warm from his pockets. “i got scared.”

“of what?”

“i got scared that you wouldn’t want me. after i got drafted, that night when we were in bed, we talked about life, the future, our future, and why would you want to stay with me? you knew i was going to sign after one year and then i’d be gone. i didn’t want to hold you back.”

“what the fuck?” you breath out. “that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard you say and i’ve taken care of you when you were drunk, alex turcotte.”

he flinches.

“no, i’m sorry. that was harsh,” you shake your head and wrap your hand around his wrist, feeling his heart beating rapidly against your fingers. “if i didn’t want you, to be with you, i wouldn’t have been alex. i loved you so fucking much. i would’ve waited four years or however many it took for us to be together. i’m sorry that i made you feel like i wouldn’t have.”

“wouldn’t?” he asked.

“you can’t be serious,” you pull away from his arms then, “you ignored me alex. you changed your fucking phone number and then come strolling back in and expect everything to be the same as it was before you left. a year ago, i would’ve gone with you anywhere, but now? i wouldn’t walk down the street with you.”

he sighs, dropping down onto the futon pressed against the wall and burying his face in his hands. you lean against your bed and stare at the wall of pictures above him.

“would you let me make it up to you?” he asks, voice muffled by his hands. “can i have a second chance?”

“did you not hear anything that i just said?”

“i heard every single thing that you just said, y/n. you might as well have just punched me in my fucking stomach,” he says, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes. “i know that i’ve got no right to be here. i’ve got no right to ask you to forgive me right now. i’ve got no right to ask for you back. all i’m asking, though, is for one more chance. one more chance and i swear on my career that it will not be something that you regret.”

“please do not stake your career on me, alex,” you sigh, pulling on the ends of your sleeves, “and what if i say no?”

“then i’ll leave you alone,” he promises. “i will get on my plane in the morning and you will never hear from me again. you can move on with your life.”

“i’ve been trying for a year, to move on that is, but you’re fucking everywhere. you’re too good,” you laugh and he chuckles.

“you’re too good for me,” he says and you nod.

“you really fucked me up,” you say, looking down at the floor. your slipper covered feet shift back and forth, “and you know that you did. i can tell. i’m not gonna let you do it again.”

he sighs as he looks to the ground.

“if you’re thinking about leaving, will you just tell me next time? i don’t want to go through that again.”

his head shoots up, “what do you mean?”

“i’m asking you to just talk to me this time. let it end mutually and not with you moving across state lines and changing your phone number,” you shrug, “i also mean that i’m going to get so much shit from cassidy for giving you another chance.”

you can see it all click in his head. he shoots up from the futon and crashes into you, spinning you in a circle before resting his forehead against yours. his eyes flicker down to your lips, “will you let me?”

and you did.

you let him take you apart and put you back together just like you used to. he was gentle, holding your hand and telling you how sorry he was. how much he regretted everything and how much he loved you. how he would never do it again.

it was much later when everyone else on your floor was asleep but you were wide awake. you crane your neck upwards to look at him, “what are you thinking about?”

“about how you’re the person making me not want to get on that flight tomorrow morning,” he answers, fingers trailing along your side.

you shake your head, giggling softly, “if you think that i won’t drive you to the airport myself and put you on that plane, then you really don’t know me at all.”

he smiles, “i’m gonna miss that.”

“what?” you raise an eyebrow.

“your laugh,” he sighs, pulling you closer. you wrap an arm around his bicep, “one day, i promise you, i’m buying you a one way to wherever the fuck i am.”

“don’t make promises that you can’t keep,” you mumble and he makes a noise of objection. “you’ve done it before. you just left and forgot about us. there are other girls out there alex. i don’t know why they’re so hung up on me.”

“i can’t forget us. i’ll never forget us,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours gently. “you especially. you loved me before i went round one. those girls, they see the contract and want me. you couldn’t care less if i played hockey or not.”

“but if you didn’t play hockey we wouldn’t have met,” you wage and he hums. “there’s really girls that are like that?”

“not you. you’re different,” he grins, “do you want to know why?”

“why can’t you forget me alex?” you thumb at his cheek.

“because you’re so fucking money baby,” he teases just like he used to because he knew that he hated it. you try and shove him away but he won’t let you, “no. you’re mine for a few more hours.”

“well try and sleep then. i have a class and you have a flight in the morning.”

it was hard walking him downstairs the next morning. it seemed like you were there for hours holding onto him beside his car. last time you let him go, you didn't see him for a year. he called you as soon as he pulled away from campus and you were on the phone with him his entire drive back to plymouth. you only hung up when he had to go through airport security and couldn’t talk anymore.

a few hours later, you were sitting in your eleven am when your phone lit up from the edge of the table.

i’ll be back soon

you’re so money and don’t let anyone tell you different

i love you forever

[respectablesentiment]

Her arm itches, a deep graze stretching from her elbow to her wrist and smarting in a way that makes Ellie examine it closely, as though she may be bitten. She wasn’t though. Riley had saved her and she didn’t save Riley. It was a blur after that. -- prompt: family, day 4 of elliedina week Ellie's mother doesn't die but Ellie still grows up alone. Ellie was never bitten but she still goes on a journey. Alternative Universe where I ignore two specific parts of canon.

(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble)

or you can read it here: 

Warmth

Family is a complicated word until it isn’t.

She’s never known it until she does.

--

Marlene is the one who finds her after Riley.

Ellie is a bundle of raw nerves, cheeks stained with tears and speckled with blood. She doesn’t think she has anything left to give.

It was meant to be a special night and for a blissful moment it was.

And then it wasn’t.

Riley had been bitten. She saved Ellie’s life and Ellie wasn’t able to save hers.

Riley was her best friend, her person, her something. Her someone with one foot out the door who just agreed to stay.

And now it would be Ellie clinging to Marlene, considering pledging to the Fireflies in her place because one more moment in Boston would make her heart hurt too much.

There must be something extra special in the air, perhaps a shared sense of mourning or grief, maybe Marlene had been more attached to Riley or Ellie than she let on, but she shares something new with Ellie. She knows her mother, a Firefly who was stationed in a lab out west. Still alive.

Ellie isn’t sure if its rage or tears building inside of her, too exhausted to form words or find her way through her emotions.

Mothers were meant to protect and hers clearly hadn’t.

Abandonment was hard to rationalise, but it felt very much like her grief was due to her mother and if she’d never known Riley then Riley would’ve never known her. They’d both be fine and Riley would be alive and her chest wouldn’t hurt like this.

The realisation couldn’t have been recent, it didn’t make sense that Marlene hadn’t told her before. She admits to keeping tabs on Ellie but doesn’t specify why she stayed away.

The offer to journey west with Marlene feels like a form of salvation. She had considered returning to the military school but couldn’t go through with it.

Her arm itches, a deep graze stretching from her elbow to her wrist and smarting in a way that makes Ellie examine it closely, as though she may be bitten. She wasn’t though. Riley had saved her and she didn’t save Riley.

She had cycled rapidly through the first four stages of grief without ever touching acceptance, pacing and screaming and crying for hours. Riley sat resigned in a corner, staring at the gun in her lap as sweat began to build on her brow.

She gave Ellie the gun for protection, kissed her one last time and asked her to walk away.

It was a blur after that.

Marlene gets hurt, Ellie gets lumped with two smugglers and the Capitol building is full of dead Fireflies.

Ellie is fairly certain that either Joel or Tess used to a be parent. Potentially both. Potentially together? She isn’t sure. She overhears bits and pieces of hushed conversations, arguments about how far they are taking her and whether its worth finding the Fireflies and her mother.

Ellie isn’t entirely sure to be honest, the road is gruelling but she’s moving somewhere. Forward, onwards. It’s not like she can move back, and its not like she can stay with Joel or Tess. So onwards it is.

Bill’s town is a shit hole, Pittsburgh is a nightmare, and the suburbs outside of Pittsburgh sends her spiralling. Did Riley turn that way? Fall asleep and wake into oblivion? Was Riley still in there?

Her last conversation with Sam loops over and over in her brain, interrupted occasionally by Tess checking in. Asking and caring in a way that Ellie doesn’t deserve.

“Joel doesn’t handle grief well,” Tess says openly.

Ellie’s eyes flick over to watch Joel ahead of them.

“He pushes it down and refuses to speak about it, but you don’t have to do that,” Tess says, squeezing Ellie in a side hug as they walk. “I’m here whenever you need to speak, or whenever you wanna be silent.”

Ellie nods along but keeps it inside.  

Joel shows care differently. He’s gruff and matter of fact and if there’s nothing that needs to be said then he says nothing. It takes Ellie a while to pick up on it because he’s Joel but he always makes sure she eats enough, that she’s between him and Tess, and he makes her put on a jacket when the weather changes.

The first time they meet Tommy is a turning point. They have power and a town and its nothing like the Boston QZ. Or Bill’s town. Or Pittsburgh.

It’s tempting.

Why rush after an unknown entity? A mother in the distance who abandoned her? Who she’d never known? Would their shared blood just make things click? The destination, the conclusion, the end. And what then? Would they get along?

Would Tess and Joel leave?

They wouldn’t stay.

Would Ellie stay?

Ellie’s lost in thought when the attack happens. Tess is immediately on her, making her crouch down under a table as Maria guards the door.

It happens and then it’s over.

They stay one night in Jackson and then they continue.

Ellie tries to call things off. It seems like a safe place to stay, Tommy and Maria said they could come back if the university labs in Eastern Colorado didn’t pan out.

“We’ve come this far, Ellie,” Joel says resolutely.

“You should be with your family, Ellie,” Tess affirms. “It’s rare to have that in this world.”

Ellie clenches her jaw. She’s never known family, never felt it… so how would she know?

“We should at least go to this university.”

And so they do.

It’s another bust.

In a long string of bad luck, nothing changes.

The buildings are deserted, there’s some fucked up infected monkeys, a dead scientist and another location to trek to.

And then there’s FEDRA soldiers.

She’s never been more thankful for Tess in her life.

“There’s three in the building across from us, they’ll head this way soon,” Tess says curtly. “Let’s head two rooms back, wait for them in the hallway. Gunfire will bring more so we’ll hold our positions. Agreed?” Her voice is gruff, almost an imitation of Joel’s and despite the adrenaline rushing through Ellie’s veins, Ellie smiles.

Times moves slowly, the gun is Ellie’s hand is solid and she’s got five bullets which is more than normal so she feels confident.

The soldiers slowly drop.

They wait five minutes at each floor, slowly advancing forward.

Joel bounces his knee as they hide, and Tess divides her time between scanning the entryways and windows and glaring at Joel to ensure he plays by her rules.

They escape relatively unscathed. Joel is bleeding from the temple, his face a mess of red that Tess reassures Ellie is fine. Tess has a bullet graze on her upper arm, a worn grey bandage tied haphazardly over it to stop the blood flow but Ellie thinks it might just make the wound infected. Ellie’s tired, shallow cuts and grazes line her right side from falling onto shattered glass, her head is pounding and she’s over it.

She cries that night. Feeling alone and scared and stupid.

Family is dumb and overrated.

It’s clearly not for her.

Her mother had decided long again.

If her mother didn’t want her then she didn’t want her mother.

She curls into a ball in her sleeping bag, safe elsewhere but feeling unsafe. She presses her fists to her eyes as though it’ll stop her tears and she just shakes, her body wracked with sobs.

A warm hand falls on her back. It’s large and solid and just resting there.

She knows its Joel but can’t bear to look at him.

Tess strokes her hair where it meets the nape of her neck, and Ellie wants to sink into the ground just as much as she doesn’t want them to stop.

She doesn’t speak and neither do they.

--

From where they are in eastern Colorado, Jackson is northwest, and Salt Lake City is west. Its only a few days travel from Salt Lake City to Jackson on horseback. Tess takes the time the following morning to show Ellie on a map.

“If we’re heading back that way anyway, then it’s worth it to check,” Tess tells Ellie, tracing the route they’d take and informing her of their decision more than anything else.

“It’s not worth anything,” Ellie replies, scuffing her shoes on the ground.

“It’s your mum,” Joel says simply.

“Has someone told her that?” Ellie mutters.

Joel and Tess both grimace, sharing a look. Ellie knows family is complicated, she’s been told this and now she’s experiencing it.

“Ellie, she’s your-”

The rage bubbles up inside her before she can stop it. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has either died or left me,” Ellie says with a raised voice, her hands shaking jerkily in front of her. She’s tense and full of energy and she wants to punch something. She can feel tears coming and her throat is dry and it’s too much.

“Ellie-”

“So why should I run after someone who’s already left me?” Ellie yells. “Why should it be this hard? Why do we have to risk this much? Why do you have to risk anything at all?”

They say nothing. Ellie can see pity in their eyes, and before she can stop herself, she punches a tree.

It doesn’t make her feel better.

Joel bandages her hand, three of her knuckles split. He’s gentler than she’s ever seen him and it makes her feel small for some reason.

“Kiddo, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Joel says in a low tone. “You can- You can choose, it should be your choice.”

“It can’t be for nothing,” Ellie says bitterly, emotions swirling inside of her.

“If it doesn’t work,” Tess says, patting Ellie’s knee. “Then you don’t have to stay.”

“Where else can I go?” Ellie asks, squeezing her eyes shut, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“There’s always Jackson,” Tess offers.

“But- I-”

“With us,” Joel says awkwardly. “If- if you wanted.”

Ellie’s throat is tight.

“I could teach you how to play guitar,” he offers. “I reckon you’d like that.”

“Maybe,” Ellie says softly.

And they continue on.

The journey from Colorado to Salt Lake City isn’t an easy one. Nothing was ever easy.

The weather gets colder which makes it harder to navigate, harder to find food, and harder to sleep.

She feels more as they get closer. More scared, more nervous, more anxious.

Just more.

She struggles to make sense of it, not sure what she’s looking for or what they’ll find. What she’s already found.

They’re on form. Heading through a bus depot, exiting the last highway and clearing through an underground tunnel.

They’re almost there and then there’s rushing water and straining lungs and darkness.

--

Ellie wakes in a hospital with a stranger beside her bed.

The woman’s eyes are green, her expression is soft, and she tuts over Ellie sitting up too early.

“Easy, easy,” the strangers says, hands reaching out to help Ellie sits up.

Ellie’s body freezes, jerking away from her. “Where are Joel and Tess?”

“I asked them to give us some time alone,” the woman says. “I’m your- I’m Anna.”

Ellie takes her in with wide eyes, waking into an anticipated moment was hard to process. “Can- where’s- I don’t-”

Anna hushes her and draws Ellie into a tight hug that she doesn’t relax into.

Meeting Anna doesn’t make things easier for Ellie.

There’s a sense of warmth there, honey in Anna’s voice, a soft touch and an excited expression.

Anna rushes through excuses, building a narrative of a complicated birth, a missing father and a sense of duty to the Firefly cause. She didn’t want Ellie to come out here, she was safer in a QZ until her mother had figured out the cure she’d devoted her life to. Her words are sure and well-spoken, she pauses in places like she anticipates Ellie reassuring her, and then she continues painting her picture of abandoning Ellie for noble reasons.

Ellie nods along.

It ticks so many boxes, but something is off and Ellie cannot place it. There’s a hardness behind Anna’s eyes, something she’s sometimes seen in her own, and it feels off.

“Do you have any questions, my love?” Anna asks, tone saccharine.

“Where’s- where’s Joel and Tess?” Ellie asks awkwardly.

Anna’s smile turns a little bitter at her words but she takes Ellie to them nonetheless.

“We’ve got it from here,” Marlene says, her voice is muffled but Ellie picks up the words as they approach. “You can take the guns as agreed.”

“We’re not leaving without checking on her,” Tess’s voice says firmly.

Anna’s steps turn heavy, as though to announce her approach.

Marlene changes the conversation quickly as they enter.

“Ellie!”

Ellie throws herself at Tess, initiating a hug for the first time in their long journey. She clings to her, relaxing in the safety of her arms.

“It’s good to see you up, kiddo,” Joel says, a protective hand on Ellie’s shoulder.

She hugs him as well, relieved to be reunited and to see Joel in one piece after the tunnels.

“You’re welcome to stay for a couple of days,” Marlene says curtly.

It’s clear she doesn’t mean it.

Joel and Tess stay anyway.

--

Anna is involved in testing to find a ‘cure’ for the infection. She works with some doctor. Talks about how she used to be a nurse and had diversified her skills over the last 14 years in immunology, pathology and mycology.

Anna seems to want to share everything, tell Ellie everything and nothing, unable to sit in the silence that Ellie offers.

Ellie doesn’t particularly care, too focused on the way that the Fireflies hover over Joel and Tess like they aren’t allowed to go to certain parts of their hospital or their base. The way that whispers cease when she turns a corner, the blood splatter on doctor’s coats, and the weird feeling that Infected are nearby.

It feels off.

There’s something out of place.

It doesn’t take long to click.

Or at least, it doesn’t take Ellie long to venture where she’s not allowed to go. She uses every trick Joel and Tess taught her about being stealthy, sneaking passed Fireflies to reach the upper floors of the hospital in the middle of the night.

There’s Infected in cages. Dozens of them.

She supposes it makes sense if you’re studying immunology to find a vaccine.

Cages are marked with numbers and dates.

#259, vaccine 23, injected: 20/04/34, infected: 21/04/34, turned: 22/04/34

#260, vaccine 23, injected: 20/04/34, infected: 21/04/34, turned: 23/04/34

Her eyes linger on the dates, only days prior, comparing those around her.

Someone passes the room she’s in, footsteps audible between the groaning of the Infected and Ellie is terrified.

She hides under a desk, flashlight off, in the total darkness of a room filled with nightmares.

Once she’s certain they are gone, she gets up, hands shaky as she searches through paperwork.

It confirms what she thinks.

She drops the notebook in shock, the sound alerting several of the runners. Within seconds they are snarling, baring their teeth, and pounding on the doors of their cages.

They’re locked away and yet she’s never been more terrified, stuck in place and trembling.

She hears guards shouting, footsteps rushing closer.

The room is flooded with light when they arrive, and Ellie finally moves. She rushes forward, ducking passed them in the doorway.

She runs and she doesn’t stop.

They don’t shoot and they don’t chase her.

--

She finds comfort when she finds Joel and Tess. Too overwhelmed and too worked up to be able to explain what she saw and what she now knows.

Her mother is experimenting on humans to find a cure.

Injecting them with a trial vaccine, infecting them with the virus, studying them as they turn, and then dissecting them.  

Hundreds.

#260.

The knock at the door that goes ignored so Marlene and Anna enter anyway.

Joel stands in front of them, partially shielding Ellie and Tess from view.

“What can I help you with?” Joel asks, crossing his arms. His tone is serious and its impossible to tell that Ellie has shared nothing with him.

“I just wanted to explain what Ellie saw,” Anna says, holding her hands up. “Sometimes sacrifice is needed for the greater good, I’m sure you understand that.”

Tess stiffens against Ellie, holding her tighter. “Are you okay?” She whispers in Ellie’s ear.

Ellie nods but she’s uncertain, she pulls away to watch, eyes studying Anna.

“In order to create a vaccine,” Anna continues. “There’s a need for trials. There are- we’ve had-” She falters, clenching her hands into fists by her sides. “Immunology is complex and working tirelessly in order to create a vaccine for animals which do not ordinarily get Infected does not necessarily help to create a vaccine for animals that do.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. “So you test on humans instead?” She offers plainly. “You make up a vaccine, you give it to someone and you infect them and you just take notes as they suffer.”

Anna’s nostrils flare.  

“We’re learning a lot,” Marlene says. “We don’t like it either but it needs to be done.”

“Two hundred and sixty times?” Ellie asks.

Tess swears.

“Where are you finding two hundred and sixty people to experiment on?” Joel says threateningly.

“We have to think about the future,” Anna says coldly.

“You’re monsters,” Ellie snarls.

Anna’s jaw tightens, she shakes her head as though she’s deciding the argument isn’t worth it and she walks away.

“They’re not good people, Joel,” Marlene says, rubbing her eyes. “Most of them are hunters and- and think of how many people we could save if we get this right.”

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Joel tells her. “Please go.”

And Marlene does.

Ellie sits stiffly on the bed, fidgeting with her hands as Joel and Tess talk circles around her.

“Human testing?”

“Hundreds of people.”

“What if they never find a vaccine? How many more will they go through?”

“I always knew the Fireflies were misguided but fuck.”

She zones out, disassociating more than anything else as she thinks about Riley and Sam, about hundreds of Rileys and Sams, about being cold and feverish and knowing what’s coming and not knowing how it would come.

She must fall asleep at some point because she wakes up to Tess stroking her hair and smiling sadly.

Joel and Tess have packed and they’re ready to leave.

It takes Ellie several sluggish moments, heartbroken and half asleep, to register than they mean to take her too.

“Really?” Ellie asks.

“Of course,” Tess says, like its nothing.

“We’re family,” Joel says, like its everything.

--

Ellie leaves with them.

Anna doesn’t really say goodbye and neither does Ellie.

It had felt like Anna was trying to build something between them, but she was really pretending something was already there. But there was nothing. No spark, no connection, no meaning. The journey had been worthless.

Ellie shouldn’t have run after someone who already left her.

Family was both complicated and simple.

Out of reach and sneaking up on her.

Her mother was nothing and no one, and the smugglers were now something and someone.

--

“It’s kinda pretty, ain’t it?” Joel says, gesturing to the snow-capped mountains surrounding them.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous in Spring, Texas,” Tess grins, helping Ellie over a fence. “This whole area is covered in wildflowers.”

They’re on the outskirts of Jackson, almost back to where they were months previously. Months of danger and sleeplessness and darkness.

Risks and close calls.

For nothing.

“Sarah and I used to take hikes like this all the time,” Joel says easily. “I reckon the two of you would’ve been friends.”

Ellie nods along, thoughts elsewhere.

“Just a little bit further now,” Tess says eagerly, giving Ellie a boost onto a higher bit of ground.

Joel lends a hand to stabilise her and then pulls up Tess.

“Hey, wait,” Ellie says, looking out toward Jackson and then down at her hands. She sighs as she tries to find her words. “I’ve been meaning to tell you but, back in Boston… before I left, I was- I was somewhere I shouldn’t be with my friend. My best friend. She got bit and we didn’t know what to do so we tried to wait it out and she made me leave before she turned.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” Tess says quietly. “I know how hard that can be.”

“Do you think they-” Ellie rubs the back of her neck. “Do you think they’re still inside? Like they’re stuck?”

“No. No, Ellie I don’t,” Tess says. “I think they’ve moved on. They’re at peace.”

Joel is silent and awkward, but his eyes are kind.

“I’m sorry we went all that way for nothing, I-” Ellie falters, biting her lip. “You both risked so much and I don’t think I could have handled someone else dying or- or turning because of me.”

“Your friend’s death wasn’t your fault,” Tess says.

“I feel like it should have been me and not her,” Ellie admits.

“Ellie, I’ve struggled a long time with surviving,” Joel says. “But no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

Ellie fidgets with her fingers, scratching at her arm. “I just-” She huffs. “I just feel like we fought through all of that for nothing. We came all this way and for what?”

“For you,” Joel says plainly.

Ellie tears up, nodding and sniffing and doing her best to keep it together.

Family is a complicated word until it isn’t, she’s never known it until she does, and she feels it constantly in Jackson.

In their meals together, in learning how to play guitar, in movie nights, in sharing books, learning how to swim, and to grow and move forward.

She tells them she loves them on her sixteenth birthday in an abandoned museum.

She tells Tess and Joel she likes girls the day that she decks someone for taunting her about Cat.

She goes hiking with Joel when she and Cat inevitably break up, finding peace in the open air.

She cries on Tess’s shoulder when Dina and Jesse get back together for the third time. A mess of complicated feelings loud in her chest.

Joel helps her practice playing her song for the end of harvest bonfire and Tess helps her pick out a shirt to wear to the town’s winter dance.

“I’m just a girl, not a threat,” Ellie says softly.

“Oh, Ellie, I think they should be terrified of you,” Dina murmurs. Her eyes are bright, she feels warm and perfect in Ellie’s arms, and she steals Ellie’s breath long before she kisses her.

She distantly hears someone calling out, too lost in the tenderness of the moment to register it properly.  

“God, I-” Ellie laughs at herself and her breathlessness, eyes lingering on Dina’s affectionate smile before she kisses Dina again.

Once. Twice. Soundly and enthusiastically.

When she pulls back the second time, she notices Joel and Tess having words with Seth. They look angry and Maria seems to have put herself in the middle, mediating and ushering Seth outside.

Dina’s hand on her cheek makes her refocus.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Dina whispers playfully.

Ellie’s cheeks flush pink, smiling in disbelief, her fingers flexing on Dina’s lower back. “Me too,” Ellie admits shyly.

Dina leans her forehead against Ellie’s again, swaying them together slowly under the twinkling lights.

[marsbutterfly]

*chants*

eren angst

eren angst

eren angst

maybe something along the lines of the reader involuntarily going missing for a while and it scares the shit out of eren ( who has feelings for them )

when they come back, he's partially pissed at them and partially relived. it gets all angsty and he confesses to them.

thanks 💕

Note: This might have been one of my favorite requests  to write so far.  Angst stories have always been my favorite to write about. I hope you enjoy! <3

A Sigh of Relief

Summary: As you go missing during a mission, Eren realizes he might have lost his chance to confess his feelings for you.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

The river’s current gently carries your body towards the center of the forest. Water washes away the blood oozing from your head wound. 

You open your eyes to the now setting sunlight shining directly above you. Slowly, you shift your left arm in a manner where it covers your face.

A loud ringing in your ear blocks the song the birds are singing. With your other arm, you touch the soaking wet gear hanging around your waist. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath. While sliding your fingertips up and down your equipment, you feel a small hole in one of the tanks, a faint smell of gas only confirming your suspicions; There is barely any left.

Looking around for an instant, you realize your blades are nowhere to be found, leaving you completely defenseless against the titans.

A gasp gets caught in your throat as you are reminded of the biggest threat of them all, the monsters who inhabit this forest. You try to sit up, only to be welcomed by a pounding headache.

Placing a hand on your head, you feel the warmth of the blood resting against your fingertips. 

“Maybe it’s for the best if I wait until the sun goes down.” You think to yourself. Truth is you are not certain you have the necessary strength to stand up. So you simply allow yourself to give in to exhaustion and fall asleep right there, against the running water.

.

As the cold night breeze hits your skin, you open your eyes to the bright moon lighting your surroundings. Your wet clothes bring your body temperature down to roughly 87.5 ˚F and you can feel your fingers becoming more and more rigid.

A small cloud of steam leaves your body as you bring your hands towards your now blue lips, trying your hardest to keep them warm.

After lifting your body weight up with the help of your arms, you wrap yourself around your cloak. A few things go through your head at this moment, but the most prominent one is how to stay calm and assess the situation you find yourself in right now.

You dig deep into your brain to remember what direction the walls would be in. From all your training, you realize you should head north. You drop your broken equipment in an attempt to reduce your weight and make yourself faster.

The next step is looking at the sky and finding the North Star. It doesn’t take you a minute to find it and start walking in the direction it points you.

“I’ll rest during the day and make my way towards the wall during the night.” You think to yourself as your boots splash the water around you. Feeling gentle drops of rain against your skin, you quicken your pace. “Hopefully soon.”

.

“Please, Commander Erwin, I need to find Y/N!” Eren desperately pleads, seconds away from getting on his knees and begging the tall, blond-haired man for the chance to go looking for you.

A heavy sigh leaves his chest as he places his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Eren, but you know no one could possibly survive all this time by themselves outside the walls.”

His green eyes become clouded with the tears he has desperately tried to keep in, but the simple thought of losing you, before he even has the chance to tell you how he feels, is enough to send him into a spiral. 

He runs out of the Commander’s office clutching his chest. His boots clicking against the floor as he tries to get as farther away as he can, but before he could get too far, Mikasa grabs his arm, pulling him into her room.

She looks at him for a few seconds as hiccups erupt from his body faster than he could breathe. The black-haired girl wraps her arms around him, pulling him towards her and hugging him as tightly as she can.

Neither of them has the courage to start a conversation, for they know it would involve talking about feelings they are not ready to accept, but Eren knows it needs to be said.

“Y/N is probably dead.” He whispers against her hair, trying to muffle his voice as much as he can.

“Eren, don’t say that,” Mikasa says, for the first time she can’t find the right words to tell him. Nothing in this world would be able to bring him a sense of peace right now.

“How can I not say it?” He yells while pushing her away, his warm tears flowing down his face as he rushes his hands through his hair. A few seconds pass before his legs give up, bringing his body down to the floor.

Mikasa quietly looks at Armin, who just walked through the door, a heart-broken expression taking over her features. The blonde boy kneels beside his grieving friend, his arm wrapping around Eren’s shoulder.

Sobs erupt from his body for a few minutes before he lets out a pained scream, punching the floor so intensely his knuckles are now covered in his own blood and a few speckles of dirt. He tries to take a deep breath and gather the courage to speak.

“I can’t accept it.” He says quietly, looking down as his tears hit the ground.

Mikasa and Armin share a concerned look, but neither of them says anything, they both simply hug Eren as tightly as they can, trying their best to calm him down. Their efforts were in vain. 

.

As the sun now shines brightly in the sky, you try your best to climb a tree, hoping it will be enough to protect you from the titans in the area as you rest for a few hours.

Sitting on a branch, you take a few breathes, trying to forget about the throbbing pain on the back of your head. Using what little strength you have left, you rip the edge of your cloak and wrap the cloth around the wound.

A subtle grunt escapes your lips as you try to find a comfortable position to rest. Once you close your eyes, your thoughts are taken over by the green-eyed boy who’s always by your side. Before drifting to sleep, you can almost feel his hand touching yours as he brightly smiles at you.

Once the sky turns dark, you continue your path towards the wall, always following the stars above you like a map. 

Every so often, you would run into a bush of fresh, small fruit. Shifting what is left of your cloak around your shoulder and torso, you are able to form an easy-to-carry bag, using it to store what little amount of food you find along the way.

This is your life for the next four days. Running as fast as you could during the night and resting while the sun shined. At times, the possibility of giving up and allowing titans to feed on you doesn’t sound so bad, but the idea of leaving Eren alone in this cruel world is enough to quickly push you forward.

At last, your sacrifice paid off as soon as you see the gates of Wall Rose. Using every ounce of strength you have left, you force your legs to keep running until a Garrison Soldier lay his eyes on you, yelling to his comrades to lower the equipment necessary to pull you up.

Once your feet touch the top of the wall, you finally allow your body to collapse on the floor. Dehydrated and exhibiting clear signs of hypothermia, you close your eyes and drift into a well-deserved night of sleep as a soldier quickly takes you to the doctor’s office.

.

As you wake up, before even opening your eyes, you feel someone’s hand touching yours. Slightly, you shift your fingers trying to figure out who it is without having to check.

A gasp escapes the person sitting beside you and, involuntarily, you widen your eyes and allow all the air in your lungs to come out. His tear-filled, green eyes meet yours as he stands up, quickly wrapping your body in a thigh embrace.

In a desperate attempt to feel close to him, you hug Eren back, placing your head against the left side of his chest as you feel his heartbeat. Warm tears drip from your face onto his shirt, leaving a small stain where they land.

Once he pulls away, you notice how his face has turned a deep shade of red, and his bottom lip quivers as he tries to speak.

“Where were you?” He manages to let out, quieter than a whisper. 

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts and remember as much as you can about what happened to you these past few days.

“I fell off my horse onto the river a minute after Commander Erwin gave the retreat order,” you answer, more tears threatening to fall and you don’t try to stop them. You quietly look at his reaction, but he simply listens to you, tears of his own flowing down his face.

He nods gently, giving you a second to breathe. “It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I do!” You quickly reply, not wanting him to feel like you are keeping this from him. “The river’s current dragged me towards the center of the forest. I woke up in pain and alone.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU GET UP AFTER FALLING?” Eren screams as he backs away from you, hands curled into fists. You shrug away from him, wide eyes noticing the anger taking over his features.

“I hit my head and passed out.” You whisper, looking out of the window purposefully avoiding his gaze. Eren’s hand touches your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. You can see all the pain he is feeling.

“I WAS SO AFRAID!” He yells once again before punching your bedside table with his free hand, a loud bang following closely behind. His body trembles as blood pour from his hand-wound, he’s desperately trying in some way to stop the tears that run down his cheeks, onto his neck.

“Eren, I….” You try to break the silence, but he interrupts.

“I thought I was never going to see you again.” His voice breaks and you feel your heart sink in your chest. You try to grab his hand but he is barely out of your reach.

“I always tell you I’m coming back,” you flash him a smile, trying your best to comfort him from afar. “Why were you so worried?”

“Because I’m in love with you.” He says and, for a second, you can feel your heart stop. You stretch your body as far as you can to pull his arm, your fingers tips barely brushing against his skin but enough for you to pull his body towards you.

In a second, he comes crashing down on you, crushing your lungs, but even though you are in pain, you don’t miss the chance. You find the courage to bring your lips together in a love-filled kiss.

His soft lips against your dry ones feel like heaven on earth. You can feel a smile taking over his features and his tears no longer run down, neither do yours.

After a few seconds, you pull away, gesturing for him to get up, which he quickly obliged.

“I don’t know if you can tell,” you say as you grab his hand, “but I’m in love with you too.”

All the sadness in his eyes is now gone. He quickly sits on the hospital bed, never stopping your fingers from touching. He lets out a long sigh and you arch an eyebrow at him.

“I’m so glad to hear that!” He says, his smile growing bigger by the second.

A giggle escapes your throat as you place your hand on his hair, messing it up with your fingertips. He lets out a laugh of his own before moving your hand.

“Welcome home, Y/N.” He says as he touches his forehead to yours. With your now free hand, you wrap it around his neck pulling him closer.

“I’m glad to be back.” You whisper against his lips before pulling him closer for another kiss, not realizing Mikasa and Armin, who has just entered the room.

As they share a look, your friends quietly walk out of the room, a smile of approval on their lips. 

“Told you he was gonna go for it,” Mikasa says, gently bumping Armin’s ribs with her elbow. The blonde boy laughs and shakes his head.

“Took them long enough.” is all he says as they continue their way down the hall.

In your hospital room, Eren wraps his arms around you. The warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne is enough to lull you to sleep, a smile never leaving your lips as you feel safe for the first time in so long.

From now on, you know you’ll always have Eren to protect you and you’ll make sure to be there to protect him.

[yamithediaperdork]

My little brothers revenge part 3

The next 2 weeks flew by after that, with the only strange thing being that Justin started to have A LOT of close call's with getting to the backroom on time and was leaving a ton of skid marks in his pants, and that Justin had also apparently seen the error in his ways and had asked to try and host a D&D session for Alex and his friends to make up for everything he'd done.

Naturally of course Alex wasn't sure about whether or not to trust Justin, but then the bully had gone out of his way to get permission from their parents for Alex to have all of his friends over while they were gone for the session to happen.

"I just think with how rough he's had it lately, he could use a treat, and it'll be a good bonding experience for us since he's kinda too small to play football with me and the guys." Justin had said, acting sheepish.

After that Alex had dialed back the amount of ex-lax he'd been sneaking into Justin's drink's since he felt just awful about trying to make Justin a diaper boy when he was being so nice.

Of course Ben warned him it could just be a trap and to keep up the treatment (and had asked for pictures of Alex next time he had a uh-oh accident as payment for his words of wisdom) But Alex choice to believe in Justin, a choice he would come to regret.

With their parents gone Saturday morning, most of the day was spent with Alex helping Justin go over the rules for the campaign in the morning, and then hanging out and playing with his friends in the afternoon while Justin went out to hang with Grizz and Rayne.

"Man, hard to believe that Justin is being such a cool guy." Lyle said and winced as they were walking back from the park, having played a game of touch football with some younger kids (and having gotten their butts kicked, which only confirmed Alex's belief he was NOT meant to play the damn game)

"areeee you sure he's on the up and up on this?" Kyle asked, rubbing at his arm where a 5 year old had punched him.

"What? Guys come on, it's the four of US vs. him if he tries anything. we can take him!" Alex said full of misplaced pride and swagger even as he had a slight limp.

"..you realize a group of five year olds just whooped us right?" Max asked, Pausing to spit out more dirt from when he'd been driven into the ground.

"Yeah but there was a equal number of them to us and they were all sneaky like ninjas." Alex said, waving a hand. "Sides, worse case go for the nuts. it's like the weak spot on the death star."

"You've been going to your mom's self defense class again haven't you?" Max asked and chuckled.

"...Maybe." Alex huffed.

"heh, just don't" Lyle started.

"Scream out 'he's got my purse!' this time." Kyle finished and the rest of the losers club laughed while Alex blushed and fumed.

"Guys it was ONE time, let it goooo!"

While the losers club was out and playing their little games, Justin and the boys were getting everything ready for the pampering.

as it turned out the old crib wasn't going to be big enough for even just one of the boys, while the old playpen might of fit two at most though it would be cramped.

Thankfully two solutions provided themselves in this, their darkest hour in the form of finding a old car seat of Justin's that looked big enough to MAYBE hold Alex, and a old high chair that would hold Max for sure.

"So..how are we going to hide ALL of this upstairs? I know Alex and his friends are dorks, but their not stupid." Grizz asked.

"Oh, what if we went and put like sheets over them, and tell them their ghosts!" Rayne suggested eagerly.

"...Rayne buddy why don't you go have a juice box." Justin said, patting the hulking boys back.

"Kay!"

as the muscle bound boy headed up to the fridge for some apple juice, Grizz and Justin exchanged looks.

"Man, he's our friend and everything, but Jesus.. does he eat paint chips or something?" Grizz asked.

"Go ahead and ask him, I'll go and get the bucket to mop you up after he creams you." Justin chuckled. "Ok ok..back to the problem at hand..We could Make get the high chair in the broom closet, and the playpen all folded up in the linen closet. Car seat, I dunno.."

"Yeahhh whole lotta time to waste between getting them pampered and getting them in they're seats." Grizz agreed then added with a blush.. "and I didn't go though all the humiliation of buying 4 packs of those discount diapers just for them to go to waste."

By now Rayne was coming back down the steps with his juice box and smiled and waved a hand.

"heh, Yes Rayne?" Justin asked, waiting for the stupid idea to come out.

"What if like, you have the playpen and stuff all set up down here but hidden behind some stuff and we just send up the gaming area down here. you can claim you wanna set a atmosphere for the game, capture the feeling of going though a dungeon." Rayne said and smiled big time.

"...H-U-H..Man Rayne, you need to drink apple juice more often!" Justin chuckled. "Good idea!"

"nah, then i get the poops." Rayne said but grinned big time.

"..Noted?" Grizz said/asked with a sweat drop.

It was after supper, and with bellies full of Pizza and root beet, the boys made they're way down the dusty (though not as dusty as before) basement, the twins semi hugging each other as the basement's lights only worked in two of the four areas, casting long scary shadows.

Max was mostly ok, though he could of sworn he'd seen something move out of the corner of his eye.

"Uh..Alex,Justin, you guys sure you don't have rats?" he asked, a twinge of worry in his voice.

"Oh yeah, we get checked regularly, Dad's TERRIFIED of them, it's why we can't go to Disney world." Alex said, laughing though he was getting a little bit creeped out being in the basement after dark.

still he wanted to try and support Justin who clearly was making a effort. plenty of large blankets had been rolled out onto the stone floor and a coffee table was set up in the middle, not on the blankets but they were bunched around it.

there were books and note pads and pencils and dice, all the great makings for a table top game and Alex turned to smile at his friends as they took in the site.

coming around the table and looking at the set up, the boys all whistled and Alex smirked at his friends under the pale light of the basement.

"See? I told you guys we could trust Justin!" he beamed.

"heh, Oh?" Justin asked.

"Yeah, the guys were kinda worried you were gonna pull something." Alex said, rubbing the back of his head. "Buttt I knew you were trying ..to.." Alex trailed off as he saw the look on his brothers face.

"Yeahhh about that, maybe listen to your friends next time." Justin advised.

"Whatever! It's four on one Justin, we CAN and WILL kick your butt!" Alex said, balling up his fists and looking over his shoulder to his friends.

The twins and Max nodded back and got ready to fight but Justin didn't look too concerned.

"oh no, Four little dorks who already got their butts kicked by five year olds and they're threatening me. what ever will I do. Oh woe is me." Justin said, putting the back of his hand to his forehead in a dramatic fashion then grinning and snapping his fingers. "Oh wait, I know..Grizz, Rayne, wanna help me get our soon to be slaves dressed and ready for they're new life's of cooking, cleaning and doing homework for us?" Justin said.

two shadows moved out from behind a pile of boxes and indeed there was Justin's buddy's.

"Oh, by the way, feel free to fight back, but anyone who does gets a spanking. if your GOOD little boys, we'll get you dressed with minimal fussing." Justin added.

Alex of course chose to fight, as did Max since he had to have his buddies back.

the two of them lunged at Justin going for a combo knee and groin attack but Justin caught Alex in the air and just hoisted him over his shoulder with Alex's head and arms over his back and yanked down Alex's pants with his free hand and started to slap the boys butt, getting howls of pain from him.

Max meanwhile had gotten his ankle grabbed by Rayne as he went to leap and was tugged back and put under Rayne's beefy arm and much like Alex, pants were yanked down and his butt was slapped, Max howling away as Rayne giggled and gave Justin a silly grin.

"it's like I'm playing the bongo's!" he giggled childishly.

Lyle and Kyle meanwhile had taken inventory of how sore they already were, how big and strong Justin and his friends were and had just stayed put, holding each other hands while Grizz looked down at them and smirked.

"heh, so your gonna be good boys?" Grizz asked.

Both twins nodded then jumped at the sounds coming from their friends.

"H-hey! stop that! They'll-" Lyle started, looking at Alex and Max who's buns where getting red even with their undies protecting them.

"-Be good boys like us! Come on, Please stop?" Kyle finished, wincing and fighting the urge to bury his face in his brothers shoulder.

"Hmm I dunno.. Alex, are you gonna be a good boy or make your widdle friends into liars?" Justin asked, pausing for a second.

Alex of course had been beating on Justin's back, for all the good it had done him and was now stood in front of Justin, tears running down his face and pants around his ankles.

Likewise, Max was set on his feet, though the tears weren't as free flowing and he gave a glare at the Twin's who suddenly found something VERY interesting to look at at the floor so they could avoid eye contract.

"Hey now, none of that Maxie, those two might of just gotten you out of the 5 minutes spanking we had planned." Justin said.

"F-Five Minutes?" Alex whimpered, and put a hand to his sore butt. it already hurt so much from just 30 seconds!!

"well give or take a bout 30 seconds." Justin said and smirked.

a hissing sound was heard and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was, as Alex started to sob heavily as a puddle started to form under him where his accidents wasn't being soaked up by his pants.

"well, I'm gonna count that as a third vow to be a good boy..what do you say Max, wanna make it four for four?" Justin asked.

"Rot in hell! I'll never give in!" Max vowed.

Never as it turned out lasted all of anther 40 seconds then Max had a accident too. Following a quick clean up that would keep the boys from making puddles all the way up the stairs, Justin had Alex and Max take a quick bath together to both boys embarrassment, with Justin supervising to 'keep them out of trouble' while the Twin's mopped up the piddle accidents and got the wet clothes in the wash under the watchful eyes of Rayne and Grizz.

since the cat was out of the bag so to speak Rayne and Grizz had the twins help them bring the supplies for tonight's fun up into the living room, the urine smell in the basement being a big deciding factor.

The twins had a very good idea what was gonna happen as they carried the packs of diapers upstairs for the bullies, as well as a bag of dirty socks.

Well ok, the twins knew what the diapers and baby furniture was for, but the socks stumped them.

"Um..Mister Rayne?" Lyle asked, and held the bag up with one hand, the other being used to hold his nose.

"Hmm? me? Oh I'm just Rayne kiddo. what's up." Rayne said, confused at first but then smiling.

"I think I get most of what your planning, but why the stinky socks?" Lyle asked, looking over as Kyle was being a super good helper and getting the playpen set up, even though the look on his face made it clear he didn't wanna be helping at all.

"Oh the socks are for..are for.." And Rayne trailed off, and rubbed the back of his head, then turned to Grizz. "Hey Grizz, what are the socks for again?"

"We're gonna get the babies who aren't doing homework to wear them on both hands, one hand for the ones who are, and use about 3 socks per hand and tape for make shift baby mitts." Grizz called over.

"Ohhh yeahh..So that." Rayne said and smiled brightly.

"B-But why stinky socks? I don't wanna get athletes foot on my hands!" Lyle whined and whimpered.

"Oh! this part I do 'member! it's cuz you won't be tempted to try and tug'em off with your teeth after those socks have been on me and Justin's and Grizz's feet!" Rayne said, ever so proud of himself that he'd recalled that much.

"I..but..Ewwwww!" Lyle whined and started to cry.

"oh hey hey, look, it's just kinda fair if you think about it!" Rayne said, pulling the smaller boy into a hug.

"H-How so?" Lyle sniffled.

"well we're gonna hafa smell you guys when your blort your diapers. So see? it all works out!"

Somehow not only was this NOT a comfort for the twins, but started Kyle bawling too.

With Alex and Max washed nice and clean, they huffed and pouted as they were marched down stairs in just they're towels and were greeted to the site of of Lyle and Kyle (Aka mentally labeled the traitors in both boys minds) sitting side by side in Alex's old playpen wearing nothing but three pairs of dirty white socks on each hand that were taped up at the wrist with green masking tape and at least 4 pairs of white and pink diapers around their hips.

Finishing the look off as a bib around each twins hip, Lyle had Big bird on his while his brother was rocking cookie monster.

"Heh, nice touch with the bibs!" Justin commented. "I was gonna let them keep their shirts on."

"Well you know, I found a box of them in the basement and thought, why not?" Grizz said.

The twins had tear stains on their cheeks and Justin raised a eyebrow at that.

"Did they have to get spanked too?" He asked.

"Oh nah, just had a little sob feast. kinda shocked it didn't happen sooner. they ARE babies after all." Rayne giggled.

"So what do you have picked out for our two little naughty boys to wear?" Justin asked, chuckling and yanking the towels off of the younger boys who yelped and covered themselves despite the fact that A) they had both already seen everything B) so had Justin and C) they we gonna have to move their hands once they were diapered.

"Well I was thinking something retro, and classy at the same time." Grizz said, taking on a snobbish voice and making the other bullies smirk. "Something that screams 'I'm a big dumb baby slave, but at least I can do homework.' You know, a look for the ages."

"I see I see. Looks like you two little brainiac's get to do our homework while we supervise the good boys. And Don't even THINK of fucking it up. We'll be taking all SORTS of pictures of you dweebs in all your big baby glory and won't be shy about sharing it with your classmates." Justin chuckled and then pointed over to the changing mat's on the floor.

"J-Justin come on, do we HAVE to wear diapers?" Alex tried one last time.

"Alex I'm shocked, don't tell me you WANNA run around in the buff all night!" Justin said.

somehow the boy's blush got worse and along with Max he scrambled over to the changing mat's without further argument.

thickly diapered and one hand in the make shift baby mitts (Left hand for Alex and right hand for Max) and sporting Elmo themed for Max and Oscar the grouch for Alex, the last two of the loser's club was living up to it's name.

Max had been put in a old wooden high chair which even as small and shrimpy as he was was still a tight fit and had the bullies English and Social studies homework out in front of him.

Alex meanwhile had oddly easier been strapped into a old car seat and pulled up to the coffee table and handed the Math and science homework.

"Since when do you even get this much homework over one weekend?" Alex had asked, eyes going wide.

"Oh yeah, we asked for extra homework to make up for our falling grades. our teachers loved we were trying. So again. Don't make us look bad." Justin said and ruffled Alex's hair, making the huffy diapered shrimp squirm and try and get away.

"I can't believe I actually thought you were turning over a new leaf." Alex huffed and sulked.

"Honestly, neither could I, but you just wanted it to be true sooo bad~ Though I'm not without a degree of mercy." Justin chuckled and at that moment Grizz came in and set a baby bottle full of milk on Max's tray, then on in reach of Max.

Meanwhile the twins were being handed one each by Rayne and just took them with some difficulties in both hands and started to drink, they they wrinkled they're noses.

"heh, I guess the socks kinda keep you from fully enjoying the moo juice. Ah well, not my problem. I expect that ba-ba drained in a hour little man, I don't need you getting all dehydrated with all the crying and pissing you've been doing." Justin snickered and after handing Alex his ba-ba, walked away.

For a tiny split second Alex was tempted to grab the bottle and toss it at Justin, but then his common sense kicked in stead and he went to work, pausing every so often to drink the oddly sweet milk.

The twins tummies were starting to hurt as they chugged down they're milk but with the lack of room in the playpen and their stinky sock mitten's they weren't sure if they were gonna be able to pick the bottle back up if they put them down.

Since they had maybe already lost they're friends after betraying them before, they had silently agreed to just try and be the best big babies they could tonight since there was no point in getting a spanking now anyways.

"Sheesh, I guess that sob feast they had really dried them up. Careful little guys you're gonna give yourselves gas bubbles!" Rayne said, looking almost legitimately concerned.

"heh, don't tell me you're going soft on us man." Grizz teased, lightly elbowing Rayne side.

"Huh? no, I just don't wanna have to burp them and risk getting spit up on me."

"..You uh, Know their not REALLY babies right?" Justin asked after a second. "So I don't think that's gonna be a worry."

the mental image of being held in the bullies arms and being burped like a oversized baby wasn't exactly appealing to Kyle who slowed his chugging down but Lyle seemed to speed his up.

"..heh, I think one of them WANTS to be burped!" Grizz said.

Tugging his ba-ba out quick Lyle went to defend himself but in stead let out a massive belch that did kinda make his tummy feel better.

Kyle on the other hand took the other option when it came to gas relief as before anyone could say anything about the burp, a muffled long fart came out of Kyle's behind and the boys eyes went wide as saucers making it clear who had cut the cheese.

"Sheesh, couple of Gas holes over here." Justin laughed then wrinkled his nose, taking a step back. "Ugh, If his FARTS smell this bad.."

"yeahhh Maybe we shouldn't of put all that laxative powder in there." Rayne said, rubbing the back of his head.

With THAT announcement all four boys who had been taking a drink, Lyle having just put his bottle back up to his mouth dropped them and looked at the bullies.

"Rayne, they weren't suppose to know about that." Scolded Justin, then he grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"oh..uh sorry. How can I make it up to you?" Rayne said, while all four of the diapered losers club squirmed and whined in their baby prison's.

"Guess who gets to change all four stinkers himself?" Justin asked.

"Grizz? that's not fair he did- ...OH!...oh." Rayne started to argue, but then his face lit up as he got it, then fell as he got it.

Hearing about how the milk had been tainted, Alex grabbed his and was trying to pry the lid off to dump it out when Justin came over and shook his head.

"Ah ah ah, Bad baby brother! I guess you're gonna have to take a homework break so big brother can bottle feed you." Justin scolded, getting Alex out of the car seat and into his lap while Justin sat on the floor, pressing and rubbing the nipple on Alex's closed mouth.

"Open up little man, it's either you drink your special ba-ba and make 'present's for big brother or I get out the enema kit mom got for dad." Justin said.

Alex's eyes widen and he stared at his brothers face, wondering if Justin would really actually use that horrible looking thing on him..then recalling he was currently dressed like a big baby and opened his mouth.

"Good boy! Guess i could of just made you drink it on your own with that threat..eh, Your kinda cute like this. In a total loser big baby sorta way." Justin snickered.

Alex suckled down fast and hard, just wanting to get it over with and glared at Justin, willing himself to be able to make his asshole of a big brother end up crapping HIMSELF before Alex fudged his huggies.

As the cramps started to build in his tummy, Alex didn't think that was going to happen.

Seeing Alex being bottle fed by his brother and Grizz coming over Max gulped and gave a sheepish smile.

"I..Don't suppose you could just take the nipple off so i can chug this and get it over with huh?" He tried.

"heh, I suppose so. at least then I don't have to worry about burping the nerdy baby." Grizz said and started to unscrew the top. "But just so you know, if you try and just dump it out, I'll be tanning your ass for 5 minutes strait, then just giving you a enema."

Whether it was the threat itself, or the fact Max had loaded up on fluids on the way home he'd never be sure, but the poor boy gasped and whimpered as a hissing was heard and he soaked his diaper.

"Heh, We got our first wet diaper! Man, you must have a hair trigger bladder huh?" Grizz asked, and offered the opened ba-ba to Max. "Bottoms up soggy pants."

Whining softly but knowing he was stuck (in more ways then one with his diaper bloating out in the high chair) Max gave a week smile and drank as fast as he could.

The twins meanwhile had been given new instructions by Rayne who had decided if he was gonna have four sets of poopie diapers to change, he might as well get a cute site first.

The nicest of the three bullies (if only due to his lower IQ) he'd understood when Lyle and Kyle hadn't been abler to get they're ba-ba's picked up between the cramped space and the baby mitt and had picked up their bottle's and handed them to the other.

"Um..Rayne? I-I had more of my ba-ba gone." Kyle said meekly. "This is Lyle's."

"I Know, I want you to bottle feed each other, it'll look so cute!" he said and then with a big of shuffling around got them facing each other. "Your twin brothers so you're both close..So go on, help you brother drink up!" He encouraged them both.

Knowing better then to argue, the Twins shifted around and worked out how to get their arms out of the way of the other then both were drinking up, eyes closed and noses wrinkled from the smell of the socks, and the mini poots that were escaping almost constantly now as they were almost finished their ba-ba's.

As such with they're eyes closed they didn't see that Rayne had grabbed Justin's camera phone (After losing three cells of his own, Rayne wasn't trusted with one anymore.) and snapped a few pictures of the cuteness in front of him, and when they finished he fished them both out of the playpen and had them each put a head over one of his shoulders, apparently having gotten over his stance on burping them.

As they felt the big strong pats on their back and looked at each other over the simple giants shoulder, both twins wet their diapers at the same time but just like how they normally talked, one would burp then the other then the first one, back and forth till Rayne was sure he'd gotten all the gas bubbles out.

The twin's weren't sure how they felt about this, since Clearly Rayne was strong enough to support BOTH of them with just one hand making them feel even smaller then before, though it DID feel good to get all that gas out even if they're tummies were still cramping big time now.

"Feel better little guys?" Rayne asked, smirking.

Lyle started to nod while Kyle went to say something, but that was when the ba-ba's special ingredient kicked in. Both twins stiffened and little gasps came out of their mouths but that was nothing compared to the torrent of muck that poured out of their backside as the pink and white diapers rapidly expanded and even with the slits cut in them it was clear they were rapidly approaching a overflow point.

"Sheesh, that didn't take long." Grizz said, holding his nose.

"Oh man, their fucking toxic!" Justin complained.

between the sick sounding wet farts you could HEARD the diapers crackling as they fought to keep up but it wouldn't be till the diapers were fully loaded that they Twins would snap out of their shocked silence.

Rayne went to say something to comfort them but it was like a shrill alarm going off as both twin once again started wailing and crying, and Rayne winced, his own nose wrinkling.

"Uhh.. Can I just go and hose them off in the back yard?" He semi shouted, trying to be heard over the twins.

"Are you kidding? they'd alert the whole block as to whats going on!" Justin said, gagging a little. "Oh Man..I did NOT think this though..."

"Well what did you expect a dirty diaper was gonna smell like?" Alex huffed, though he was making grossed out faces too, plus knew that was his future."Sun shrine and rainbows?!"

"Also it's WAY too cold out to clean them up outside anyways Rayne, you'll make them sick."Max pointed out

"You two, shut up and get back to work. and Rayne..I know we were gonna make them sit in it but for the sake of everyone noses, change them now....and uh, take them to the basement to do it." Justin huffed.

Rayne nodded and off he went with the little stinkers and Grizz turned to Justin.

"Ahhh.. maybe we'll just use the pictures of them, but let them take dumps in the potty..I mean.. " he was saying, moving to go and open some windows.

"Ngggh, you might be onto something there." Justin said, then noticed Max and Alex exchanging looks and smirking. "..what's with the looks?"

"It seems to me, like the balance of power has shifted." Max said with a evil grin.

"Unless you WANT us unleashing hell in our diapers over and over again, you're gonna knock all of this off now, and hand over the pictures." Alex said smugly.

"Are you REALLY trying to threaten us with stinky diapers?" Grizz asked, half amused half in disbelief.

"If you thought the twin's were stinky they don't hold a candle up to Max, and Justin you know how bad I can be when I'm NOT loaded with ex-lax."

"..Mistakes have been made." Justin groaned, face palming.

"Are you kidding me?! I went though all that embarrassment and blew all that money on diapers and we're gonna cave in now?" Grizz huffed, looking pissed.

Max left out a poot and that fresh tears to the bullies eyes.

"Consider that a preview of whats to come." Max said and gave a evil laugh. "and tick tock guys.. us 'babies' can only hold it for sooo long~"

"Look Grizz, I'm sorry but unless you wanna be the one helping Rayne change diapers." Justin started to say, cut off by Rayne's cry of horror from the basement. "Then the plan failed."

"This is fucking bullshit!" Grizz huffed and then stormed out of the living room, grabbing his jacket.

"Grizz come on! wait!"

"No way man, screw you! I'm going home!" Grizz growled back and took off, slamming the door.

"...Well I hope your happy now!" Justin huffed at the big babies.

"Oh, we will be.. but first.. socks off and let us out of our baby prisons." Alex said, then smirked. "and don't worry, I have a feeling the diapers WON'T be going to waste."

For the first time since this little war had started, Justin felt a pang of worry.

In the aftermath, only the twins ended up messing their diapers and once Rayne found out the plan had fallen though he sulked and huffed and stormed off home too to do the extra class work that no one else was gonna do for him now.

The Pictures were turned over as promised and Justin figured Alex just deleted them, never suspecting that they were kept for blackmail power of a sort later on, and while no one else had a smelly diaper that night, all four boys kept wearing one just in case.

The twins were forgiven by Max and Alex after a bit, mostly due to how traumatized they seemed from having made such big stinkies and having to get cleaned up and had sucked on their thumbs when they weren't playing video games with Max and Alex, though they had conked out hard shortly after.

Justin, as the last bully standing, got the 'honor' of taking the shovel and going out to the trail to 'bury the treasure' and was less then happy when he came back and got told to go to bed and rest up, he was going to need it.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.2)

SUMMARY: reader faces the consequences of interfering with the Agni Kai (emotionally and physically)

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: angst. Torture, semi nudity (NOT sexually) –traumatising!! physical and some mental abuse. Violence. Mentions/descriptions of death. Crying. Swearing. Ozai being a literal nutter. Azula being nutter 2.0.

A/N: THIS IS A REPOST FROM THE AUTHOR OF THIS FIC - I had some complications with the original blog this fic was posted on so please show this some love,, ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS FOR THIS FIC WILL BE POSTED HERE!! hi friends!! Thank you to everyone who showed some love to the first chapter eep! Anyway I’m really scared for y’all to read this one, but!! I’m aiming to have the gaang in the next one so if you hate this I’m sorry but I didn’t want the story to be rushed so I couldn’t bring myself to skip this :// Please read the warnings!!

Also! In this part italics are internalised thoughts 😊

OTHER PARTS:  pt1   /   pt3   /   pt4   /   pt5   /   pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

The Fire Lords command echoed throughout the room, encompassing the crowd in a thick silence.

Zuko let out a small gasp, one only you were able to hear. After experiencing just a fragment of the physical pain he endured, you didn’t want him to make any decisions he would regret, especially if he was considering to defend you. You didn’t deserve it. Burnt, dead skin, blisters across your left side in the hot atmosphere around you. Your heart begins to tighten and rip you apart all at the same time, realising how much pain you caused for taking all of those lives.

Continuing to kneel on the floor of the duelling platform, you’re frozen, filled with disgust as you finally acknowledge the person you became. From your first commission four years ago, you were numbed to the experience of taking someone’s life. Seeing the life fade from someone’s eyes as you plunged your flame lit sword into their chest, you felt nothing. It was as if it were just a switch inside of them, nothing more. One moment they were there, the next they’re not. You recall Zemin’s reaction when you recounted the events of your first kill, and he didn’t make it seem like it mattered. His only response was to scold you for showing off because you didn’t need to light your sword on fire to kill the man.

Managing to push through the new thoughts and emotions that have awoken within you, your mind travels back to the boy behind you. Despite what you’re currently feeling, it will never amount to the emotional pain he has after being attacked by his father. Fire Lord or not.

Continuing to face the floor, you can’t bring yourself to even glance at Zuko, barely managing to croak out, “Forget who I am. Stay alive, that would be enough.”

You feel his stare to the back of your head. You wish you could turn around and say something, anything at all, maybe even hold him. Anything to get rid of the disgusting, vulnerable, and isolating feelings within you. You wanted to tell him he didn’t deserve it, even if you didn’t know who he really was. Because as much as you hated to admit it, you were afraid. So fucking afraid. Zemin never taught you what to do in these situations, especially anything involving saving the Prince’s life.

Unknown to you, Zuko’s right arm cautiously reaches out to take hold to the back of your robes. So close his fingertips graze the fabric, but not close enough. The two nearest guards rushed to grab you while everyone in the crowd stared at your figure on the duelling ground.

With one guard on either side of you, they grabbed your arms and shoved you off the platform. Hissing, and failing to shove down a pathetic sob ripping through your half-burnt throat, you fall onto your hands and knees. A moment later, the guards were back at your side, dragging you through the door you couldn’t bring yourself to walk through minutes earlier.

Freedom feels like a distant, pathetic dream.

You try to take in the palace around you as they drag you to the right. Connecting where you are to the map, you saw last night, becomes increasingly difficult as the prolonged burning sensation on your skin begins to fog your mind. It’s no use keeping your eyes open. The dark colours of the palace give you a headache. You want to pass out. Give up completely. But Zemin didn’t lock you up in a pitch-black, underground labyrinth, for three months when you were eight to learn nothing. Instincts kicking in, you allow your eyes to close and begin to count your movements, listening to your surroundings.

20 steps forward.

Turn left.

15 steps.

Turn right.

You notice the guard to your left has a weaker hold on you than your right. Possibly about of disgust for holding your arm, or maybe to cause less pain. You assume the former.

18 steps.

The guards come to a stop.

You feel the guard to your left, slightly turning her body towards you. “Hey, maybe we should stop for a bit. I think the kid passed out.”

Ah, so maybe the latter as well then.

The guard to the right scoffs at her suggestion. “Don’t worry about it. She’s not completely out yet, she managed to keep moving. Probably just weak from the pain. Stupid kid. We’ve got a long way to go, and the Fire Lord will want her towards the top of the prison.”

Still unconvinced the female guard persists, “Shouldn’t we be taking her to the infirmary? These are really severe burns.”

There’s a pause. Only for a few moments, but enough for them to weigh up their options. “We should, but the Fire Lord would end us if we did that. We’ll just send a healer to the cell after we get her there.”

The guard shakes you, forcing you to open your eyes. Guiding you out of the palace, you squint your eyes as the sun blinds you, eventually able to make out a tall tower-like building before you. Entering the darkness that lies inside it, you struggle to keep up with their pace as they wind their way further and further up the spiral. Making it to a cell, the guard to the right drops you instantly making you crumble to the floor, eliciting a subtle dig to your hip. You’d forgotten all about the dagger strapped around your waist under your robes—the one you used to kill the general.

While the guard is holding your injured arm tugs you back up, you decide to act while one of them is preoccupied. Balancing on your right leg, you swing your left leg around, slamming into the back of their knees, making them fall. You quickly take out the dagger from underneath your robes, flipping it in your hand and using the blunt of the handle to knock her out in the head. The thud to the guards’ head alerts the other ahead of you. By the time they’ve processed what happened, you ran to them, kicking them in the stomach propelling them into the cell they recently managed to open. Running towards them you drop to both of your knees, arching your back as you slide under streams of fire passing above you. Rookie move on their part. Bringing your torso back up, you send a punch to their face knocking them out cold.

You grab the other guard and drag them into the cell as well and swap your robes for their uniform. It’s too large for your adolescent figure, but its good enough. Taking the keys, you lock them both in there, closing the main door on your way out in hopes no one will notice them in there instead of you.

Breath, you still have a long way to go.

With determined strides, you make your way past other guards in the prison, praying to the spirits that for once they’ll be on your side. Following the steps you memorised in your head from earlier, you end up back at the point where they led you from the arena. From this point, you decide to go in the opposite direction to which they took you. To the left.

Stay calm y/n, you’re going to make it.

You find a door leading out of the castle, and you can see the palace gates in the distance.

Holy Spirits! So… I would have made it out in time if I left the Agni Kai… That doesn’t matter anymore, you’re going to make it out now.

Walking out into the open, you force yourself to suppress a scream of pure joy. Time began to slow down as you saw the gates coming closer and closer. So close you started wondering where you’d go once you made it through.

Those thoughts were abandoned when you hear screaming from behind you.

“Close the gates! That guard is the traitor! Don’t let her out, and close the gates!”

No. No, not again. No, no, no! Fuck!

Breaking out in a sprint, you push yourself harder and further than any training exercise Zemin put you through. You let out a painful scream as if it would make you run faster than the guards at the gates, slowly pushing them shut. Nothing could compare to how much you wanted this slice of freedom. After just a few hours of being in the miserable palace, you were convinced you’d rather walk and swim to the Northern Water Tribe without any food or water, than have to spend another moment here. Mind going into overdrive, you don’t seem to hear or even register the fact that there is a group of around twenty guards behind you, ready to take you down.

With an echoing clang, they seal the gates shut. You falter, slowing down as waves of desperation and hopelessness consume you, yet unable to bring yourself to stop completely.

No, please.

One guard managed to catch up to you in your moments of weakness, throwing a strong punch to your head before you have time to react.

WEEK ONE

It had been a week since you were caught (again) and imprisoned in the Fire Nation jail cell and quite frankly, you were bored. After your stunt when you were first brought here, they ensured that you would never have access to any sharp objects, serving food in wooden bowls with only your hands to eat. Bold of them to assume you didn’t know 21 ways to use the bowl if you truly desired to kill them. No one spoke to you, not even the healer who came in wordlessly the first night to treat your burns. You lay on your right side, staring up at the ceiling admiring the small light that came through the poor excuse of a window.

I wonder if Zemin was worried when I never came back. Would he be worried? No that’s a stupid question, of course not. If anything, he’d be annoyed that I damaged his reputation by getting caught… I still hope he got those gold pieces though, at least then I can slowly waste away in here knowing I don’t owe him any more money. Maybe he could finally fulfil his dream and go to Ba Sing Se. He used to always guilt me into learning a new form of fighting, groaning on about how he gave up the money he had to move there and start a new life with the woman he loved, to raise me. Idiot. He never had an obligation to raise me in the first place, I’m probably from nowhere, and my parents were probably mediocre people in the grand scheme of things. Who even were my-

Cutting off your train of thought, one of the guards walked up to the cell and unlocked it, another quickly grabbing your wrists, and latching them in chains. “The Fire Lord has ordered to speak with you.”

You crack a smirk, “Oh goodie, I think I’m ready for a rematch!”

“Shut it kid, you’re lucky he ordered that you can’t be disposed of… yet.”

Am I lucky? Being burnt alive and having access to a non- waterbending healer and a bowl of old rice is lucky? Oh great Spirits, thank you for gracing my life with these blessings from the great Fire Nation.

What. A. Load. Of. Shit.

Leading you to the palace, you make it into the throne room. At this point, you wanted to laugh at their efforts to scare you.

Really? Dark Lighting and a fire wall right in front of the throne you sit high and mighty? If only I were an Airbender, then I could huff and puff until you fall into the flames.

A guard standing near the Fire Lord is the first to speak. “Bow before your Fire Lord!”

Spitting on the ground, you look at Ozai in the eye. “I will never bow before you!”

He laughs.

“I know you are the one who killed one of my generals before the duel after acquiring your blade. It’s quite interesting how you managed to get to him without any bending, I must find and congratulate whoever your trainer was. Lucky for you though, the general was of no value to me and easy to replace. I will also show you mercy for what you did at the Agni Kai, only because it was my disgrace of a son you protected, and just like that general, not anyone truly valuable to the nation. Regardless of your crimes, you have already proven yourself a very great asset for a mere child. For that, I will grant you the ultimate freedom, free of any ties you have with the low lives outside of the Capital. Instead, you can directly serve your Fire Lord as my personal assassin. I will have the best swordsmen train you. Taking your abilities to new heights, you wouldn’t even begin to imagine for yourself. I will make you unstoppable. For a non-bender, that is.”

Based on the confident yet bored tone of his voice, you could easily assume he didn’t care. Yet his golden eyes narrow down towards your figure. Waiting. Testing to see if you dare defy his wishes. The offer is objectively easy. Technically, all he is asking of you is to do the same thing you’ve been raised to do, just under his allegiance.

Zuko flashes in your mind. Tears streaming down his face, and begging his father for mercy. “I will never kill for you! I would rather relive the burns you gave me every day than stand by your side!”

He sighs. “If that is what you wish. Maybe over time, you will learn what a great honour it is to be offered such an opportunity, let us meet again next week.”

The guards, as if they were expecting this, shoved you to your knees, ripped off the top you were wearing, and the bindings across your chest. Frozen as the warm air from the flames around you hit your chest, you were mortified. Knowing other guards present were intently watching you be humiliated in front of the Fire Lord, you forced yourself to control the urge to vomit the contents of your prison food on the floor. Quickly bringing your arms and hands to your chest, you winced at the sudden movement from your left arm.

Without any time to mentally prepare, both guards ignited streams of fire to your back. Instinctively you hunch over, attempting and failing to avoid the flames. Unbeknownst to you, everyone in the palace all the way to the kitchens, froze as your haunting screams echoed throughout its halls.

Through your tears and screams, you faintly heard the Fire Lord speak. “You will learn to agree, and you will comply.”

THREE MONTHS

Despite crying every time it happened, you became accustomed to the burnings every week you refused Ozai’s offer. You began to lose any emotional feeling when it happened, robotically going through each step.

They bring you to the throne room.

You say no.

You take off your shirt and bindings for yourself.

The guards burn you.

You cry.

Ozai watches you as if he had better things to do with his time.

Although today, hours after the ritual, you received your first guest that wasn’t a guard or a healer. You knew who they were after sensing them as they hid behind a pillar in the throne room every week. Sensing them through the body heat within them, a gift you always had since you were little. Theirs was crackled with so much anger and hatred; it was so unique to everyone in the palace, you barely had to think about it.

“What do I owe the pleasure of the one and only Fire Nation Princess being in my worthless presence?”

“Shut it scum!”

You let out a small laugh. “Ooo scum? That’s a lovely nickname, but honestly, a little bland, don’t you think? You ARE the Fire Nation princess after all, why not add a little spice to it?”

She didn’t seem to like that. “ENOUGH! You want spice?!” Shooting a streamline of fire from her fingertips, she shot at your head. Luckily enough, you weren’t in front of Ozai or defending her brother, so you swiftly dodged her shot.

Not giving her the satisfaction of retaliation, you sat in the middle of the cell, closing your eyes and crossing your legs. You began to meditate, trying to block out the irritating sense of fire within her.

She walked up to the bars, staring down on you. “I hope you know that my dear brother Zuzu won’t be coming back any time soon.”

This was the first time you’d heard about the Prince since the Agni Kai. She paused, waiting to see if she got a reaction out of you, but you were a trained assassin for Spirit’s sake, you had more control than that. Letting out a deep breath of air, you knew all you needed to do was stay calm.

“You do know what happened to him after you failed to protect him, don’t you? Oh! That’s right if I do recall correctly, you were so paralysed with what you had done, you didn’t even spare him a glance!” She let out a laugh as you remained still.

“Awww, yes! Poor Zuzu doesn’t even know what his ‘saviour’ looks like and he never will! You want to know why, scum?”

Not really but I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

“Because he will NEVER come back. He will NEVER step foot into the Fire Nation again because he was banished to capture the Avatar! It’s a bit ironic, don’t you think? All your pathetic little life, you have been KILLING to get out of here, gain your freedom, and you’re never going to get it. You’ll die in this cell. Yet, on the other hand, Zuzu wants nothing more than to come right home and stand by father’s side! That really does top it all off, doesn’t it, scum? You have trapped yourself here, to save someone who only just wants to come crawling right back. And if he ever did by some miracle, capture the Avatar? He would look you in the eyes and burn you himself for being such a traitor to this Nation.”

You tensed for a second, keeping your eyes closed you quickly regained composure. “Okay Azula, you’ve had your fun. That’s enough.”

She smirked with a sinister glint in her eyes. “You embarrassed him that day. You took away the little bit of dignity he could have had if you just let him get all his scars… Or at least let him die getting them.”

Enough.

“You will forever be a reminder of what should have been his. You’re going to die here for nothing.”

Enough.

“You thought you could do some good in this world? You were wrong! Your one poor excuse for saving someone’s life will always mean nothing! Zuko doesn’t care if you saved his life! He hates you! He hates you for taking away his dignity! You will die with him hating you! Your hope for doing good in this world means nothing because he is searching to take away the one thing that would end this war, even though they’re already dead!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH, AZULA!” Opening your eyes, they snapped from your usual e/c to a blinding golden light. The fire you trained for so long to control reached its tipping point and exploded from every pore in your body setting fire to anything in its wake. Azula rushed away from the bars of your cell as it melted around you. Feeling your hair raise in a halo of fire, you raised your right arm as a blast fired right next to her head. A warning shot.  

The guards outside of the cell who have been watching you since you were imprisoned, stared in shock. Not once had you shown any indication of being a fire bender.

Generally, in this state, you were unstoppable. A force even Zemin didn’t 100% know how to train, leaving you to your own devices. However, these weren’t normal circumstances. You have been tortured weekly, barely given any food or water and countless wounds that aren’t even close to being healed. After the sudden use of intense energy, you felt yourself passing out, allowing the guards to grab you quickly.

***

Groaning as if no time had passed, you found yourself chained up on a boat. “Am I going to be executed?” You weren’t sure if you were worried or hopeful at the possibility.

The female guard you knocked out on your first day in the palace sat next to you, letting out a sigh. “No, but you might as well be in your condition. You’re going to Boiling Rock, into The Cooler.”

SEVEN MONTHS

The guards came by the Cooler to deliver your food. They usually throw it to the ground and leave, but it seems today they received news that was too good to pass up the opportunity to torment you.

“Did you hear that kid? They tracked down your poor excuse of a trainer and killed him. Figured if the best he could produce was you, he wasn’t even worth sending to Boiling Rock.”

You remained curled up in the corner, unmoving as they laughed their way down the hallway. As their laughs slowly died down, you realised how pathetic you let yourself become.

Why did people have to keep dying because of you? You wanted to scream. Burn this stupid icebox down with your hands. Set the whole place to flames. But you were tired. So, so tired. You didn’t even have the energy anymore to cry when they burned you every week. Regularly being exposed to entirely polar elements began to fuck with your body. It didn’t know how to function anymore. Physically and mentally.

Despite being four months since your encounter with Azula, her words continued to spin in your mind every day. What seemed to break you the most was that you knew even if she were right, you’d do it again. If you could go back, you knew you would jump in front of him every time if it meant he was alive. Knowing he was far away from this hell hole brought you a weird sense of peace, regardless of if he was searching for the Avatar or not.

Unlike him, you weren’t far away from this wretched place. You were helpless.

Grabbing the old and cold bowl of rice, you finished your meal for the first time in three weeks.

EIGHT MONTHS

The guards walked in to take you to the palace for your weekly offer, and for the first time, you were already standing. After placing the chains to your wrists, they took you out of your cell just like they did every week. While travelling back to the Capital, you continuously persuaded yourself, this was the only way. You knew, deep down, this was the right choice. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

Entering the throne room, you make your way up to Ozai. Holding eye contact as the flames burn between you.

Bowing before him in the most traditional Fire Nation bow you can muster. You bring yourself back upright, stance and face stoic, contrasting the satisfied smirk on his face. For the first time, he doesn’t bother to make his offer.

“I am at your full service, and ready to comply my Fire Lord.”

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this or coming from my old blog!! please follow this one and stick around, I am currently working on the third chapter and a lil sokka oneshot :)) and to my taglist, i love you all, thank you all so much, i’m so sorry that you all have to deal with me rn and im so so sorry <3

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines​ @mangoberry43​ @eridanuswave​ @whiskeywinter89​ @callums-keith​ @kaylove12​ @simplyfandomish​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​

[gingerwritess]

Heeey not that you have to do this but let me throw a wrench in the happiness and ask how would Loki act if there were complications during the birth? (If you hadn't already done this?)

i’m so mad at how long this took. Frigg’s birth. FINALLY. she’s been floating in existence for ages, now she can actually be BORN and i’m actually HAPPY WITH THIS

warnings: birth. death. life again. blood. crying. pain. general angst. a happy ending. complications and (spoiler) kind of child death, but only for a little bit. everything ends happily with everyone alive.

disclaimer: i am not a doctor. i have never given birth before nor delivered a baby. forgive me if this isn’t perfectly accurate. okay enjoy

Elliot is five now and Loki still can’t believe it; he’s raising a child. With someone. And honestly, doesn’t seem to have screwed anything up too badly so far.

I mean, he must be doing something right—he’s only about a month away from getting another one.

It was a…different pregnancy.

See, Elliot was right on time. His birth went as expected, he arrived the day before your due date, you went to the hospital, everything went smoothly (for the most part. Loki still won’t forgive himself for his own behavior, but you’ve been slowly working to mend that tear).

By the end of the night, you and Loki had a beautiful, tiny, healthy (blue) baby boy.

Your daughter—Sleipnir, you’ve jokingly decided to call her until you can settle on an actual name—still has about three weeks to go.

Everything has been heightened, with this one. The pains and aches are ten times worse, the cravings and morning sickness and drowsiness have reached catastrophic levels, and you’re huge.

You feel huge, ready to pop, which is only worse than the reality of the fact: this baby must be planning on being bigger than your first, plain and simple.

The days are dragging and so are you, slugging along towards the finish line when this baby finally decides she’s had enough. You move slower than the speed needed to feel useful in any way, shape, or form, and Loki does his best to slow to your speed, too—the two of you struggle out of the house every once in a while, a dashing prince and an upright snail with its shell on backwards.

“Any day now,” Loki always smiles. He says that from morning till night, he has been for the past two weeks. “Any day now.”

Then he kisses you and tucks you into his arms, a firm hold on your enormous belly until you get too hot and sweaty and annoyed being so close to him and wiggle away to kick the blankets off.

The nightmares started with four weeks until the due date.

After the first one you thought you were in labour, waking up in a cold sweat with a sharp pain in your stomach—you screeched and smacked Loki awake and Elliot came running—but a few moments of gaining consciousness reminded you that you had simply been stabbed, in your dream.

False alarm.

That’s okay, Loki had said, rubbing your back and kissing your temple, sound every alarm. Any day now.

Can’t wait to hug blueberry, Elliot had helpfully added.

A couple nights later you dreamt you managed to actually birth this child, but when the doctor handed her to you, she was nothing more than an unrecognisable lump of cerulean flesh. No eyes, no mouth, just something alive and pulsing with little pudgy arms that reached right for your face.

Loki had to wake you up from that one.

You’re screaming, he whispered. You’ll wake Elliot, is everything alright?

You burst into tears and made Loki put you back to sleep with a spell.

More and more nights passed and sleep became more and more scarce; every time you closed your eyes, some new horror would take place: you popped your belly with a needle and it flew around the room with the squeal of a deflating balloon, the baby was born beautiful but Loki couldn’t see her, Elliot yelled “blueberry!” and ate the baby, the baby was born made of solid ice and you dropped her, sending her across the floor in a trillion tiny shards of ice.

You decided on no more sleep.

Now with only a few more weeks until something has to happen with her, you’re massively sleep deprived and begging Loki to take you to Asgard for the birth.

“It’s too dangerous,” he says, pushing you back into bed. “The baby is too developed for that kind of travel while still inside you.”

He always says that.

Deep down you know he’s right, but you’re terrified and refusing to admit it. So you lay with your back turned to him every night and he lets you, knowing how mad you are, and just traces down your spine when he thinks you’re asleep.

You don’t sleep anymore, but you don’t say anything.

Three weeks until the due date and you can’t bear the exhaustion anymore, which has only coupled with a biting cold that follows you everywhere to make matters worse.

It is you, you know it, it’s inside you and you can’t escape it no matter how many blankets you hide under, and eventually you simply…slip away, off into a deep, freezing sleep that slows your heart and nearly stops your breathing altogether.

Something is hurting today, squeezing and pulling and punching. Maybe just your daughter eager to get into the world.

Huddled in one corner of the couch under an all-encompassing heap of blankets, neither Loki nor Elliot know where you’ve gone—mini-mountains of blankets have become the norm around the house—and they panic while you dream.

Oh, bliss.

You’re back in bed, warm, rested, empty, and staring into Loki’s mesmerising eyes.

“I love you,” you try to tell him, like you just came to that conclusion, but your voice comes out in a muffled gurgle, thick underwater. Another concentrated pain hits just then, but you ignore it.

He nods, slowly.

“Don’t leave me, Loki.”

This time, a shake of the head.

His hand finds your shoulder as your eyes immediately well with tears, a once comforting gesture that this time freezes your skin over with a biting ice. A pained whimper leaves your throat over the crackling of your frozen skin.

“Beautiful girl,” Loki finally whispers.

He brings his fist crashing into your shoulder, and your arm shatters into a million pieces.

Smiling, he flicks a piece of ice from the dip of your waist.

“Don’t break me,” you plead, unable to move but trying to wake yourself up. Just a dream, just a dream.

This time his hand cups your chin, fingers digging into your jaw as you freeze over and lose the ability to speak, and he leans closer, letting his lips brush your frozen ones: “beautiful, broken girl.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

His hand tightens one notch too tight and you shatter, half your face hollow and broken and melting in Loki’s palm.

You break beautifully, he whispers, and you feel yourself floating back towards consciousness. Hush, my sweet…shh…

Nearly to the surface but you’re still underwater, losing air and fighting to reach the top and you finally do, wrenching your eyes open to the light and gasping for breath.

Loki’s stroking a hand from your temple to your cheek, staring intently at you.

This is awake, you recognise, and Elliot pats your belly like a bongo, humming quietly to himself.

“Are you alright?” Loki moves more of the blankets over you; despite your sweating, you’re freezing. “I tried to bring you out of that one as fast I could.”

Yes, you want to say, thank you, but your throat is dry and you still feel like you’re underwater. Hell, your sweats still feel wet and you still feel broken.

Broken. Break.

Broke.

Still underwater.

You choke up a mouthful of water from the dream and grab a fistful of Loki’s shirt.

“My water broke.”

Loki blinks in stunned silence, Elliot sings “bum buh dum dum dum” and keeps patting your belly.

“That’s very clumsy of you, momma.”

“Now?” Loki asks incredulously, finally finding his voice. “It’s still too early—”

You shake your head, fingers scrabbling against his chest as your breathing quickens. “Now, Loki. Now, now.”

Now becomes a concept much too terrifying to accept—now is too early. Now is too soon.

Now should’ve been on Asgard, but now it’s too late.

Hospital, Loki hears himself suggesting, mind going numb at the thought of it. Hospital means driving and doctors and needles and cuts from paperwork and cold, drab white rooms with vomit pink curtains, a paper cup of water and sitting hard on the almost-linoleum floors.

The hospital would have been fine—in three weeks.

“No other option,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut and holding tight to your belly. “She’s not waiting for me.”

The first time you went through this process, your water broke at work and Loki was there in an instant, shouting at people to get out of your way while you giggled all the way down the elevator and into the car, too giddily excited for your baby to recognize much of the pain.

It helped keep Loki calm, too, allowing for him to drive to the hospital with few issues (maybe a little fast, but that was expected) and even as your contractions worsened and you slumped lower and lower in the passenger seat, you kept looking over at him and catching his eye. He’d lift his eyebrows—swerve around a corner—and you’d blurt out a laugh, cover your face with your hands, and take a few deep breaths.

This time, the smiles and excited laughter aren’t so present. Minus Elliot, whose mouth opens wider as he slowly comes to realise what the two of you are talking about.

His dad can’t quite seem to find the right angle to help you up—but you’re fighting against him, pushing his chest away instead of pulling him closer, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritting together.

Here, you ask, no…hospital—here? TAKE ME TO ASS-GARD—then you shout TRAITOR and break down in sobs, curling back around your belly.

“Elliot,” Loki smiles, a hand smoothing over your hip. “Could you give us a moment? I’ll call you if we need help.”

The little boy nods with a bright smile, flashing Loki a thumbs up before scurrying into the hallway—where he sits with his ear to the door, his head starting to throb.

“Take me to Asgard,” you hiss.

“I can’t.”

“TRAITOR!”

“It’s not safe—”

“This isn’t safe! She’s practically frozen to me, I’m—I’m so cold.”

Loki’s voice drops to a gentle murmur, only the mild timbre of his words making it through the door. Why do you hate me?? you’re crying, and nothing Loki says or does can console you, leaving Elliot on the other side of the door spiralling deeper and deeper into the worst of Loki’s panic and your rage.

His little hands start to shake and he takes a couple deep breaths, trying to ignore the gut-twisting pain shooting through his small frame.

“Momma?”

“I bet you planned this—”

“Mommy…”

His dad tries to soothe you but the pain is worsening and your daughter wants out, now. She’s moving quickly, an angry little thing already, not waiting for you.

“Just breathe, love. Just stand with me, let’s get you to the car—”

“Shut up,” you snap at Loki, stopping his sweet nothings and pointless reassurances in his throat. “Just have her here.”

Elliot tries to call for you again, trying to warn you because this already hurts and he got sent outside to feel your pain all alone, but you’re feeling it worse and more concentrated as Loki rushes to process what you’ve just asked of him.

“No, but the hospital—”

“Shut up,” you hiss through painfully gritted teeth. “Here. I can’t stand.”

“You would rather…” his hand stops on your hip and holds tight. “Here? Really?”

“You’re a god,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut as your daughter goes cold, “you know everything. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital. Get her out of me, Loki.”

—

Something cracks through the room amidst Elliot’s sobs.

“Fu—damn it,” Loki hisses, and wrenches his hand from yours.

Swollen and turning the most grotesque shade of yellowish-purple, his thumb is bending the wrong way.

“You broke my thumb,” he grunts from between your knees, blinking back tears.

It’s been years since anything actually hurt him, much less broke something, but you were shivering so violently and clutching onto his hand so tightly that it only took one push to make you snap his thumb.

“Sorry,” you choke, unable to find it in you to care too much. Later you’ll croon over him and kiss his bruises but for now, you’re pushing his child out of you. And she’s cold, so one finger can’t possibly be that bad.

The broken finger brings the whole birthing process to a quick pause as Loki scrambles to make some kind of splint for his thumb before getting back to you.

“Deep breaths,” he says under his breath, “deep breaths.”

Both of you follow his instructions, Loki’s lips moving rapidly in muttered incantations, trying to keep you from freezing over completely and the mess to a minimum, dull your pain, make this go as smoothly and correctly as possible.

A slumped, sobbing little pile on the other side of the door, Elliot has had to go forgotten for the moment. Three weeks too early, the baby is so tiny that the slightest wrong movement or slip in focus could end her life before it starts.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs when your head starts to roll limply back onto the floor. A deep breath splits him in two and he sends the duplicate to your side, already exhausted just from trying to keep you conscious enough to push.

“Keep breathing,” it whispers, stroking a hand along your frozen cheek, “almost there. Stay with me.”

Another push and you taste blood; must’ve bit your tongue amidst all the teeth chattering. Elliot goes quiet behind the door, then shrieks.

“MOMMA, BLOOD!”

“L-Lok—Elliot, get—”

“Shh, I’ve got him. Keep pushing, deep breaths.”

He hides his wince of pain and splits once more, sending a third bit of himself out the doorway to comfort the little boy while the other two keep trying to get this new baby into the world.

Your throat is closing in on itself, slowly but surely asphyxiating you and your fingers scratch at Loki’s broken hand, reaching for the real Loki, scratching his arm when no words will come out. He can only spare a single, quick glance up at your terrified face, eyes bloodshot and lips cracked from the dry iciness of the room.

Your head lolls, eyes rolling back in your head as you choke.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, squeezing your knee with a blood-covered hand. “Almost there.”

One last push and Loki shouts something in a language you can’t understand, but there’s a new weight pressing on your lower stomach for half a second, a blinding flash of blood-red light on the backs of your eyelids, and the world goes dark.

“No,” Loki croaks, and you hear one shrill, tiny cry from his arms, a heartbreaking sob from your son behind the door, and everything falls silent.

“No.”

—

She’s tiny.

Barely bigger than the palm of his hand.

The newborn should be squirming, should be crying and screeching in need of her mother, but she lays limp in Loki’s hands.

“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “No, no, breathe. Breathe.”

His fingers press gently on the slicked skin of her belly, once, twice, three times; he turns the tiny body on her side, trying again to get the little chest to lift with air.

No movement.

“No, nonono, no, no.”

A quick slice of the hand cuts the umbilical cord and it falls from her fragile neck. Loki cradles her close, staggering to his feet and holding her to his chest, bloody hands trying to bring the life back to her lungs and pressing her to his heart, trying to remind her’s how to function.

“Please,” he whispers, shakily running a hand over her tiny, slick head. “Stay with me, no, stay with me...”

You’re unconscious on the floor, lying in a pool of your own blood and Loki can’t be with you both, his duplicates phasing out of existence as he loses the strength to keep them up. Elliot yells again when the one he was with disappears, banging his little fists on the door, and Loki slumps against the far wall, staring at you with tears streaking his face.

You look dead. The baby in his arms is, and he can’t bring himself to look at her.

He hadn’t even gotten to see her eyes.

“Come back to me,” he pleads, trembling fingers running down her tiny body, ten toes, ten little fingers that should’ve curled around his, a little button nose and a dusting of dark hair on her head, blood on her cheeks.

Skin blue as the deep ocean, cold as a corpse.

“Breathe—”

Her fragile form presses against his chest and he holds her closer, trying to warm her, press her to his skin, to his pounding heart.

“Please. Breathe, breathe.”

The baby’s arm drops from his grip.

“No, no, stay with me…”

Should’ve gone to the hospital. Should’ve gone to the hospital.

It might be better if you don’t wake. He can’t face you after nine months of hell with nothing but a dead body to show for it.

Elliot’s finally given up. Loki can see him, lying in a heap against the crack under the door, silently shaking and staining the hardwoods with his tears.

His house falls silent.

For a moment he just sits there. Defeated. Alone. The tiny body of his daughter in his hands, your unconscious form bloodied on the floor.

Should’ve known better.

Frigga.

Frigga would’ve known better.

“Mother,” he chokes out, eyes closing as he cradles the lifeless baby to his heart. “Frigga. Allmother, all–all I had—help me.”

The last pleas fall into the silent house, soaking into the walls and fleeing through the windows as Loki repeats it, over and over and over:

Help us. Help us.

Let us have our daughter.

The very air in the room stills. Only dry sobs, with no tears left to spill break the brittle silence.

Don’t wake up, Loki finds himself hoping as he stares with an empty gaze at your unconscious body. I can’t explain this.

Elliot can feel it, he knows it hurts him, but it’s a good thing he can’t see this horrid scene, this murder scene in their home. His father slumped in a corner with dead eyes, a tiny, bloody baby limp in his arms. His mother in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Loki closes his eyes.

He’s seen enough.

Frigga. Please.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Then, a tiny cough.

Another cough and the tiny body shudders in his hands, curling in on herself, little hands curling into fists, her mouth opens in the tiniest scream—

His daughter cries, and it’s the most beautiful sound Loki has ever heard.

“Oh,” Loki chokes, tears stinging his eyes, “oh, my—”

Cradling her to his heart, he finally breaks. He’s shaking, trembling, laughing and crying all at once as he listens to his daughter cry, feeling her tiny hands reaching blindly, her little belly lifting with each shaky breath.

“Loki.”

It’s a hoarse croak from across the room, and you manage to lift a hand towards him.

“Oh,” is all he can choke out again, “you—”

His laughter mixes with your daughter’s cries and he crawls towards you, clutching the baby to his heart and running a shaking hand over her to wash her with a spell.

“Frigg,” Loki whispers hoarsely, grabbing your hand with his free one, broken thumb be damned. “Can we name her Frigg? Frigga—Frigga saved—”

“Frigg,” you breathe, and Loki lays the wriggling newborn on your chest. “Frigg, oh, you’re perfect…”

Loki carefully helps prop your back up against the couch, clutching your hand and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes clenched shut.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Frigg. A perfect name for the perfect child, a tiny, mewling little girl clutching at your chest and Loki can’t look away, stunned by the ease with which she shifts to her more human form when you cradle her close. 

Kneeling by your side, your hand in his clutched to his heart, he keeps his forehead against your temple and sends a silent thank you to the only mother he ever knew.

“Loki,” you murmur, the baby nuzzling against your neck, “she’s so beautiful. So beautiful.”

He can only choke out another teary laugh, nodding and squeezing your hand, not ready to let go yet as he kisses your forehead. 

A quiet moment passes just soaking in the fact that your little girl is breathing, you staring at her tiny movements while Loki lets himself catch his breath against your cheek. Right now, he can’t hold you tight enough.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Frigg and catch sight of Elliot laying against the crack under the door, and a pang of guilt twists your heart. 

“Loki,” you whisper, reaching up to stroke his tearstained cheek, “Elliot. Go get Elliot.”

He nods, eyes still tightly shut as he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you with a sharp inhale, breathing you in. When his eyes open, they have a new spark to them and he pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head with another disbelieving laugh at the sight of his wife and his daughter, alive, together, breathing, hearts beating. 

“Elliot,” he finally calls out, turning to open the door and stopping short when he sees his son curled up on the floor. “Elliot. Oh, kærr, come here.”

He bends and scoops the little boy into his arms, hugging him close as Elliot buries his face in Loki’s neck. 

“You have a new sister,” Loki softly tells him, rubbing his back and carrying him over to you. “What do think of the name Frigg?”

Your son just sniffles and hugs Loki tighter, not letting go even when Loki carefully sits besides you and Frigg, conjuring a warm blanket for the newborn.

“I know it’s not Blueberry,” you add, carefully wrapping her and keeping her as close as possible for the most body heat. “But I think it’s pretty good. What do you think, kiddo?”

“S’like gramma,” he sniffs, little voice muffled in Loki’s neck. “Right?”

Loki manages another laugh. “Right. Frigg. Just like gramma.”

Elliot eventually lifts his head, rubbing his red eyes with the back of his hand and leaning against Loki’s chest, staring at his new sister. 

“She’s real little.”

“She’s early,” you reply with a smile, thumb stroking over her soft head. “She should’ve been here next month, but she got too excited to meet her brother and couldn’t wait.”

A tiny smile tugs at Elliot’s mouth.

“Hi, Frigg.” 

Loki catches your gaze, the softest of smiles playing at his lips. 

“I’m gonna be your brother,” Elliot continues quietly, and sits up on Loki’s lap to look at Frigg a little closer. “You’re so tiny. Can I hold her?”

You chew your lip, glancing back up at Loki. “She needs all the warmth she can get right now, what do you think…?”

Loki just nods, carefully taking the bundled baby from your arms, laying a hand on her head as it glows gold. “I’ll take care of that,” he replies, and brushes his lips gently over her head. “Sit down here, Elliot, right next to mom.”

Elliot does, scrambling to sit crisscross against your side, arms reaching for Frigg. “Ready, ready.”

“Careful,” Loki warns him, gently placing the newborn in Elliot’s arms. “Support her head, right, keep your arm just like that.”

Elliot’s cheeks are puffed out as he holds his breath, focused strictly on perfecting the way to hold his baby sister, staring at her tiny nose and shut eyes. 

Not bothering to hide your smile, you lean in close, your hand under his arm to help support her head, just in case. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Elliot lets out his breath slowly, brows furrowing. 

“Nah, not really.”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot to his hair and you burst out laughing. 

“She’ll look completely different in a couple weeks,” you laugh, planting a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “She’s about to get really, really cute, don’t worry.”

Smiling softly, Loki shifts around to sit on your other side, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning over to kiss your temple. “She is beautiful,” he whispers, stroking the back of one finger over her tiny cheek. “She is. We made that.”

“Frigg,” you whisper back. In the arms of your son, she sleeps quietly, tiny eyes shut tight. “Thank you, Loki. For everything.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it. 

The makeshift splint on his broken thumb rubs rough against your skin.

“Loki!” You grab his hand and he winces. “Your thumb, oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” he laughs. 

“No, it’s not, oh my god, I’m so, so sorry—”

“My first broken bone in a thousand years.” A finger under your chin, he tips your head up and catches your lips with his. “I’d say it was worth it.

―   ―   ―   ―

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