#like fuck I thought knew but I have an abundance of evidence for otherwise

[thesorcererandhisking]

The thing they don’t tell you about yarn art is that you will learn that you don’t know how to count.

[bratkook]

like a peach. kth.

pairing. taehyung x reader genre. fluff, established relationship warnings. mentions of alcohol, oc is sloshed and clumsy while drunk but otherwise cute word count. 2.5k note. this was requested by @pars-ley​ under #14 #57 #60 from this prompt list, i know the numbers were listed under angst but somehow this became fluffy so im sorry asksjak

The hallway in your complex is completely quiet besides the metallic clanks of your keys jingling against the door knob that echo out, your double vision making your hands miss their target as you once again try to unlock it. With a small laugh you rest your forehead against the door, lips pressed together tightly to hush your drunk giggles. 

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you press your palms flat against the door, refusing to look at the keyhole since that hasn’t been going well, instead you feel it out, index finger guiding the key against it until it finally slides in. 

“Hell yeah,” you cheer in a whisper, turning the lock and smiling as your front door gets pushed open and reveals the interior of your dimly lit apartment. The creek of your floorboards makes you grimace, only being made worse when you lose the grip on your keys and they clatter on the ground in a sound you swear is deafeningly loud. 

You were doing an absolute horrible job at keeping quiet, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughs as you bend over and grab them, wobbling around ungracefully and unintentionally slamming the door shut once you stepped inside. 

Taehyung groans from his spot in bed in the room a few feet away, having heard you the minute you rammed into the front door ten minutes ago as you failed to unlock it, trying to block it out in order to get his eight hours of sleep needed before his shift tomorrow morning. He remains in bed though, trusting you enough to know you’d be able to get from point a to point b on your own.

Just as he flips over and tugs the sheets above his head, you enter your shared bedroom, going in totally blind in order to not turn the lights on to prevent disturbing him further. His eyes are shut as he listens to your movements, a small smile on his lips when you start to mumble to yourself as you attempt to recall the layout of the bedroom in your inebriated state. 

“Okay,” you whisper as you inch forward, mentally calculating how many steps it took to get to where you wanted to be, hand outstretched to swat in front of you to help guide you in a fool proof method. “That's the nightstand,” you decide when your palm smacks the hard surface, a small giggle filling the air before you hush yourself once more, finger pressed against your lips. 

If you were right then your bathroom door should only be a few feet to the right, close enough for you to be able to enter with ease, but seeing as you decided to throw back two more shots before leaving the bar you’re not as coordinated as you’d like to think. 

With a confident step, you’re ramming your knee into the corner of the nightstand, the pain flashing up your thigh as you bend forward to clutch the area that throbbed. “Ow fuck,” you wince, loosing your footing and tumbling onto the ground with an even louder thump, unable to conceal the laughter from escaping you full force. 

Taehyung can’t pretend to be asleep any longer now that you’re laughing in pain, sitting up in bed and flicking on the table lamp on his own night stand, the room flooding with that warm familiar glow and it grabs your attention. With a muffled yawn he’s rubbing at his eyes before looking to the side where he sees you laying on the ground in a heap of limbs, absolutely defeated as you continue laughing to yourself. 

“You okay?” His voice is laced with sleep, deep and gravely but you can hear the hint of a smile that you know is on his lips and as you lift your head up to stare back at him you see that much is true. He looks tired beyond belief, eyes squinting at you but the curl of his lips makes you smile back at him, sitting up to rest on your butt instead of sprawled out on the carpet. 

“I think my knee is broken,” you slur with a tilt to your head, eyes looking down at the knee in question, the dull throb still felt from earlier pulsing through the joint. It aches as you stretch it out, wiggling your toes to make sure you weren’t somehow paralyzed now from the force of the impact.

Taehyung chuckles at that, shuffling out of bed and stretching his arms out as he does so, his shirtless upper body out for you to ogle at without a care. If you thought your knee was broken that just wouldn’t do, not on his watch. You observe him quietly as he rounds the bed, his grey sweats hung dangerously low on his hips, bed head leaving his curls fluffed and nearly covering his eyes, looking just as beautiful as he always did.

“Did you have fun?” Taehyung wonders as he approaches you, smelling the alcohol from you now that he was closer. The glazed look in your eyes spell it out for him, the cheeky smile on your face despite the tumbles you have taken entering the apartment alone not putting a damper on the small buzz coursing through your veins, you had clearly had an amazing time.

He sighs gently as he crouches down to your level, knees bent as he softly cradles your face in his palms, thumbs soothing your face when you lean into his touch. “No,” you surprise him with your answer, bottom lip pillowing out as you bite down on it, eyes falling shut briefly as you enjoy finally being with your boyfriend.

“No?” He repeats, leaning forward until his lips met the skin of your forehead in a sweet kiss and you swear your heart squeezes in your chest at the action, more so when he takes it upon himself to start helping you get ready for bed, smiling when he hears the cute way you mumble about him being too good for you under his breath. His hands are tender as he unclasps the hooks to the necklaces you have layered on, your earrings and rings being next to slide off and be placed on top of the nightstand that was the reason for your tumble.

“I missed you too much, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It comes out as a whine, knowing that although you did have a great time with your friends on a much needed outing, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, wanting to text him every hour to see how he was doing at home, desperate for any update despite how mundane it was. He appeases you always, sending you selfies as he rewatches episodes of Criminal Minds, answering your drunk phone calls just to hear you ramble about how good the salted tortilla chips you were eating tasted before abruptly hanging up when your friends handed you another drink.

“Yeah, I think you sent me around fifty I miss you texts,” he teases you, kissing you quickly before standing up to grab one of his shirts from your shared dresser for you to change into. Taehyung would never mind the abundance of messages he’d get on your nights out, preferring that to radio silence and wondering when you’d be home, the love spelled out in typo filled texts leaving him excited for your return home.

“I always miss you.” You breathe out a sigh, smiling wide when he reaches his arms out for you to grab onto, hauling you up onto your unsteady feet once more. The throbbing from your knee was long gone but the wobbling remained so he wraps one of your hands around his shoulder so you could keep yourself steady, not willing to let you tumble once more now that he was around.

“I always miss you too baby.” His admission makes those same butterflies swirl in your tummy, wings flapping so hard you think you might pass out, choosing to grip his shoulder tighter to prevent that from happening. You feel like a love sick puppy whenever you’re around him, sporting permanent heart eyes that are crystal clear despite the beer goggles strapped tightly to your face.

Taehyung has to hold in his teasing when he sees the way your eyes stay glued on him despite how your head lolls to the side the longer you stand there, allowing him to tug up your simple black dress up and off your body, unhooking it from the hand holding onto him before it fell to the floor in a pile.

With the new exposure of your skin, his eyes zero in on the slowly forming bruise on your hip, a splotch of red that was sure to blossom and spread out into shades of purple and blue tomorrow morning. He can’t stop himself from reaching forward and allowing his fingertips to prod at it, apologizing when you wince at the small flash of pain.

“What happened here?” He wonders, knowing very well that you didn’t have that on your body before you left. The only purple specks that coated your skin were nestled in between your thighs, victims of his wandering mouth, but he knew that his lips hadn’t traveled this high up.

With a confused pout you stare down at the area he was now circling softly, eyes widening in realization before you begin giggling. Taehyung simply watches in confusion as you break out into a fit of laughter as you recall how you had gotten that nasty bruise, having rammed your drunk self right into the metal pole outside of the bar. “Tequila happened.”

He just smiles in understanding, unhooking your bra for you before sliding the top of his shirt over your head, he knew very well how clumsy you were without alcohol in your system, witnessing first hand how many times you’d taken nasty falls with the help of Don Julio.

“What, were you ready to square up with someone because I bruise like a peach?” The flash of possessiveness in his face as he spotted the bruise was evident enough, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks with a dopey smile when he tries to play it off with a huff and roll of his eyes.

Taehyung doesn’t fool anyone though, the creeping smile on his face calling his bluff when his eyes meet yours once more. “You know I’d hurt anyone who left a mark on you.”

“Oh yeah?” you giggle, pressing a loving kiss against his lips, feeling him smile through it, not minding the way you taste like tequila. “Well there’s a pretty sturdy light post outside of the bar that you’re more than welcome to go punch for me you macho man.”  

Taehyung laughs now, that hearty laugh you love so much and it warms your chest as he pulls away fully, large hand coming up to cup under your chin, fingers pushing into your cheeks until your lips pucker out obnoxiously. “I’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning,” he presses a rough kiss against you, the wet smack making you snicker in his grasp. “But for now it's bedtime.”

Your lips attempt to pout in the pursed position he has them in, only cheering up when he kisses you once more, releasing his grip and continuing to help you get ready for bed now that it’s been established that your knee was in fact not broken. 

This had to be your favorite part of going out, getting to come home to your boyfriend and being taken care of like a spoiled princess, he knew how much he personally enjoyed it when you would baby him when he came home wasted and giddy, so he always took the time to ensure you were comfortable enough to not go to sleep feeling gross. You’re pliant in his grasp as he hauls you onto the bathroom counter, allowing him to peel off your fake lashes and set them aside with care, removing your makeup with a wipe as carefully as he could, taking the time to not yank at your skin because he knew you’d lecture him about wrinkles.

He only gets a small noise of complaint from you when he brushes your hair, bristles catching onto a knot that he attributes to dried up alcohol that was surely splashed onto you earlier in the night. He decides then to call it quits with that, setting the brush aside and getting your toothbrush ready for you to use, something you were adamant on doing on your own.

Taehyung can just watch you with those same heart shaped eyes you wore as you brush your teeth, eyes droopy as you stare at your reflection, foamy toothpaste escaping from the corners of your mouth and dripping down into the sink as you stick your tongue out to be brushed next.

“What?” you mumble after spitting it all out, eyes narrowed at his own reflection in suspicion before gargling water.

“Nothing, you’re just really pretty.” You don’t fight him on the compliment, always loving how he confidently shot them out to you so often you had no other choice but to accept them even when you felt anything but. He smiles as you avert your eyes and dab at your mouth, mumbling a cute thank you out to him before swiftly exiting the bathroom, cheeks burning from the alcohol and flutter of your emotions.

He allows you to escape without teasing you further, cleaning up the splash of water you had left around the sink as you make yourself cozy in bed, breath minty fresh and face moisturized. Just as you’re about to complain about him being missing he slips into bed beside you, shuffling under the sheets until he feels your skin pressed beside his, wasting no time you nuzzle against Taehyung’s body, arm slung across his stomach with your leg hooked over his hip to keep him close. 

“So, tell me again how I’m a macho man.” The laughter that bubbles out of you makes him smile as he stares down at you through the dim light the moon provides, seeing the way you bury your face into his chest to conceal the giant smile. 

“You want an ego boost at 3 in the morning?”

“Hey you started it,” he shrugs, a yawn escaping him, showing you just how tired he was, not once complaining about being woken up by your drunk antics despite desperately needing sleep. 

“You’re right,” you sigh, tightening your hold on him and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, “love you my macho man”

Taehyung hums in appreciation, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you even closer, a kiss pressed to your forehead making you smile the way it always did. “Love you more my little peach.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 first part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Goodness)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Okay! This episode is a real slice of healthy family dynamics, not triggering in any way. [Uh if this is your first Restless Rewatch: that is sarcasm, dear readers]

Goodbye to You, Goodbye to Everything We Knew

Nie Huaisang asks why Meng Yao has to leave and Meng Yao says "I killed a guy without permission, so your brother fired me." 

Ha ha ha ha no he doesn't. But he does give Nie Huaisang a sweet, sad smile; he seems touched by NHS's distress. 

Meng Yao carefully removes Nie Huaisang's hands from his shoulders and bows to him, wordlessly signaling the change in their relationship from intimate friends to formal strangers, while Nie Huaisang looks crushed. 

They will return to intimate friendship in the future, but falsely. Meng Yao believes that truly loving a person can include destroying their family and using them as an instrument in your murder plots as long as you don't directly harm them.  Nie Huaisang eventually learns to use people just as brutally, but he doesn't lie to himself about what he's doing. This farewell may be the last harmless moment between these friends. 

Jiang Cheng is distressed by what's going on, while Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and watches, fully in Sherlock Holmes mode, instead of his more usual concerned-for-my-friend mode. This may signal mistrust of Meng Yao, who refused his initial attempt at friendship, and not in a sexy, slice-your-face-off way.  Or it may mean that he's reserving judgement on a complicated family situation. He maintains his uncharacteristic reserve through the entire encounter. 

(more behind the cut!)

Nie Huaisang runs in and asks his brother WTF happened. Nie Mingjue says "he killed my subordinate without permission, when he knows perfectly well power must flow from the ruler; it's like he didn't even read that Foucault book I gave him."

Ha ha ha actually he just yells at his brother, as if NHS doesn’t have his own relationship with Meng Yao after being wonder twink powers with him for probably a couple of years now. NHS has to sit and process his loss and confusion in silence.

As a younger sibling who would make friends with my older siblings' girlfriends and then lose those friends if they broke up, for reasons having nothing to do with why I liked their girlfriends, I super feel Nie Huaisang's pain here.

OTOH, older siblings are entitled to have break ups and not explain themselves to anyone besides their lover because that's the nature of intimacy. The moral is, uhh...don't have a family curse that makes you unreasonably angry. 

Jiang Cheng steps up to advocate for Meng Yao, because Meng Yao is injured, and because Jiang Cheng is actually a born leader who knows better than to throw away a useful subordinate. For example, even when Wei Wuxian is at his drunkest and most defiant, Jiang Cheng tries to reform him, not kick him out, only drawing the line at having unpopular zombie friends.

Wei Wuxian continues to keep his mouth shut, waiting for Nie Mingjue to calm down, and speaking only about the tactical situation. He clearly knows there's more to this story but he's pretty good at keeping his head down in a family ruckus, and we're about to learn why.

Yunmeng Town

The Yunmeng bros go home to Lotus Pier, where they are greeted in town with bows, smiles, and free stuff.

We've mostly been seeing them in their roles within the cultivation community, where Jiang Cheng is grumpy and anxious, and Wei Wuxian is sassy and iconoclastic. Here among common people, they are both charming, friendly, and polite, like the imaginary good kind of gentry.

They hear the news from a local lotus seller that the small clans are coming to the Jiang Clan for shelter, but that otherwise everything's ok, which doesn't sound like everything is ok at all. He gives Wei Wuxian a giant bag of lotuses for his sister to make soup from.

Home to Lotus Pier

All the disciples practicing in the courtyard at Lotus Pier are excited to see them, and one girl goes running to tell Jiang Yanli. Thanks to the admittedly beautiful design of Lotus Pier, she is running for a long time.

A long, long time. Getting around on all these insane walkways must be a real drag if you're not the flying sort of cultivator.

Discipline and Punish

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian immediately go and kneel while they wait for their official punishment. Jiang Cheng is kinda worried about the punishment and Wei Wuxian is like, I'm good at being punished, just let me do it. 

Much later, and for a really long fucking time

He also tries to get Jiang Cheng to stop being mad, even giving him skritches while he says they should be brothers after they die.

Which they will, as it happens, although Jiang Cheng after the Wen torture is only mostly golden-core dead, while WWX dies for real.

When Jiang Fengmian shows up Jiang Cheng starts to explain that they were with Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian hushes him; he is still keeping the secret of the Yin Iron. Although he's keeping it in exactly the manner that a teenager keeps their weed stash secret: immediately tell literally every teen friend about it, but keep it extra secret from everybody's parents. 

Happy Families Are All Alike

Now we get to meet Yu Ziyuan, who is generally styled Madame Yu but who I'm going to call by her name just as if she was a male character. More on that concept in a minute. She rolls up looking, smelling, feeling like a million yuan, with her two murder bitches in tow.

Her marriage is an unhappy one, and her husband does his best to avoid her and avoid conflict, lying to the kids that she's tired and then sending her away later with the same line about being tired, which is a particularly gendered kind of gaslighting. She is obviously not tired, other than being tired of Jiang Fengmian's shit.

I'm not going to say she's the worst mother ever, because parenthood in a feudal society entails a wide range of skills, many of which she has in abundance. She starts off with a relatively tender greeting to Jiang Cheng, tuning up his always-amazing sartorial style, which is exactly like her own. They are all ready for the mommy & me fashion show.

That said, she dishes out hellacious verbal abuse to everyone in her family. She targets each one in turn, making Wei Wuxian the focus of most of her ire, but without ever directly speaking to him. He is not, in her view, part of her family. 

The Stages of Family Dinner

1. Try to fix it and defuse the situation

2. Yeah no

3. Just keep your head down and be glad it’s not your turn in the hot seat

This family meal hammers home how much Wei Wuxian is not, actually, part of the family. Jiang Fengmian adopted him into the clan, and told A-Cheng and A-Yi to treat him as a sibling, but he didn't give him the Jiang name, and he didn't get his wife's approval. He also doesn’t expect him to dress like any other clan member, apparently. 

Compare this to how Lan Wangji, actual good parent, fully integrates his own adopted son into his clan and family, starting with giving him the Lan surname.  

The hits just keep coming as she goes after Jiang Cheng for being less gifted than Wei Wuxian, Yanli for performing labor for Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Fengmian for possibly begetting Wei Wuxian.

On first watching this scene I took her question "Is this how you raise someone else's son?" to mean that she thought Jiang Fengmian was being too nice to a kid who was actually an outsider, taking resources away from the real kids. But on rewatching, it's pretty clear that she's saying his favoring Wei Wuxian is evidence that Wei Wuxian is NOT someone else's son; that he's Jiang Fengmian's bastard. 

Jiang Fengmian doesn't say a thing to this, or to her mentioning WWX’s mother. This shit is why WWX is running around in the world desperate for any crumb of info he can get about his Mom; he hears about her all the goddamn time at home, but only as insults to her character.  

A Bitch is Not Wrong

Here's the thing, though; a lot of what Yu Ziyuan says is correct. 

Jiang Fengmian should be a lot more concerned about the danger to the children, and should not leave it up to the kids to decide who's going to bear that danger.

Yanli does a lot of food=love, which is ok in the right doses, but causes her to pretty extremely lose face during the whole "soup for Jin Zixuan" debacle. And her doting on Wei Wuxian is...kinda excessive. I mean, yeah, she’s more like a mom than a sister to him, but still. Running out onto an active battlefield to look for him, frex, will be a skosh too much. 

I have a dictionary too, mom

Jiang Cheng, as the future clan leader, shouldn't let his attachments affect his decision making, and should let Wei Wuxian, who's the superior cultivator, fend for himself more often. We love Jiang Cheng for those moments where he puts himself in harm's way to protect his loved ones, but it's not a good strategy. He constantly yells at Wei Wuxian for the exact same thing he does all the time himself; he just limits who he does it for.

After she roasts the shit out of everyone for these failings, she leaves, and everyone sits around being miserable and not talking about what just happened. 

Not to be gender studies-y on main but: the awful things she says to her children are really not very different from the things that Jiang Cheng says to Jin Ling, although her targeting is more adept. JC also says a lot of mean things to WWX when he’s angry. When a man says cruel or insulting things, it's often presented as real love hidden under a rough exterior. When a woman does it, she's a monster.

If you enjoy this sort of interaction you should definitely have a look at Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and the plays of Eugene O'Neill.

Road Runner

Oh thank god, moving on

Lan Wangji is headed back to Cloud Recesses, and gets ambushed by the roadside with the most ridiculous trap this side of Wile E. Coyote.

Wen Chao thinks the "rug over a hole" trap is a good idea for someone who can literally fly.

Lan Wangji doesn't faff about with sword riding, he just fucking goes up in the air and stays there until he is good goddamn ready to come down. A hole in the sidewalk is really not going to be a problem for him. 

Wen Zhuliu does get in one kick before Lan Wanji yeets backwards away from him, in a moment that's scarier on rewatching, now that I know what Wen Zhuliu is capable of.

Wen Chao talks some smack to Lan Wangji, hilariously complaining about "your patronizing tone" to a man who has literally never spoken a word to him, IIRC, and certainly isn't speaking now. Maybe it's a mistranslation and should be "attitude," or maybe Wen Chao is just that dumb.

Apparently Wei Wuxian made a stack of talismans for Lan Wangji to take on the road with him. This talisman is a twin to the one Lan Wangji brings out way, way later in Yunping, when Wei Wuxian says "you even have kept it until now." Missing scene alert! What else did he make for him?

In Yunping this talisman is used to distract some random harmless street bullies. Here it is used against a seven-man murder squad.

This works.

Assault on Cloud Recesses

Forgettable disciple #1, Su She, comes rushing in to tell Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen that Cloud Recesses is under attack.

I'm pretty sure these dudes already know it, because they are meditating extra hard with a buttload of incense, and Lan Qiren is about to cough up some blood. So I think they're trying to hold the ward, rather than just, like, chilling while their disciples get stabbed.

Cloud Recesses is super on fire, you guys; it's going to totally burn to the ground; look at that conflagration, oh the humanity, etc.

Lan Qiren Rises to the Occasion

Ok, I like to rag on Failmaster Qiren and he is definitely an authoritarian dick a whole lot of the time, but in this scene he is fucking amazing.

He starts off worrying about Lan Wangji, not just out of affection but out of strategic planning, probably in equal parts. All three of these Lans take their clan responsibilities extremely seriously.

Then he calmly assesses the situation while imperturbable Lan Xichen freaks the fuck out. 

Lan Xichen is right to be alarmed, because he knows his uncle, he knows one of them is likely to die, and he knows that Lan Qiren will choose to take the hit.

I love, love, love Lan Qiren's physicality here; how centered and assured he is, as he holds his nephew steady and explains what is required of both of them.

Lan Xichen knows Lan Qiren is right. He is utterly fucking devastated, and all he can do to show his love...

...is to obey. 

This whole scene just. kills me.

Su She and forgettable disciple #2 are in the room for this whole conversation, and they join Lan Xichen in this deep bow. Note: I will be reminding everyone of this fact in Part 2.

Whew. This episode is a LOT. Part 2 Coming Soon!

Writing Prompt: What other goodies did Wei Wuxian put in Lan Wangji's care package before Lan Wangji hit the road without saying goodbye?

Soundtrack: 1. Michelle Branch, Goodbye to You 2. Ludacris, Stand Up

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

⇺ ⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂ ⇻

↣ Masterpost

↣ inspired by @haik-choo’s post

↣ wc: 1.7k 

↣ warnings: some self inflicted pain (nothing major!), cheating mentions, serious heartbreak. 

↣  song recommendation:  tolerate it - taylor swift 

↣  preamble (as written by haik-choo):  akaashi keiji doesn’t get that not everyone can understand how someone feels with one look. he puts an extra sugar in his coffee and expects you to know that he wants to go out to a bakery, he clicks his red pens a few extra times and expects you to know that he needs refills – he says he has a lot of work tonight and expects you to make him midnight snacks. to him, that stuff is easy. why can’t you understand him? he does it for you – he shouldn’t have to say it out loud. you should already know what he’s thinking. if you don’t, maybe you don’t love him as much as he thought you did.

The complexity of love has never been accurately represented in the media. Films present reality through the lens of a fractured mirror to provide viewers a sense of emotion they cannot find elsewhere. Fairy tales are perhaps the worst form of media to exist. They are created to be consumed by young impressionable children who develop unrealistic expectations that are later thrust upon the unfortunate souls that become their partners. You were one of those children who bought the falsities sold to you. Love was something magical, the intertwining of two hearts.

You were sixteen when you fell in love for the first time. Enthralled by how one emotion could paint new colours in the horizons, you allowed yourself to fall… it was perfect, until you found yourself crying on the bathroom floor, wondering why the fairy tales lied to you.

You were seventeen when you first experienced heart break. Even now, you can remember the shame that drenched your soul when you learned that the one you loved, had slept with someone else. Each inch of your skin was tainted by your “prince charming.”

That night, your mother had to drag you out of the bath. The pads of your toes and fingers had shriveled up, while your arms and legs burned a bright crimson from the incessant scrubbing. Yet the tingling of your skin was merely a scratch in comparison to the laceration inside of your heart, and there was no band aid that you could apply there.

That was December 3rd 2014 – the date you abandoned your foolish ideals.

You met Akaashi Keiji exactly six months later.

If you were ever asked to describe the mystery that is Keiji, where would you begin? Were there truly any words that could accurately capture the very essence of his kind soul? Or the depth of this mesmerizing eyes? How would you possibly begin to explain how a single caress by his calloused fingertips had melted away the imaginary grime that had coated your skin? If anyone was prince charming, it was him.

But little did you know that sometimes he doubted whether you were his Cinderella. His happily ever after…

The first indication of his veiled concerns occurred in your last year of high school. With the departure of his third-year friends, Akaashi was titled captain of the boy’s volleyball team. While he enjoyed volleyball, he was never obsessed with the sport like his best friend. Volleyball was his hobby, nothing more and nothing less. He was more concerned with maintaining his high academic record than securing a ticket to nationals. Last year balancing the various fragments of his life was simple. But the absence of his friends weighed on him, each day the anxiety increased until he could barely sit without jitters swarming his limbs. As his girlfriend, you should have known the stress he was battling… Sure, he was pushing you away, but you should have known why.

Yet, when you attempted to thwart his efforts to establish distance, you were chastised for your lack of understanding.

“Y/n. I am busy. Please do not disturb me during practice.” Not the slightest bit of respect was allocated to you, despite your status as his girlfriend. And while his pointed response was undoubtedly directed towards to you, his attention was on the practice commencing inside of the gym. “Listen, I need to go back. If you want to talk, consider picking a more appropriate time in the future.” Rolling the towel within his grasp, he refused to acknowledge you beyond sharing these words.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” To even utter an apology stole the limited resolve you had to address the situation. How much did you have to degrade yourself to fix a relationship he evidently did not want?

But the following day at lunch period, a dozen roses were delivered to you with an apology note attached to the stems. It was only natural for you to grant him the forgiveness he sought. Dismissing his actions was simple once you rationalized it as a normal reaction to an abundance of pressure. Diamonds may be created under pressure, but he was no diamond, and neither were you.

The second indication of his concealed doubts did not emerge from a set of actions, nor did it include the exchange of harsh words. Rather, it was his silence that nurtured your insecurities and provided you confirmation that while he was your happily-ever-after, you may not be his.

To celebrate Keiji’s 19th birthday, his mother had offered to host a gathering at his childhood home. When the details of the party were conveyed to you, excitement had fluttered to life inside of your stomach. It was the perfect opportunity to develop your relationship with the woman who had raised your wonderful boyfriend. Yet, not even the purest of intentions would save you from the humiliation that awaited you that night.

At one point of the evening, Keiji had vanished for a considerable amount of time. Naturally, you searched the house for your boyfriend. When you peaked inside of the kitchen, you found him engaging in a conversation with his mother. You almost called out to him instinctively, except your vocal cords denied you access when you caught the end of their conversation.  

“Has she been tending to your needs yet? Or has she remained as useless as before?” The older woman clutched the stem of her wine glass, with a scoff clawing at her throat. It seemed that the liquor coating her tongue had turned the muscular organ into a knife.

Keiji stood with his back pressed against the kitchen island, listening without a reaction. The nonchalance emanating from his demeanour indicated that this was not the first occurrence. No, this had happened before, otherwise he would have had some form of a reaction. A flinch – a twitch – anything. But he stood still, emotionless, distant. The targeting comments were equivalent to a whisper in the wind – not deserving of a response, nor a stir.

“Keiji, you are aware that you are wasting your time and yet you stay with her?” The sigh falling from her stained lips was extended to emphasize her distress, and the gentle sound was enough to weaken your knees.

No longer able to support your own weight, you leaned against the wall, allowing your eyelids to flutter shut. Your fingers tangled with the fabric of your shirt as you waited for his response.

Say something – anything. Just tell her she’s wrong.

Yet the denial never came.  

The first two indications were shoved aside, dismissed with excuses that would serve as a band-aid on your decaying relationship. But then came the third.

The third indication of his doubt occurred on an average college night when you were in the process of selecting your outfit for the night. Bokuto had arranged an unofficial Fukurodani reunion for the boy’s volleyball team. As Keiji’s girlfriend, the invite was naturally extended to you. Usually your boyfriend would be in higher spirits knowing that he would soon be in the company of his high school friends. But tonight, a frown remained etched into his features, not wavering for even a single moment.

“Which one? I don’t want to be underdressed. But on the other hand, Kou is always dressed really weird. So, I don’t know.” Two outfits were presented towards the male, a scarlet cocktail dress and a navy pantsuit with a low cut.

“Does it matter, y/n?” The sharp remark was blown out with a heavy sigh. It was as though he could not muster the energy to care for your feelings. Or perhaps, he simply chose to display his inner conflict, with no concern of the consequences of his decision.

The noise was startling enough to strip you of the excitement that once animated your movements.

“I guess not, but is it wrong that I want to look good for my boyfriend?” The counter question was voiced barely above a whisper, with each word sounding fainter than the last.

“Maybe if you knew me well enough you wouldn’t have to ask.” His eyes did not meet yours, rather they stayed fixed on the writing utensil within his grasp. “It’s not that hard, y/n. You just don’t care enough to put in the effort.”

The verbal assaults implanted daggers into your chest, but the pain would only become worse – since he was not done just yet.

“If you refuse to love me with your entire heart, what is the point? Let me go.”

“Keiji!” Pain cut along the inside of your throat from the shriek erupting from your chest. Had you ever screamed his name in quite a harsh manner? Liquid blurred your vision, and with your air-filled organs wheezing in distress, your words were stated between staggered breaths.

“I am not a fucking mind reader.” The fog of desperation encompassing you was comprised of poison, one that soon threaded throughout your system. The properties of the poison enflamed your lungs, burning the organs and halting the flow of air. Instinctively your hands were sent to your skin, clawing at the flesh as if you could simply rip out the emotions suffocating you. “Just because I don’t love you the way you think I should, doesn’t mean I don’t.” Whether the words spilling from your lips were responsible for the bitter taste in your mouth, or the tears now gracefully parading down your cheeks was unknown. Either way, the release of the steaming liquid eased the burning sensation in your lungs.

“I’m done, Keiji. I’m done.” Slowly claiming your insides was a thin layer of ice. By now, you had run out of excuses for his behaviour. There were no longer any band-aids you could use to tend to the wounds. The question of whether your boyfriend considered you “the one” was answered.

Despite the ache weaving into your muscles, your feet dragged you to the front door. A piece of you desired to catch one final glimpse of him – as your heart knew this would be the final time you would see him. But afraid you would lose your resolve to leave, you pressed the car keys against your palm, and remained fixed on the exit.

Behind you, the brunette voiced a weak apology – you were unable to catch the exact words, as they were muffled by the fabric of his sleeves. But not even the sweetest words could remedy the situation. Since, now you had accepted the truth.

Love was never a fairy-tale, and Akaashi Keiji was not a prince. Love would never be what you wanted it to be, and it would always hurt.

Love would always hurt.

A/N: I ended up finishing this today because I got into a bad mood and so I needed to channel it into something lol 

Taglist: @sayakaaaaaa @sanitisegermsfree @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop  @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut  @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz  @mismatched-loves @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @prettyforpapiiwa @swoonhui​ @neobakas​ @azumane-kun @elephantloser​ @dreamstormings​ @anejuuuuoy​   

~ message me to be removed from the general taglist + bolded means I can’t tag ya 

[katukutataka]

KH Theory: Kairi’s Grandparents

So last night Square Enix released the 4 new characters for Kingdom Hearts: Dark Road and everyone is flipping out. So am I since we’re all waiting for Dark Road to come out as well as other Kingdom Hearts games.

There’s already people throwing their theories and ideas that I thought I should tell mine as well before June 10, when we’ll be given a little more information. 

Based on the title of this post, I won’t be just talking about Kairi’s grandmother. 

Since the release of the photos and names of the new characters in the photograph, a lot of people are speculating that Kairi’s Grandmother could be Vor

[image provided by the Dark Road Twitter page]]

Now, Vor appears to be the youngest of the group in the photo. I say “appear” because if anime has taught me one thing, it’s that the seemingly young looking person is actually the oldest...But for this case, it could that Vor really is the youngest. 

Let’s just go with the latter for now. 

A lot of people on Twitter, Tumbr, Reddit, kh13.com and Youtube are theorizing that Vor could be Kairi’s grandmother. 

YouTuber HMK, ProdigyxCD, SHARKTANK, VTNVIVI, and others also agree with that theory, or at least point it out from their observations. Specifically because of the Norse meaning of Vor’s name.

[Name Information provided by Leamax on kh13.com]

So that would make sense as to how Kairi’s Grandma knew about the story of Light and Darkness that’s mention three times throughout the franchise:

1) Birth by Sleep: Kairi asked her grandmother to retell the story of Light and Darkness

2)Kingdom Hearts: Sora witnesses a flashback to Kairi and her grandma sitting in the Radiant Garden Library

3)Kingdom Hearts Unchained X: when you first download the game, a pop-up book version of Radiant Garden appears. Kairi and her grandmother are shown while the story of Light and Darkness appears in white text above.

If Nomura intends to use the meanings of the Norse names literally, then Vor has vast knowledge of not only Darkness, but also about Light. Maybe more so than Master Xehanort? 

“The gift of Providence” is interesting to me as the latter means “the protective care of God or of nature as a spiritual power”, “God or nature as providing protective or spiritual care”, “timely preparation for future eventualities” [Google Dictionary]. 

Could it be that Vor was preparing for what was to come around 75 to 85 years into the future? Could it be that she was going to prepare Kairi for the events that took place before KH1? 

Another thing that people are using as “evidence” is the similarity of Vor’s face to Kairi’s grandmother. More so about the smile and the eyes. 

People are saying that the smile between the two are very similar.

(i’m sorry about the small image. Literally just cropped it from the image provided by Dark Road Twitter page. Pic of Kairi’s grandma found on Google Images)

I suppose the smiles do look very alike, but it could be a trick of the eye and the inner desire of wanting this to somehow work is affecting us. 

The other thing that people are saying are similar are the eye colors:

On Vor’s image, her eyes are more green while Kairi’s grandmother is more blue. Indigo,if you’re picky. 

Now I know that sometimes the color of one’s eyes may “change” colors depending on how light hits it. For example, dark brown eyes can appear light brown in direct light or black in the shade. Green eyes tend to have to accent colors like a light brown, which is hazel-green eyes. Sometimes people will have a blue tint in them, blue-green eyes. Yellow is also seen in the mix. Sometimes when a baby has either green or blue eyes, it changes colors as they get older. It’s rare in those cases but still can happen. And yes, there are people with completely green eyes only even in adulthood. 

Given that this Tetsuya Nomura’s concept as well as the meaning of eye colors, the affiliation of Light and Darkness present in one’s heart can change their eye colors (and hair).

The main example of this is Young Xehanort, where he had silver eyes. But because of the Darkness, his eyes became more amber yellow. This has become a trend for fans to distinguish who are “good” and “bad”.

I will add in that that’s not the best way to tell if a person is good or bad as there are characters who have amber, yellow, light brown eyes.

So let’s break down the possibilities of the eyes between the 2 characters:

1) Vor’s eyes are green from a young age. However, if her eyes changed as she grew up, they became more blue, indigo colored, which is what Kairi’s grandmother has. 

2) If Light and Darkness are affiliated to the change of eye colors, then it’s possible that Vor’s eyes changed to more blue-indigo colored because of the abundance of Light (assuming).

3) It’s very possible that Vor and Kairi’s grandmother are TWO DIFFERENT women. Therefore, the color of the eyes mean nothing for the relation. 

The 3rd possibility would lead to “Master Ava is Kairi’s Grandmother Theory” and/or one of the many “Dandelions is Kairi’s Grandmother Theory”. 

Like, there’s so much that we don’t know about Kairi’s family and their backstory that many people, myself included, created fan-theories that relate to the Foretellers or the Dandelions somehow. Especially since the grandmother knows the story of Light and Darkness. 

I have an idea that I’m not sure if anyone else has spoken about on a media platform. If there are people out there that has a similar idea, please let me know so I can give credit! 

My idea banks off of Kairi’s GRANDFATHER. 

I know. A real stretch, but it could still be possible. Let me humor you. 

Let’s say the 3rd possibility is true: Vor and the grandmother are two different women. So, what of the grandfather? Who was he? Where was he? Did he pass of age or after The Fall of Radiant Garden? Who knows. Maybe Nomura didn’t think that far for Kairi or anyone’s family background...or did he? 

Anyway, if the grandfather is one of the Dandelions who avoided the war or is a disciple of the Dandelions, then he met the grandmother at some point, fell in love, married, had kids, then had a grandchild. During all that, it’s likely that the grandfather told the grandmother the story of Light and Darkness as a legend that will be passed down through the generations. 

Perhaps some of you thought of another person who’s also featured in the photograph:

Yup. I went there. I’m putting my idea that Bragi is potentially Kairi’s grandfather. 

I mean, his Norse meaning of the name is:

[Name definition provided by Leamax on kh13.com]

His name means “Poet”. Creative with his words with the knowledge of poems and songs, it’s likely he told told of the story of Light and Darkness the same way that Kairi’s grandmother told before. 

[Kairi’s grandmother story dialogue provided by u/blackdragoon747 on a reddit thread, “Kairi’s grandmother story (KH3 Theory) [Discussion]]

The story is told in a vague yet meaningful way. Something easy to tell the generations to come of what happened. Yes, I realize it ‘s not a poem so the relation between this and Bragi is small. But what if Bragi told the grandmother this version of the story because of how it was told to him by his Keyblade Master? Possibly the same Master who taught all 6 of them? 

I will admit that the Bragi’s orange hair is giving some “evidence” that he’s related to Kairi. It’s a stretch since the grandparents don’t have to have red hair to be related to Kairi. It’s likely that one of the Kairi’s birth parents had the same red hair color as her. I just wanted to throw that idea out there. 

I remember seeing an idea with art by laizy-boy (one of my favorite KH fanartist) where what if Xehanort was Kairi’s grandfather? Laizy-boy created Masako, an O.C. portrayed as Kairi’s grandmother, where she met Xehanort and Eraques when they were young. It’s hinted that Young(er) Xehanort had a crush on Masako in Laizy-boy’s artwork. If that was the case, then Master Xehanort was a fucked up grandfather to do what he did to Kairi in KH3. 

(I’m still salty that happened even if Kairi got her sweet revenge in Re:Mind!)

I wanted to mention that because I just remembered that and thought that if some people thought the possibility that Xehanort was Kairi’s grandfather, what about Bragi if not the former? 

There is notion that Hermod could also be a candidate, but I personally don’t think so? if you do, let me know! I’m always happy to hear what others think otherwise! 

There may be people who think that Urd is Kairi’s grandmother too, but I’m not sure. 

Anyways! This post is rather long as it is so i’ll end it here. Let me know what you all think! Send me your questions and I might make another post tomorrow after getting more info. 

[azwriting]

The Only Hope (Forget Me Please, Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader) - Chapter Two

A/N: FUCKING FINALLY!!! I’m so sorry that this took so long, life got a little crazy and yeah. But I think im back in business so yay! Anyways here’s chapter two, we are still in Rey’s POV but next chapter we will finally start delving into who’s under the mask ;) 

Also! I know Ben took his lightsaber and turned it into the cross guard one, but for the sake of my imagination and this story he just made a new one... Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Feedback is always appreciated ;)

Summary: The Resistance Three try to convince the mysterious Jedi ally to aid them in the fight against Palpatine. All while Rey begins to piece together some of the Jedi’s hidden past. 

Warning(s): Me retconning TROS, a made up species, angst, a moment that feels like Reylo but its not, Finnpoe rights baby

Word Count: 4658

“The dagger’s translation gave the coordinates for Kef Bir, we informed the General of where we were heading and she insisted we come here, to find you.” Rey finished explaining, her eyes darting across the faded and worn mask in search of any sort of response. All she found were stone cold eyes locked forward, observing the three of them. The woman was not even surprised to hear Palpatine had somehow survived and if she had, she showed no sign of it. If it had not been for the quick and overpowering assaults she had thrown at Rey earlier, the young Resistance fighter would have assumed she was a statue or perhaps a protocol droid.

The four of them sat around a small unlit chamber, in the dead center of all the huts above. There had been small villages on Jakku, ones that were primitive and rural, but this was entirely different. The forest moon of Endor was silent, no one passing through since the end of the old war. No trade, no work, no nothing. The planet appeared deserted in a sense. One would grow to suspect it held a secret, as does every corner of the Galaxy, but Rey suspected this secret was far greater than what her eyes could see.

Finn and Poe sat stiffly unsure of the ally while Rey was just dumbfounded. She had been led to believe that all the Jedi, besides Master Skywalker, had died in the destruction of the new Jedi Order at the hands of Kylo Ren. Yet the woman across from her wielding not one, but two lightsabers proved otherwise.

Had this woman even been present at the Jedi temple? If so, how had she survived? How did General Organa know her? What did the purple kyber crystal represent? Why was her face hidden behind a mask? What was her name? Rey had far too many questions and nowhere enough answers. Nor did they have the time…

“Kef Bir?” The woman inhaled sharply, her posture straightening. Her head dropped down for a moment before the emotionless eyes met their gaze once again. There was a quick gleam of emotion hidden in them, but Rey could not read it. The subtle reaction made her nervous though, what was awaiting them on Kef Bir?

“I don’t know how I’ll be of help there.” She was right, Rey did not know what to expect there or if they would even need the Jedi’s help, but Leia had sent them here. Rey knew this ally was of importance, she could feel it through the Force, and Leia had known this too. The woman in the mask was strong with the Force, it flowed through her like a vivacious stream. It was why the forest moon had felt so utterly rich when she had first arrived, the mask creating it all.

Although Rey could still feel an abundance of energy, that felt far away as if it had been hidden behind a thick black cloak, hidden from plain sight. She was unsure how to describe it, but it felt distant, out of reach, guarded. Despite whatever Rey felt, it was clear that the last Jedi could be of tremendous help in whatever they faced.

“I don’t know either, but General Organa knew we’d need help and she sent us to you, you may be our only hope to prevent Palpatine’s Final Order.” Rey confessed, a gentle plea evident in her tone. She could not defeat the vile Emperor herself, many had tried and failed in doing so. The mask stood abruptly, eyes narrowing down at her.

“I’m nobody’s last hope, I’m sorry but I can’t help.” She moved to leave, but Poe caught her upper arm and roughly yanked her back. Sharp eyes turned back to glare at him in disbelief over his sudden actions, but Poe ignored it.

“Why? Why won’t you help?” The woman tugged her arm free and took a cautious step back, but Rey suspected it was so she did not harm the pilot, not the other way around.

“It’s just an endless cycle. I was born into a Galaxy still healing from the Empire and I’ve lived long enough to see something take its place.” The woman winced inwardly, eyes playing an endless amount of suppressed horrors. “You may defeat Palpatine and his Final Order, but what about the First Order? What about the next ones seeking total power or the ones after that?”

Her questions had them all looking off in thought. The Resistance was barely equipped to stop the First Order, how would they continue to prevent others from attempting to rise and suffocate the remaining freedom out of the Galaxy? It was an easy answer, one that left a bitter aftertaste in their mouths, they would not. “The Galaxy will never know peace, I’ve accepted that.” The somber tone that slipped into the modulated voice caused Rey to question if this woman truly had accepted such a dreary fate. The blank (Y/E/C) skipped across each of their faces before resting on Rey’s. “It’s time you do too.”

The woman spun on her heel and was quick to leave. The three Resistance members watched in silence, in disbelief, a look of stupor on their faces. Why would General Organa send them here if this ally would only refuse to help? There was only so much time before Palpatine released his doomsday upon the Galaxy. Rey’s stomach twisted at the sinking in reality, how was she supposed to save the Galaxy alone? Kylo would only want to assume the position, the vacancy the Emperor would leave behind and the woman refused to help, chalking it up to an already doomed attempt. They would be alone in this fight and they would lose.

Rey was truly as alone as she had been on Jakku.

The peculiar sound of birds chirping broke through the silent forest. The mysterious ally froze mid stride, head snapping up to the thick lush tree coverage. Rey’s eyes followed, searching for the source of the sweet call. The sound reminded her of a much softer, sweeter, musical rendition of the wind chimes constructed from useless scavenged parts that she had had hanging inside her small home on Jakku. When the rare dry breeze of the desert swept through the interior of the fallen AT-AT walker, the rusted parts would clink together and fill her ears with a choppy noise that signified to her that one day she would find her belonging. Her already twisted stomach dropped at the realization that she had not found that belonging yet, not with the Resistance nor with the ways of the Jedi.

The chorus continued on for a moment longer before slowly dying off leaving the forest and the four of them surrounded by an uncanny stillness. With the absence of the melodic sing-song of the birds, Rey pondered if the sound served as the same hopeful reminder to the lonesome Jedi. With the unwavering rigidness of the woman’s stature, Rey began to believe it did.

“Wait-” Poe started before cutting himself off. He hummed the melody of the birds to himself over and over again until his narrowed eyes lifted with confusion. “That was the call of the Dalae.” He announced, head snapping back to look at Rey and Finn.

“Okay and you know this why?” Finn questioned lifting his one eyebrow, unsure where his significant other was heading with such odd information and how he knew it. Rey was curious too, especially as to why the pilot felt compelled to inform them of such a thing now when their only possible assistance was leaving.

The woman was still frozen in place though, but her head now held onto the moist and moss covered ground. The Force swirled around her as she seemed to be focusing inward, her hands clenching and unclenching as she grappled with some internal conflict. Whatever this bird was, the harmony it had emitted greatly unsettled her.

“When I was undercover on Kijimi posing as a Spice Runner to obtain intel on the First Order’s weapon dealings, I had a lot of spare time. Read a lot.” Poe explained stepping closer to the two. Rey was still reeling in the fact that Poe had been a Spice Runner even if it was to help the Resistance. She was even more baffled that he had not told her or Finn about this covert mission. “Educated myself on various species across the Galaxy and the Dalae bird was one of them.”

As he moved closer, Rey did not miss the way the mask discreetly peered over her left shoulder at them. Even in a state of concentration, she still was aware. Although with multiple points to focus on, her once hidden aura started to bleed through, revealing her state of mind to Rey. She was anxious, tense, and something else Rey could not put a finger on. The woman’s body trembled slightly, the thin hairs on the back of her neck stood up, goosebumps erupting across the rest of her skin despite the layers she wore. Her heart was racing and over the quiet hum of the forest, Rey could hear the distorted and labored breaths that escaped the mask.

Fearful… the word bounced around Rey’s already cluttered mind as she came to the conclusion as to what the other emotion that had seeped through to her was. The woman who had single handedly taken her down with an unforeseeable and unparalleled skill was scared? What did she have to be fearful of? Was it them and their uprooting of her life here in this forest? Was it the looming and imminent threat of Palpatine? Or was it the past that was hidden beneath the fading paint of the mask and the barrier of two crossed lightsabers? Rey was not naive, she knew the mask hid more than a face, but she was unsure as to what.

As quick as the Jedi’s aura had slipped through, it disappeared. In an instant, Rey felt the overpowering emotions retract with the simple action of tightening a clenched fist. Besides for her curling fists, the woman was still locked in place fighting her inner turmoil, one Rey could not decipher.

“Okay Babe, this is great that you educated yourself about this stuff, really it is, but I don’t think now is the best time to brief us on all your bird knowledge.” Finn attempted to terminate Poe’s somewhat delirious ranting, something Rey had begun to tune out. Perhaps the injury he had acquired on the Star Destroyer was beginning to get to him.

Poe only shook his head in defiance, he was never one to back down from expressing himself, especially when he believed it to be of dire importance. Whatever he knew of this bird, the Dalae, Poe knew it was essential to share and be heard. No matter how inopportune the timing was…

“The Dalae bird is only native to one place and I’ll give you a hint it’s not the forest moon of Endor…” Poe trailed off, eyes skimming the surrounding trees for the incongruous bird.

“What do you mean? Where is it from?” Finn probed, his thick eyebrows furrowing once again. Rey’s did as well, but she remained silent. Her mind was a whirling disaster filled to the brim with possible catastrophes, her newly illuminated origin, and the hopes of saving a dying religion. She did not have room to digest the curiosity behind a migrating species.

“The Nayli countryside.”

Rey’s eyes snapped up, the stories she had heard over the course of the last year replaying in her mind. The General had told her many stories of how she used to visit the quieter countryside, Nayli, when she could spare time away from the fragile rebuilding of the New Republic. “Of Chandrila?”

Poe nodded reading her visible shock, “Yes. So what is a bird only native to a planet in the Core Worlds doing in the Outer Rim?” Rey and Finn exchanged a look, Poe was right. What was it doing out here? Especially a bird from the former capital of the New Republic. The former home to the General, Han, and their son…

Their internal inquiries were soon brought to a screeching halt though. “Let me get my things and then we can be on our way.” The three Resistance fighters spun to face the direction the modified voice had called to them. The woman now stood tall, hands unclenched, and head locked straight forward on them. She nodded rapidly confirming her words more to herself than to them before she took off back towards the small huts. Three pairs of eyes followed her, neither one fully processing the meaning of her statement. The Jedi would be coming with them Rey realized, she was going to help them. Perhaps Leia had been right to send them here.

Rey watched as the woman launched herself off the dirt ground and landed onto one of the many hovering bridges, only to disappear into a small hut to her right. As the small wooden door closed behind the body of green and brown fabrics, Rey began to ponder why the sudden change in the ally. The woman had been reluctant to help, seemingly accepting the inevitable defeat against Palpatine and his new Empire, but something had changed. As a cool breeze swept through the surrounding woods, the leaves brustling loudly in the trees up above, Rey recalled the terror that had frozen the ally in place… all beginning with the call of the Dalae bird.

Ewoks were… not what Rey expected. As she leaned against the rough bark of a towering tree awaiting for their new companion to return, she finally caught a glimpse of the legendary warriors who fought in the Battle of Endor. Yes the tales had spoken of a small indigenous tribe that had aided the Rebels, but the young scavenger had never realized it referred to their stature. Details like such often disappeared as the stories spread across the Galaxy. For Maker’s sake she had thought Luke Skywalker, the Jedi, and the Force were all a myth. Yet, it was all true and she had become a part of it as she embarked on her own journey.

Rey witnessed as the woman, her face still obscured by the mask, emerged from her small hut up above. Even walking on swaying lumber bridges, the ally moved with an indescribable grace and balance, features that bled through into her fighting style.

The ally bent down before two Ewoks and even though she was beneath them, Rey could still hear bits of dialogue. Although they spoke in Ewokese, a language Rey did not understand, she remained silent and eavesdropped as the three conversed. As she listened Rey could not help but wonder how long the woman had been here and why she was here in the first place. It was clear she was the only human on the moon, but it seemed like that had been a purposeful choice. Rey had been left all alone as a child, sold and abandoned, it was hard for her to imagine someone consciously making the choice to be alone. It was the one thing she never wanted to be…

“Protect.” A single word in Galactic Basic slipped through the cracks in the bridge, a word uttered by the mask. Rey focused back onto the three above and found the Ewoks to be nodding before the woman abruptly stood back to her full height. With one swift jump, the Jedi descended down towards Rey just as she had done when they had first stumbled upon the small village. The ally landed perfectly on her feet just a few steps in front of Rey, (Y/E/C) eyes focused as always.

“Where are the other two?” She alone had stayed to wait, Finn and Poe returning to the Falcon to prepare for the next stop on Kef Bir. Her voice sounded on edge, but it was possible to be just from her descent or the heavy modification of the mask. Although Rey noted the way the eyes bounced around the surrounding bridges in apprehension.

“They went back to ready the ship.” Rey answered and the woman’s chest collapsed as she let out a large exhale. What was she so fearful over? The ally was very guarded, unwillingly to trust anyone. A hand shot out and gestured for Rey to lead the way and silently the two women began their trek back to the Falcon, leaving the Ewok village behind.

The quiet fresh air of the moon encompassed them on their walk as well as total silence, but Rey could not help but glance over at the woman every so often. With such a close proximity, one where they were not attacking each other, she could not assimilate the overwhelming energy that flowed from the other Jedi.

Three words echoed through her mind and Rey shuttered. The three words had been spoken to her once during her attempt to reach out and connect with the Jedi of the past. Now they haunted her mind and plagued her sleep, never leaving her conscience peacefully. As she looked to the Force user beside her, Rey wondered if the woman knew how to help. The idea was quickly squandered, the voice had told her to restore it, it was solely up to her.

A glimmer of light reflected up and into Rey’s eyes, making the young woman wince slightly. Her brown eyes looked down and caught sight of the two lightsabers strapped to the side of the woman’s hip. One hilt was a darker gray durasteel with a black handle and the other was a silver durasteel with blue, purple, and orange coloring near the emitter. It was strangely familiar, the all silver one, something she had seen before in a dream.

Before her voice of reason could object to the impulse that flared up within, Rey’s hand hastily reached forward for the saber. As the tip of her fingers grazed against the cold hilt, flames bloomed behind her eyes and screams flooded her ears.

With a heavy gasp, Rey stumbled back in terror. The high morning sun sunk into the horizon being replaced by the pitch black night sky, full of a plethora of stars. The tall dense trees that surrounded her plunged to the ground revealing an open plain filled with small huts. One hut in front of her had been destroyed, crumbled into just a pile of rubble. Rey’s chest tightened and she felt a wave of nausea overcome her at the sight of it. It deeply unsettled her, made it feel as if something crawled up her cold and damp skin. Deep down she knew where she was, what she was looking at, but she was unwilling to believe it. She had just been on Endor how had she gotten here?

Screams broke through her disorientated state, pulling Rey away from the ruined hut. Off in the distance stood a grand temple surrounded by stone statues and pillars, a large dome in the center of the sacred framework. Her lips parted in shock as she realized the temple was encased with thick tendrils of fire. Even from where she stood Rey could hear the desperate pleas for help. She raced towards the flames before she could even think to command herself to move… it was as if something else entirely controlled her.

Dashing through the tall grass, Rey rushed towards the people in dire need of assistance but her attempt to help was quickly stopped. Long arms hooked around her waist, yanking her back and into a strong hard chest. The lightsaber she had not been aware of slipping through the fingers of her dominant hand.

“No Rey, I can’t lose you too!”

Rey’s blood ran cold, goosebumps erupting across her skin as if she was back on Starkiller base in her scrappy scavenger attire. She knew this voice, knew the desperation woven into the words, it haunted her dreams too. Twisting in the tight embrace, she turned to face her impediment.

Flushed chest to chest, Rey looked up to find frightened watery eyes looking down at her. She knew these brown irises and the hints of green speckles that were hidden in them, she knew the eyes of Ben Solo. They were filled to the brim with sadness, fear, and pain. She had seen these emotions in his eyes before; after he had killed his father, in the hut on Ahch-To, and when he had taken off his mask before her on the Star Destroyer. Yet, she had never seen them like this before; with traces of love interlaced in them.

“I tried to, b-but the fire’s too strong.” He choked out. His breathing was ragged, he was scared, and looking down at her as if she was the only thing that could save him from the torment inside. Fresh tears escaped his eyes and trickled down his ash covered face, his lips trembled as they parted and his whole body shook against hers. He was shaken to core and desperately seeking comfort, her comfort. “I never-” Ben stuttered out but his voice cracked with despair. “I didn’t want this.”

The fire behind felt like an afterthought as Rey reached upward and pressed both of her palms to Ben’s dampened face. Slowly she stroked soft comforting circles onto his skin and he let out a breath of relief. “I know. I know you didn’t but Ben! We need to help them!” The words that slipped from Rey’s mouth were not her own. Her actions were not her own. No, it was as if they were preordained, done by another through her.

The cries for help only seemed to grow and Rey snapped out of the trance that Ben had put her under. She struggled against his secure grip, feeling the undeniable cool durasteel of a saber pressed against her back despite the kiss of heat from the fire that licked up her back. She needed to help, she could not turn her back on them.

Ben’s arms suddenly released her and Rey felt the warmth of one of his palms press against her cheek. Her face was wet, she was crying as well. They were both in agony over something she did not know, something she had never experienced.

With a sharp inhale, the night faded away and the sun of Endor fell back into its rightful place in the sky above. Rey’s gut twisted as she tried to comprehend it all. She knew that she should not have touched the saber, she had learned that on Takodana what felt like a lifetime ago. But, she could not focus on that, not with what she had seen and experienced. Rey had not been there for the fall of the New Jedi Order, she had not been stopped in her attempt to help the other students, but someone else had been.

Rey’s eyes lifted up and away from the silver lightsaber to find the woman watching her intently. Traces of long buried pain surfaced in the tears pooling in the last Jedi’s magnetic eyes. “That lightsaber…” Rey’s voice was no louder than a whisper. “It belonged to someone else.” She did not dare say his name, pain that was not hers seemed to blend into her own making her heart wrench. The ally shuddered in response, tears slipping down into the depths of the mask.

“Why would you have his saber?”

As the question left Rey’s mouth, it dawned on her what she had encountered when touching the lightsaber, his lightsaber. It was a memory, the woman’s memory. She had experienced the heartbreaking night from the woman’s perspective that was why she had had no control over her actions and words. The ally and him had been close, the Force flowing strongly through them both, forging an uncanny connection. It had felt like life itself…

Rey’s eyes widened and her mouth grew dry at the realization, “You’re- you’re his balance.” Their fight only a short while ago came to mind and the familiar movements of the Jedi. She was all confident strikes, agile deflects, her attacks lying somewhere between the cross of a graceful dancer and feral animal. A way she had only seen Kylo Ren move.

The woman’s eyes narrowed swiftly and she stepped forward. Her stature was imposing as she looked down at Rey, making her feel as if she was a young scavenger again who had not brought back satisfactory parts for Unkar. “No, you don’t know anything. Those padawans are dead. There is no balance.” Her words were harsh and brimming with vulnerability just as her (Y/E/C) eyes were. As if her thoughts had been heard, the woman’s hand sprung up and closed her visor, locking away the only window into her soul Rey had. The mask quickly pivoted and stalked away, heading for the Falcon.

Rey stared after her, mentally digesting everything that had just happened. Kylo had said his balance had died and that was why the Force had connected them, her power being the only one to match his. Yet, this woman was very much alive, brimming with Force sensitivity, and hidden away in the forest of Endor. A fact the Supreme Leader did not know and Rey knew that was intentional. The woman and him had been close, she could sense it, could see it in the way he looked at her the night of the fire. Ben had looked at her with such compassion, held onto her with such need, stopped her from running into danger. The memory, the woman’s memory, replayed in Rey’s mind and she could now see that it had not been her hands touching Ben’s face, not her voice speaking to him, not her name that he had called out in fear.

“No (Y/N), I can’t lose you too!”

“Your name, I heard him speak it.” Rey called after the Jedi, the woman who’s name she now knew. She was uncertain as to why she felt compelled to tell her of her insight, maybe because the young Resistance fighter wanted to prove that she did in fact know something. It was an unwise decision though, to provoke such a powerful Force user.

The ally ceased in her steps, swinging back around with such ferocity, Rey gulped. With the visor closed all she could see was her reflection in the mask. The helmet was cold and distant without the small opening, reminding Rey of a Stormtrooper, or a Knight of Ren, or even Kylo himself… an enemy. This woman was not supposed to be her enemy, no they were allies, brought together by the General and perhaps even the Force.

“And if you were wise, you wouldn’t.” The woman instructed, voice nothing but hostile. She turned once again and left, heading towards the direction Rey had appointed.

Touching the saber and revealing a piece of her buried past had struck a nerve in their already defensive ally. Turning her from guarded and reserved to cold and bitter. Rey’s eyebrows furrowed, she had touched Ben’s saber and saw a memory from the woman’s perspective. She had to be the balance Kylo spoke of, Rey could still feel the phantom attachment the two had in the past. A bond…

Like she had been caressed by a ghost, a chill bit up Rey’s neck as her mind began to repeat the three words the Force had spoken to her months ago. The three words the Force had whispered to her as she searched for a balance. Only when she would repair it then balance could be found within the Force. She had believed that the Jedi could help her in restoring what she had to, but what if this woman, (Y/N), was one half of the broken piece?

Taglist: @2heures @thephantomwriter @thefandomzoneisdangerous @carol-chann @gambitsqueen @pancakefancake @zaneholtzwrites @moonprincess003

@siren-queen03​ @dixonsbugaboo​ @keithseabrook27​ @minluc​ @vampgguk​ @nhievyenne​ @robindoesntloveme​

[lokidiabolus]

The Deal - Bonus

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

or

The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I swear NOW it’s done lmao.

Unbetad!

2024, 275th day

It was rather unexpected to see this kind of development, when it came to the form Anthony took in Hell. When Alastor gave it some thought here and there (more often than he would admit, granted), he could imagine Anthony as some sort of cat demon the most. There was something feline about the man when alive – the unpredictability maybe? He wasn’t sure.

So when the Hell opened to swallow yet another sinner – and the sinner was his beau – his expectations were about everywhere but in what he actually saw once he located the trembling creature in the Pentagram outskirts.

A spider demon. White as fallen snow, but covered in his own blood, six arms and two long, long legs and tear stained face, trembling in Alastor’s arms like a frightened child. The last few months of Anthony’s life were fluctuating and the more Alastor had to stay in Hell to deal with Vox, the more Anthony’s light was dimming, and Alastor knew that, he saw what was happening, how the will was weakening and the desire to join him here winning over. A selfish, petty part of him thought good, finally, come to me but at the same time Anthony was young, so, so young to die, it made him indecisive and when was the last time he felt like that? If ever? Not even during his own life and death he never doubted, but with Anthony… he wanted him to be his without remorse. No regrets, no sadness over his life ending.

But now here he was. Finally calming down, the trembling subsiding, the pain from his face easing away until he was just resting in Alastor’s arms, breathing deeply. An adorable spider, caught in the web of his own inner demons… maybe it was fitting.

***

“You are pouting for an hour already.”

“I’m sorry to rain on yer parade, but I’m a fuckin’ spider monster,” Anthony flashed him an unhappy sneer and glared at his reflection in the mirror for umpteenth time, his eyes narrowing, sharp teeth baring just to growl and turn away from it once more. “Who fuckin’ picks this? What did I do to deserve bein’ a six-armed horror?!”

“But imagine how good are you going to be at hugging,” Alastor couldn’t stop himself from grinning, even though Anthony was clearly distressed by his new look, but there was simply no reason to be. He was such an adorable creature, white and pink and soft and cushy. If he wasn’t walking around like a ticking bomb, swearing at each step, Alastor would definitely be trying the new cuddle arrangement. But there was time for everything.

There was eternity for them now.

“I could hug with two arms just fine!”

“Maybe I would like to be hugged with six,” Alastor shot back, which stopped Anthony in his stomping with a defeated sigh.

“But… spider,” he whined, gesturing to his lanky body and abundance of limbs, and ironically all Alastor could see was a cute pouty face and dangerous claws he honestly found threateningly appealing – all six clawed hands with them. Anthony just couldn’t see past the shock yet, but Alastor had means to make him so.

“And a deer,” the red-eyed demon smiled at him from the table he was sitting behind.

“All ya have is a cute Bambi tail and ears, big deal,” Anthony rolled his eyes – his unevenly coloured eyes, Alastor mentally added, which was fascinating – and glanced down at his feet with a frown.

“If that is all you can see, then I suppose I am a lucky man,” Alastor tapped on one of the radios near him and smooth jazz started playing. True, he never had a single issue with his demonic appearance, even when he first arrived here. At this regard he was always a perfectionist, so all of him the others could see was perfectly tailored to show his dominance. Nothing about him was cute, no matter what Anthony was saying. Not the tail, not the ears. He was an Overlord, demons feared him.

Well, except of this particular case, that is. But Anthony was special, he was allowed.

“Oh yeah, I forgot, handsome guys are scary as fuck,” Anthony grumbled, but there was some sort of playfulness in his voice, which signalized his mood was getting better. “Pretty sure all demons just run at sight of ya, oh nooo. Pretty guy inbound, ruuuuun~.”

“They do run though,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly. “Different circumstances though.”

“Yer dad jokes, huh,” the pretty spider smirked at him, softening the rudeness. “Don’t blame them.”

“Now now, Anthony,” Alastor tapped his claws against the table, stopping any other eventual teasing that would definitely follow, because Anthony never left things at only one jab when he had a chance. “If you are done with your moping, how about you come here?”

There was an evident hesitation in the demon’s features, insecurity written in his whole body language, but Alastor was patient and willing to show him there was nothing to feel insecure about. Only proud.

He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing, and Anthony let out a squeak when a pair of shadowy hands curled around his waist, gently pushing him forward like walking a child on the first day out.

“Aww, hi Al Junior,” Anthony cooed back at the Shadow, which gave him a raggedy grin in return. Evidently too happy to see him, that for sure. Even more evidently appreciative about Anthony’s new look as well. “Haven’t seen ya both in one room yet, that’s new.”

The Shadow waddled him all the way to Alastor’s desk and nuzzled his neck from behind, obviously delighted about the experience. Anthony patted him with one of the six hands, still not that good at coordinating them all, apparently, and Alastor cleared his throat while tapping against the table again.

One more nuzzle and then the shadow slithered away, blending into the walls, and Alastor would have sworn if it could, it would stick its tongue at him.

“Hehe,” Anthony looked happy though, which was amendable, and then finally circled the mahogany desk and stood next to Alastor comfortably sitting in his chair. He let himself to be touched on his thin waist, lower on his hip, then back up on his chest – fluffy chest, if anybody asked, so, so fluffy – and then let Alastor took one of his hands and gently pull him on his lap, sitting on his legs carefully like he could shatter any moment.

“There~,” Alastor crooned. “Not that hard, was it?”

“Might be even easier with the voice,” Anthony suggested meekly, like he was asking for something risky, and Alastor circled one of his arms around his waist and touched his face with the other.

“Whateva you want, darlin’,” he spoke softly and Anthony’s smile widened. “Feelin’ better now?”

“Yeah…” the spider demon nodded curtly. “Still weird, but I’ll get over it.”

“Don worry, I’ll be there fer you every step on da way,” Alastor tilted his head down and gently pressed their lips together. “Promise.”

He was right – six armed hugs were absolute heaven.

***

2024, 277th day

“Huh.”

Alastor took several more steps before he realized Anthony stopped all of sudden, staring at the vending machine sitting between dark corners of dubious streets filled with vermin. He was staring at the lowest button, head tilted, and Alastor returned to him with a silent question in his eyes.

Not that Anthony noticed, his eyes were glued to the vending machine with something akin to wonder, and when Alastor glanced down at the point of the spider’s interest, he noticed Angel Dust written there in all italics.

“Fuckin’ swell, huh,” Anthony mumbled more to himself than to Alastor, judging from his expression. “That this would be here too.”

Alastor knew how Anthony died, of course he did. PCP overdose might have come as a surprise, but at the same time they talked about it when Anthony’s heart was still beating. His coping mechanism, his addiction, his attachment to something that could ease the state of despair. If Vox didn’t get in Alastor’s way, maybe there would be a possibility to prolong his life for few more years.

But then again Alastor would be lying if he said he regretted having Anthony here with him, finally. He wasn’t that much of a good guy for playing a Good Samaritan (if even a little, honestly), and if Anthony wasn’t in such a bad state at the beginning of their deal, he would probably (definitely) drag him to Hell right away, especially after being asked to be killed from the get go.

“Anything you can think of,” Alastor commented. “Any drug. Any alcohol. Any poison. Any weapon. It is all here. And worse.”

“Hell yeah,” Anthony chuckled bitterly and averted his eyes from the nameplate, little raw at the edges, vulnerable. Still so new, still so open. “Oh well. Sorry. Let’s go.”

Alastor made sure they didn’t pass any other vending machine on their way back to the Radio Tower.

***

2024, 285th day

It wasn’t like he wanted to make a habit of spying on Anthony, but once the spider demon left the tower on his own and ventured to the city, he had his reasons to make sure he would make it back home in one piece. Barely any demon would notice the shadow of a person was different unless really looking, and he kind of doubted Anthony would meet anybody like that on his first independent stroll anyway.

There wasn’t much the spider had planned, from the way he behaved outside. He just wandered around, peeking into shops and avoiding trouble, then peeking into more shops, got some clothes and then practiced his totally not six armed spider act when he managed to hide the middle set of arms like they were never there. Alastor didn’t know he could actually do that, but he was impressed anyway.

He had several cat-calling demons around whistling at him while skilfully flipping them off, and in case they wouldn’t be deterred, the Shadow blinked at them menacingly and they scuttered to dark corners like filthy rats.

It was nothing out of ordinary until a dark purple limo stopped at the edge of the sidewalk he walked on, pulling down the window just to reveal the Princess of Hell herself smiling nervously, calling at Anthony in her bright princess-y voice. Now that was interesting for sure.

“Hey,” Anthony blinked in surprise at her sudden invitation to get in, obviously not having a single clue who the girl was. “Daddy told me not to talk to strangers.”

Alastor totally did not choke on that.

The princess laughed, bright and happy and shook her head while opening the doors of the limo wide open.

“We won’t do anything bad,” she assured him, and there was another girl next to her in the car, though Alastor had never met her. Her displeased expression was spot on though. The princess dragged her closer, leaning her near the opening of the doors. “I’m Charlie, this is Vaggie! We just want to talk a little?”

“Ya can talk with me standing right ‘ere,” Anthony crossed all his four arms, eyes looking her up and down, not budging. “Whaddya want?”

“Weeeeell-,”

“What is your name, mister?” Vaggie stared him down pointedly, her voice sharp as a knife. Anthony visibly hesitated, then glanced away to the rest of the street. They talked about it shortly after Anthony got to Hell – not everybody wanted to keep their human name. Alastor did because he was not a fan of aliases, The Radio Demon nickname just happened on its own. Anthony didn’t seem to be in need of getting any kind of demon name either, but now there was an obvious reluctance in his features.

“Angel Dust,” he looked back at them, the drug name slipping past his lips. Intriguing. “Ya can call me Angel, toots.”

Vaggie didn’t look impressed but Charlie was smiling like a sunshine. When they started spouting nonsense about rehabilitating a demon in one of a repurposed royal family’s buildings, Alastor laughed so hard he almost let the Shadow spill it out.

It was only an hour later when Angel burst into the Radio Tower, dropped the shopping bags and yelled:

“Ya won’t fuckin’ believe what I’m just gonna tell ya, I shit ya not!”

Just few days later the 666 News broadcasted Charlie’s plan live (with an immense failure in the reception, but that was expected) and Alastor got a brilliant idea. Out of everybody involved, Charlie was probably on the board of it the most.

***

2024, 300th day

The hotel was a whack. It was a total fucking ruin in dire need of reconstruction. Angel didn’t know what the hell was repurposed here, but it must have been hiding in a basement because the rest of it screamed ancient. Not that any part of Hell was pretty or anything, but at least some of it had class. Ironically the most class was visible in the Lust circle in porn studios, but Angel was not getting even near of that filthy lair, that for sure (not to mention Alastor didn’t even let him wander too close, probably for a good reason. Said something about moths. Angel didn’t question it).

Niffty made a bit more presentable though, scurrying around the hallways like a sonic Roomba and at least the entrance hall looked nicer once Alastor was done with it.

Alastor The Radio Demon, Angel learned. An Overlord even. Vaggie was super into telling him how bad and evil and absolute horror-ish Alastor was, how bloodthirsty and merciless, and Angel just thought of his Bambi tail wagging when they hugged and kind of spaced out.

Sure, guy had a reputation. Angel saw some flattering posters in the 666 News studios with BEWARE !!! HIM and RADIO SOUNDS = STAY AWAY and DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM but if Alastor was anything, a cuddler would be the right description. Also probably a cold-hearted murderer, but nobody was perfect.

He told the girls he was new and had barely any kind of comprehension of Hell’s inner workings back there when they stopped in in the city, and obviously that immediately must have raised red flags when he got to the Hotel just few days later with Alastor leading him in and keeping him close like a pet on an invisible leash (though not really a pet, Angel was just super amused by the height difference, so he stuck close to him for shit and giggles).

“You can stay here, Angel,” Charlie was just telling him in a shushed whisper when they walked through the hallways, Alastor several steps in front of them, looking around with wide smile on his face. Fucker was definitely enjoying it, but even Angel felt rather giddy about it.

“Here?” he imitated her low voice and she quickly glanced towards Alastor humming a tune and twirling his microphone.

“You know. If you need a place to stay,” she gestured towards the deer demon quickly.

Oh. Oh. She thought he feared Alastor or something? Or that Alastor kept him around against his will? A big bad Overlord and a newbie, what else would she think, right?

“Can’t do, Cha-Cha, made a deal with this guy,” he made finger guns pointed at the red-clothed figure with his all four arms. “Hands are tied.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s eyes widened for a second, like she was saying oh no, you fucked for good, gurl and then hesitantly nodded. “I see. But… I mean. It depends on the deal, of course, but… If you needed to stay away or something, you understand?”

“I fear that just won’t do, my dear!” Alastor’s voice thundered through the hallway cheerily, loud as fuck, even though he was standing few meters away from them. “I own his heart, you see. He cannot leave even if he wanted to.”

Charlie’s eyes widened even more, and Angel had to bite his lips to stop himself from laughing. How fucking vague, just playing it like Angel was suffering in the Radio Demon presence.  

“Isn’t that right, my dear Angel?”

“Oh yes, poor me,” the spider demon swooned dramatically. “Can’t leave ever! He’d totally find me and cu-,” ddle me to death, he wanted to say, Alastor’s eyes warning him not to, “-t me to death! Double death even.”

Charlie started to visibly panic. Oh damn, she was so naïve, it was fun.

“Do not be alarmed, princess,” Alastor assured her with a chuckle. “No cutting needed. Angel is quite knowledgeable in his duties.”

“Pffft.”

“Aren’t you, my dear.”

“’bsolutely,” Angel saluted him. “Controlled by fear and fear only.”

There was a mischievous gleam in Alastor’s eyes right before he turned around and continued his way through the raggedy hotel, resuming the tune. Angel patted the small woman on the top of her head, but still wasn’t sure if she got it was all a joke or she unironically feared for his life.

***

2024, 304th day

She feared for his life. She kept on trying to get him to stay overnight in the hotel for therapies and fun activities and movie nights and Angel was wondering how to break it out to her without revealing Alastor was a big softie who liked to snuggle in bed (and honestly he liked it even more now, in Hell, and Angel was wondering if it was because he was fluffier or because Alastor was just happy he didn’t need to keep fearing if he didn’t leave the stove or lights on in Radio Tower when up in the land of living).

From all he gathered during the days he spent in Hell by now, Alastor was a big thing around the Pentagram City. As one of the Overlords and one not hellborn on top of that he harnessed tremendous power through fear, his shady as fuck deals and radio broadcasts where he delivered the carnage for everybody to hear. Angel didn’t listen to any yet, but he was sure he would eventually, when Alastor would feel like letting him on it.

“She thinks yer abusing me,” he said while petting the red hair gently, lying on his back in the bed. The red sheets were silky and felt really nice around him and he doubted Alastor owned anything that was not red or black, like a walking, talking stereotype. Classy though.

“I am abusin’ you,” Alastor agreed from Angel’s fluffy chest, where his face was buried. He had been cuddling Angel for the past hour, like it was one of those days when he didn’t feel like being big bad deer and just stayed in the tower, making Angel spoil him. Then there were days he didn’t feel like being touched at all, unless it was at night when sleeping, and Angel was starting to be a real pro in reading those moods in his natural environment. Sometimes Al Junior gave him a hint even before Alastor appeared in flesh, and it was appreciated. Alastor wasn’t really making a big fuss when touched in his untouchable mood but the way he stiffened was red enough light for Angel to give him space.

“Yeah, yer a menace, I need to pee for like twenty minutes now,” Angel sighed and his poor bladder with him.

“Unfortunate.”

“Well, it’s yer bed I’m gonna pee in, so suit yerself,” he shrugged and Alastor huffed out a laugh. It was nice he could laugh at Angel’s crude jokes now, since before he just told him off.

“Don worry ‘bout the demon belle,” Alastor mumbled sleepily. “She’s just too nice fer her own good.”

“Aw, she’s a cutie tho,” Angel pulled a little at Alastor’s ear and it flicked. “Enthusiastic and all that shit, I guess ye don’t see that down here often.”

“Barely,” Alastor hummed.

“Well, if anybody can rehabilitate a demon, it’s her,” Angel pulled the other ear and it flicked too. Cute.

“Mmm,” his companion let out. “Don’t be too much of a good boy, darlin’. I refuse to part wit you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” Angel chuckled warmly at Alastor affectionate speech. “They’d have to kill me to take me away from ya.”

“You ‘nd me both.”

Angel thought if Charlie saw Alastor like this, she’d definitely coo at him. Honestly, he kind of wanted her to, for funsies, but maybe it was better to leave sleeping deer lie.

***

2024, 310th day

“Cupcakes?!”

“Ugh.”

Angel ignored Alastor’s sound of distaste and grabbed Charlie’s hands in all four of his, eyes shining.

“Ya mean like real ones?! Not like… sugar water ones, right?” He was craving sweet things and Hell had shit. The best things came from topside and apparently not as many demons ventured there for ingredients, so Angel was seriously super low on sugar.

“Yeah!” she smiled at him happily and nodded towards the kitchen because he was still holding her hands like a vice, but she seemed to be fine with it. “We thought we could try baking them tonight!”

Another obvious attempt to get him stay the night, he knew. But cupcakes. It was like… the only bait that could potentially work, apart from Frappuccino orgy and pole dancing. She gave a vibe like she wouldn’t condone the latter though.

He sent Alastor a pleading puppy eyes and the demon let out a defeated sigh. He didn’t even need to say anything, he was just done. Angel didn’t blame him, he was bothering him about sweets for days now and since Alastor disliked those, he was driving a hard bargain every damn day.

 It was an obvious plan, really. The baking didn’t start before nine in the evening and Charlie made sure only the patients were attending, which meant only Angel, really (the hotel didn’t have many patients so far, and by many I mean none) and Charlie as a main helper. Vaggie joined them around half past nine with a badly hidden curiosity and Niffty kept running around, sweeping crumbs that had the audacity to touch the floor, and if she had nothing to sweep, she helped them with filling the forms, quite skilled for such a little lady.

“Here I thought Husky would be leading the baking party,” Angel commented when they put the first batch into the oven and Vaggie made a snorting noise somewhere behind the counter.

“Busy pouring drinks for Happy face,” she shot back while mixing the dough in the bowl. “He’s lounging at the bar like a shark, just waiting for a drop of blood.”

“Fitting,” Angel had to agree, though in much better light than Vaggie meant it. Charlie’s enthusiastic expression fell slightly and Angel just knew she got him here for a talk or two. Maybe even an all-nighter.

“Angel,” she started, swiping her hair behind her ear like she always did when nervous. “I know you said you made a deal with him and all-,”

“Careless of you, by the way,” Vaggie added with a sigh. “His deals always have a catch; you can never win.”

Angel leaned against the counter, giving them his full attention, which seemed to encourage Charlie a little. Maybe it was for the best to get them let it out of their chests and then ease their minds, no matter what Alastor would say about it. He knew his partner enjoyed people grasping for straws and worry, but neither Charlie or Vaggie deserved that – in both death and life combined they were the nicest girls he ever talked to, when he didn’t count his mum and sister. Sure, Vaggie was sharp as the spear she used, and Charlie had a naivety of a child, but they meant well, and he had to admit he was fond of them.

“I don’t doubt that,” he made a vague hand gesture for them to continue.

“He found you the moment you got to Hell, right?” Charlie asked with caution of a dancer on a nail bed.

“Well… yeah.” Not a lie. But he already belonged to him anyway, so it was not the moment of import as they thought it was.

“Can you tell us what the deal was about? Maybe we could help you somehow,” she smiled hopefully, and Angel took a deep breath.

“Ah, crap. Cha-Cha, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously,” he scratched his head. “We were just playin’, you know. It’s not like he’s ever gonna hurt me or anythin’. Or cut me or whatever we said before.”

She didn’t look convinced. Fair.

“The only danger I’m in, and I mean, that’s a fact,” he crossed his arms on his chest. “It’s that he won’t let me get up from the bed when I need to pee. Like. That’s how lazy he is, ya know. Just not moving. Just stayin’ in.”

Okay, might have not been the best example, he realized when Charlie just stared at him and Vaggie’s upper lip curled into a sneer. Did he just make Alastor into a sexual predator?

“We just sleep together,” he assured them with all four hands raised. That didn’t help either. Charlie looked at Vaggie with tight-lipped expression and Vaggie seemed not wanting to be part of the conversation at all.

“No sex,” he added for good measure. “At all. Zero. Nada.”

Disbelieving stares. Even Nifftys’, she stopped sweeping, that’s how much she didn’t believe it.

“I mean… does he look to you as somebody wanting to fuck all night or…?”

“Ugh, Lucifer help us,” Vaggie groaned while smacking her forehead. Charlie looked unsure and huh. Interesting. Sure, Alastor was always making an impression, but he didn’t know Charlie potentially thought of him as somebody with sexual drive. But then again, Angel was probably biased, knowing him for the asexual he was.

“Okay, let me… get you on a secret,” he conceded in a low voice. “I made a deal with Alastor ‘bout four years ago.”

“I thought you said you’re new?” Charlie blinked in surprise and Vaggie raised an eyebrow. She was definitely onto him now; he saw the realization in her face.

“You were still alive,” she said in a shocked voice. “You made a deal with him when you were still a human.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed her words with a small smile. “I summoned him on Christmas Eve, and we made a deal that day. And four years later I fucked up my life and here I am. He just collected what belonged to him, is all. He’s not forcing me to do anything, ya know. I wanna be with him on my free will.”

“Or so you think,” Vaggie added with a frown. “Never thought about it?”

“No, never,” he refused immediately. “I get it, toots. He’s a big, scary Overlord here. He kills people. I mean this is Hell, of course he won’t be paintin’ their nails, right.”

She just stared at him with the same expression.

“But ya gotta believe me on this. Al is… well. He’s…” he rubbed his neck with a nervous laugh. “I don’t wanna sound corny as fuck. I just like ‘im. Like a lot.”

The oven dinged into the heavy silence and Charlie was the first who reacted, probably happy for a break in the flow. The cupcakes looked like a treat and Angel was kind of glad when they got into decorating and neither of the girls pressed him for more. Niffty did give him shifty looks though, probably still thinking they were going at it as rabbits behind the closed doors.

 Alastor was still at the bar sipping bourbon from a tumbler when Angel was finally allowed to leave the kitchen around midnight, full to bursting. They burned the first batch a little, but he blamed the talk rather than their culinary skills.

“You seem unperturbed,” the red eyed demon commented when Angel sat down next to him and put a small basket with cupcakes on the counter. Husker behind the bar eyed it with disdain and took a swing of his bottle instead.

“Well, takes more than that to ruffle my feathers, ya know,” he grinned. “Not amused by my choice of words in there?”

“I quite approve, actually,” Alastor sipped his drink again. “Except of making me into a sexual deviant, thank you very much for that, darlin’.”

“That one slipped out on accident,” Angel chuckled. The expression of the girls made the misstep worth it though. “I kinda didn’t want to give out yer a cuddle monster but had no idea how to explain properly. Charlie might have troubles to look ya in the eyes for some time.”

“I can live with that,” Alastor shook his head. “I will make sure to let you get up when you need to pee from now on at least.”

“Somebody kill me again…” Husker grumbled and dragged down the cage with a grunt, locking the alcohol behind it. “I’m fucking leaving.” And with that he shuffled away from the bar with an unhappy flap of his wings until they were alone in the hall, staring at the place he disappeared at.

Angel snorted and Alastor drank the rest of his bourbon before standing up as well and offering a hand for Angel to take.

“Shall we go home then? Or do they want to keep you here so I can’t ravish you tonight?” he asked like it was no biggie to use home and ravish in one breath and Angel felt his face heating up, probably from all that sugar, before he took the hand in his and stumbled up.

“Home…” he mewled, grabbing the basket. “Please.”

“As you wish, cher.” Alastor’s voice was low and warm and Angel really had to think more on how to express to the girls on how much he loved this man, no voodoo involved.

***

2024, 325th day

There were several parlours in the hotel, most of them in terrible state of neglect, except of one Angel found by sheer coincidence one day and then made it his secret hideout for lazing around with music on. He got a permission from Charlie to paint the walls and adjust the place to his own liking, since it was in the second floor and basically nobody came there anyway. He planned to ask her for a pole as well, but that could wait – one step at the time, as they say.

He mostly used it for busying himself, since there was always something to do, and if he didn’t feel like working, he could always just dance to songs Alastor didn’t find fancy enough to play in the Radio Tower and it did the trick.

To Angel’s delight Alastor visited the Hotel often, but even when he didn’t have time or didn’t feel like it (though he never explicitly stated I don’t feel like going today, really, but Angel could tell when he had to do something and when he just said it), Angel ventured here by himself, much to Charlie’s excitement every time she saw him (it was actually pretty heart-warming, really. Though it also kind of sucked he felt welcomed in Hell a lot more than he ever did during his life).

“Look at you, so busy,” a static voice interrupted Angel’s reminiscing while absentmindedly scraping the remaining tattered wallpaper off the wall, and before he could turn around in surprise, Alastor was already standing next to him, inspecting the wall with raised eyebrows before glancing back down on Angel squatting at the bottom. “No fun therapy today? Or is the manual labour Charlie’s idea.”

“Yer the only fun around here, Smiles,” Angel grinned at him cheekily. “Didn’t expect ya today though.”

It was one of those I have something to do excuses while meaning I just don’t feel like rainbows today and Angel respected that. Seeing him here all of sudden was a nice bonus and he wondered if he even checked with Charlie first or she had no idea he arrived.

“Surprises are my speciality,” the Radio Demon said, eyes skimming from every part of the parlour critically. “Which this place is, to be honest. Less of a dump than the rest of the hotel, though.”

“Yeah, it’s more neglected than tattered,” Angel agreed and put the scraper down. “Yer gonna help me paint?” He nudged Alastor’s leg with his knee and the Radio Demon seemed to ponder that. He was more of a let do my totally not cursed magic do the work rather than actually attending himself – unless it came to cooking – so Angel didn’t expect him to actually take off his coat, neatly fold it on one of the barstools and roll up his sleeves, which meant business. Angel liked when it meant business. He liked it a lot.

“I can do that for a while,” Alastor hummed and the spider demon didn’t know if he was that bored or if it was his way of asking for attention but both were cute, especially when he meant to join Angel in this. “Can’t let you have all the fun now, can I.”

“Tsk tsk, what would others say, an Overlord painting walls by hand,” Angel stood up, his upper set of hands dropping on Alastor’s shoulders and the demon let him with half lidded eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hmm.”

“And by an ordinary fuckin’ paint too. Not even blood!” he gasped and Alastor took him by his waist and pulled him close.

“Mmmmm.”

“Yer riskin’ your reputation just for me?” the spider demon leaned back in theatrical swoon. “Oh, Alastor!”

“Literally only for you,” the deer demon purred back at him, holding him by the waist, letting him lean back so his head almost touched the floor, and if somebody walked in at that point, it would raise some serious questions, especially when Angel curled one of his legs around Alastor’s hips.

That’s why Charlie did arrive at exactly that point, Angel’s name on her lips, just to stutter to complete halt in between the doors, staring.

“Oh… hey, Princess,” Angel greeted her from basically upside down, Alastor not letting go or making any other move to remedy their positioning. “Didn’t hear ya comin’.”

“I… can see that,” her eyes switched from one to another. “Wanted to ask if you want to join us for lunch… both of you.”

She peered at the Radio Demon with raised eyebrows and that apparently made him get back to reality since he finally pulled Angel back up – still not letting go of his waist – but his hands were mostly just resting rather than holding. Angel dutifully put his leg down as well and earned a small cough from the princess.

Awkward.

“Would be my pleasure, sweetheart,” the static buzzed in a jolly tune and the Radio demon focused back on Angel, his expression softer than Angel would expect, given Charlie’s ogling. “Now shall we, darlin’?”

“We shall,” Angel grinned back at him and genuinely didn’t expect Alastor to grab his face and smooch him on the spot, then let go and leave the parlour with a happy twirl of the microphone he summoned out of thin air.

Charlie’s jaw was probably on the floor, but Angel’s was kinda too, so at least they matched.

***

“I’m just saying it looked like I interrupted something intimate, that’s all!”

“Juuuust please bury me somewhere alreadyyyyyy,” Angel whined, and Charlie patted him gently on his head like a dog she got in the pet store. Vaggie looked mildly interested in the conversation and that was bad news. They were the only ones in the dining room now, Alastor, that sneaky bastard, just poofed home once they finished the lunch, singing some happy tune and obviously left all this to Angel to deal with. Husker disappeared almost immediately, definitely knowing something horrible was going to happen and Angel didn’t even see Niffty the whole lunch.

“I think it was rather sweet?” she tried again, and Angel groaned and hid his head between his legs. “I suppose it gave me a bit more perspective of you two now!”

“Seriously, what did happen there?” Vaggie stared at them both, perplexed, as if she wasn’t here at the lunch where Charlie asked Alastor if he ever thought of spending the night in the hotel with Angel, in Angel’s room, to get the full hotel experience. She specifically said Angel’s room because she had no fucking filter and probably also because Alastor seemed to mightily approve of her choice of words and Angel’s utter mortified expression. The more frustrated Angel became, the wider was Alastor’s smile.

“They just kissed,” Charlie happily announced and yeah, Vaggie’s expression of total and utter disgust was spot on. “But it was cute!”

“Ya thought we were fuckin’ there at first!” Angel huffed. “And now ya say it was cute?”

“Well, you weren’t…” she rolled her hands around. “You know. And I know you said you don’t do that! So, I believe you!”

“Now ya believe me,” his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Because of one obnoxious smooch?”

“Was it obnoxious?”

“He made a show out of it, ‘fcourse it was!” Angel groused, expecting Alastor to be real smooth about it later. Just helping he was going to say, for sure. Totally not making Angel want to hide under a rug and stay there because he was caught smooching the Radio Demon (though anybody else doing the smooch would be resting in pieces by now, so maybe it was more like a praise than a handicap, but still) and the Princess of Hell being the witness.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before though,” Charlie sat a bit closer, clacking the chair with her until she could put her arm around Angel’s shoulders. “I guess I’m still a little surprised to see Radio demon actually possessing a beating heart.”

“A heart of his own, not the hearts he had stolen,” Vaggie added matter-of-factly. “Just for the record.”

“Thanks, Vaggie,” Angel huffed, but she was probably right anyway. “But it wasn’t like… why would one stupid show-off kiss make ya suddenly play a different tune?”

“Weeeell…” Charlie nervously looked away and Angel just knew.

“Ya were totally eavesdroppin’!” he pointed at her accusingly. “Holy shit, Cha-Cha, the Princess of Hell and ya just-!”

“Okay, okay!” she batted his hand down, her cheeks redder than normally he would even say steam was coming from her ears. “I might have been eavesdropping here and there-.”

“Here and there?” Angel couldn’t believe that. “So, there was more? Damn, you only act like an innocent girl, huh?”

“I was just worried!” she squeaked like a toy being squeezed too much. “I thought if he was being bad to you, I could save you somehow, but…”

Angel felt like the words actually physically smacked him over the face. Charlie, the bloody Princess of Hell, a hellborn demoness that knew him for how long? A month? This girl right there was caring for his wellbeing? She was ready to save him from an Overlord? Just because… because of what?

“But… why?” he couldn’t help but stare at her, eyes wide. “Why would ya go that far for a random sinner?”

Her face lit up with the most honest smile he had ever seen, like a puppy being petted for the first time even after peeing on the carpet, and Angel’s lower lip trembled in repressed sob she absolutely noticed, because of course she would.

“Because I care, Angel,” she pulled the chair even closer, so they were touching with their sides. “You’re my friend!”

“I bet ya say this to every girl ya meet,” he laughed trough ugly sobs and damn, that was so humiliating, he was going to need a real therapy after this.

“Just roll with it,” he heard from Vaggie, but couldn’t even look at her because Charlie was suddenly smooshing his face against her chest in a bear hug, petting him with cooing noises.

Holy shit, yeah, that was so going into a mental vault, Angel was so thoroughly embrassed.

And the worst thing was – he liked it. It was the nicest, warmest, the most awkward and cringiest thing he had ever experienced, and he did lots of shit in his life for this to top it all. Even Vaggie patted him awkwardly on his back in her way of showing support, and it only made him sob more.

It was probably good Alastor was fucking gone for this. That would be suicidal.

***

“Now wasn’t Charlie nice?”

Obviously Alastor was aware of everything. Angel didn’t even question it, especially not when he saw Al Junior peering at him from behind the Radio Demon, his smile wide and raggedy, as if he was not a spy master of gigantic proportions.

Alastor’s study was all lit up with the owner sitting behind the table, smiling at Angel softly. He only had a red shirt slightly unbuttoned from the top and his pants, but otherwise the rest was off, and it somehow added to the hominess Angel felt in the Radio Tower.

“Ya knew she was spying on us, didn’t ya,” Angel walked closer, stopping only a step away from the table. “Several times.”

“I would be a terrible Overlord if anybody could spy on me so easily, wouldn’t you agree,” Alastor grinned proudly, because obviously he would be proud of that in this regard. “There were no words able to sway the demon belle anyway. I may not be safest bet in any other regard, but for you, I am the safe heaven.”

“Mmm.”

“I was just trying to help.” There it was. “The situation was rather dire, as you sure agree.”

“I’m not upset, Al,” Angel breathed out with a small laugh. “I’m just… kinda offline right now. It was tiring as fuck.”

Alastor understood, that much was obvious. When he stood up and reached for Angel’s hands so he could lead him to the bedroom for a good night sleep, Angel had a fleeting worry of this all not being real, of waking up eventually in the hospital because somebody found him in the dirty bathroom of the club he overdosed himself in, and they managed to save him. And he would so fucking hate it he’d probably just kill himself with a yoghurt spoon or something the moment they’d leave him alone, just to end it.

But when Alastor pulled him close to his body and raked his clawed hand through his hair, the fear disappeared like a fleeting dream. He was where he was supposed to be. And he was happy he could cling to Alastor like a lifeline and never let go.

“Anthony,” Alastor’s static-less voice broke the gentle silence. “You touch my tail one more time and you lose dat hand.”

“That’s fine, have five more,” Angel grinned into Alastor’s chest and took the leap of faith.

[seromreven]

title: i’ll take you there | chapter one.

pairing: paul mccartney/female!reader/linda mccartney | john lennon/female!reader.

summary: the year is 1974. You’re the personal assistant of Paul and Linda McCartney. One spring day you meet the rather infamous John Lennon during the middle of his ‘Lost Weekend’ escapades. Spark fly and secrets unfold between the two of you.

also posted on ao3!

Nearly two years later, you were driving down Santa Monica Boulevard. It was early spring and fucking warm. A hellish warmth you had not yet grown accustomed to even as this was your umpteenth time to Los Angeles. And it was only March!

It was 1974. The air conditioning in your car was on full blast and you were surely at risk at getting a cold but you could care less at this point. The radio was on a random channel and played ‘Waterloo’ by ABBA. You remembered watching them win the Eurovision with the McCartney family at their farm in Scotland the previous month. Paul had otherwise been sure that Olivia Newton-John would’ve taken home the prize for the UK that year.

Speaking of; since that fateful night in 72’, you and the McCartney’s had grown closer. They had admitted that at first, they had only wanted a purely professional relationship but they soon came to have grown rather attached to you. That it wasn’t just sexually either. That they deeply cared for you.

Polyamory was a tricky subject, a taboo, and so it was a secret. Only known between the three of you. And Heather, who had once walked into her parents’ bedroom one morning in Kintyre and had seen you spooned between them. As she had previously understood it, you were the help and had your own room.

Her parents tried to explain it off, tried casting her thoughts astray, but she was eleven. And not stupid. Luckily, she had promised to keep it to herself and was awarded hot cocoa.

It was slightly complicated you realised. That if you had to theoretically explain it to someone. They had their separate relationship from you. As you had with each of them. Your time alone with, say, Linda was different from what you had alone with Paul. And different from when you all three were together.

You were still under the guise of a personal assistant and still served them in that aspect too. You had created clear boundaries and for when you worked and didn’t as to not abuse the clear power dynamic. Though, there had been times when it had been used for more… intimate situations.

But as for today; you were heading towards Burbank. Burbank Studios to be precise. You were to meet Paul and Linda there for some kind of… session? You were unsure. As Paul had told you; John Lennon was there, as well as other musicians. The day previously they had been recording and Paul thought it a good idea to drop in for a surprise visit.

Of that, you were unsure. You had read and heard things about John’s behaviour in the last few months. Of his drunken antics and him getting thrown out of a club together with fellow musician Harry Nilsson. And that was just last week!

And you didn’t even want to get started off how he had talked about Paul in the media, and through songs. Sure, Paul had done things of the same calibre but not at the same rate or degradation. You had cause for concern and wariness, you adamantly thought.

You reached the studio and turned into the large parking space. Signs pointed to where the various studios where. The hot gravel of some parking spaces was painted to indicate who the spot belonged to.

You drove nearly to end of the lot before you reached the spot where you were supposed to meet the McCartney’s.

You recognised their car and an open spot next to it were free, lucky you. You stopped out and covered your eyes from the sun as you looked around for the couple. You wore sunglasses but there was only so much it could do.

You spotted them sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree. Oak, it could look like but you really didn’t know. It was near the entrance of the studio where the double doors stood wide open, presumably to air out the lobby.

“Hot out today, huh?” You grinned at them as you neared them, hand still hovering above your eyes. They smiled and Linda back waved at you. They both looked great in the shade of the sun.

Linda wore a light blue sundress that fitted her wonderfully. Her shoulders were covered with a white knitted shawl.  You wore a matching blue tank top and white jean shorts.

Paul wore one of his many vests, it was dark red with an… interesting pattern. You couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be. It looked like just a bunch of white circles to you. Under neat, it was a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. And he also wore a pair of white jean shorts, though longer than the ones you wore.

As you neared them, they stood up and dragged you into a hug. It was nice and short. It was cool under the shade of the giant tree, giving you a short release from the unbearable heat that you were sure of that you would never become accustomed to.

You had last seen them earlier that morning. You had left quickly, immediately after breakfast, to run errands that had kept you out and away from them until now. You had known them for almost three years by now, intimately for two, and yet it seemed all seemed like it was yesterday. You always missed them the moment you were parted and you were always excited to see them again. Like… a puppy, you realised. Huh.

“Ready for this?” You asked Paul as you separated from the hug. Both you and Linda were looking at her. She looked calmer than you felt. Which were, actually, pretty easy. You felt like a nervous wreck. You probably had over thought it. Oh, it was going to be fine.

He nodded and looked towards the entrance. He looked calm, but you knew his tells. He was fidgeting with an unlit cigarette. His other hand clung to Linda’s hand who was lightly caressing the back of his hand were her thumb.

And you had the thought that you were brought along more as emotional support rather than as a personal assistant.

Paul finally brought the cigarette to his lips and you helped light it as his other hand was still trapped in the soft confines of Linda’s. He softly nodded and turned with Linda and they made their way over the bright grass to the open doors. You quickly followed.

The inside was only a little chiller. A fan was rotating for all its might left to right in a corner near the receptionist desk. The receptionist didn’t even glance up as you all stepped inside.

“It’s down this way,” you murmured and pointed down a large hallway. You had studied the layout of the place almost immediately after you had been told you were going there the previous day. You were here early.

As you reached the end of the long hallway, a strumming of an acoustic guitar was heard from behind closed double doors. You paused and glanced at Paul. His nervousness hadn’t changed. He still fidgeted around and practically clung to Linda. But as you stood and listened to the music, you realised that it must be familiar to Paul. It had brought a positive change to him. His posture relaxed and he snuffed out his smoke before stepping inside.

The first thing you noticed as you stepped inside was the strong smell of pot. A smell that you had gotten very acquainted with ever since you started working for the McCartney’s. They smoked it in abundance while you rarely touched it. Frankly, it wasn’t to your taste.

The strumming stopped and immediately after you heard the scraping of a chair getting pushed back as if someone were standing up. You looked to the source and saw that it was one, John Lennon. He was putting down an acoustic guitar while looking towards your group.

“Paul!” He smiled and very quickly stood in front of the aforementioned man. They looked at each other in a soft way that you haven’t expected. You had expected animosity or bitterness. But as they stood in front of each other, it was as if they’ve never argued before.

They didn’t hug as you had almost expected, but they shook hands. John’s cradling Paul’s. A greeting of close and intimate friends. You glanced to Linda, and she didn’t seem puzzled by it at all. You felt like you were missing out on something big.

They parted. “How’ve you been?” Paul asked in a low voice that you almost didn’t hear. “Good, good” he nodded but his voice wavered. From the pot or something else, you didn’t know. “What’re you doing here?” He asked of Paul. “I was in the neighbourhood, y’know. Though I’d drop by,” he smiled. Charmingly, you would say.

John laughed and patted Paul on the shoulder.

Then, John turned to look at Linda and you. Paul stood still, still looking at John. Looking him up and down, softly, and as if he were studying him. You too silently looked the man over. He was wearing bell bottoms and a flimsy, almost see-through, bottom-up shirt. His hair stopped just passed his jaw and he wore  round glasses. Similar to ones you had seen him wear in multiple pictures of the last few years of The Beatles.

“Hi, John,” Linda greeted and he nodded back to her. It was then he looked at you, his eyes narrowing as someone would when crucially studying something new. You decided to interrupt that and introduce yourself; “I’m [full name]. The personal assistant of Mr and Mrs McCartney.” You sounded more… robotic than you had planned and inwardly winced, unsure of how that would come across to this familiar stranger.

Familiar stranger. Sure. You had met John Lennon before. Briefly. And not something he would remember. It was in passing back in your time at Abbey Road as the all but official secretary of Robert Hardwell. It was early into your time there in 1970. John and Yoko Ono had passed you by on their way into Hardwell’s office. John had glanced at you and it was all you thought of for the rest of the month.

Oh, how things had changed.

“Glad to meet ye,” his hand reached out to you and you shook it with a polite smile. His hand was warm and calloused, evidence of decades of guitar playing. It was a short shake and almost immediately after he let go; the double doors behind you opened up again.

You looked over your shoulder to see a young Asian woman standing in the entrance. Perhaps closer to your age than the other three. She appeared Chinese, with long dark hair nearing her waist. She wore a lovely lilac halter top matched with dark shorts that appeared to be velvet. Dark sunglasses rested on the top of her head and you noted that she was a very attractive woman.

John immediately went to her and gave her a hard kiss on the mouth. You awkwardly coughed and turned around to ‘study’ the room. Giving them some sense of privacy, though you had the feeling it wasn’t a concern of theirs. You had never been one for public displays of affection. Especially now when you had two loves you could do nothing with in public.

You didn’t wonder about the woman who John kissed. You had read somewhere about John and Yoko having separated or… something of the kind. You weren’t sure of the details and, frankly, it wasn’t any of your business anyway. Only if it in any way affected Paul and Linda.

The room wasn’t anything special for a studio. It was large and had a lot of various instruments and the appropriate electronics. You heard John speak. He was introducing the woman to Paul and Linda. May Pang, you heard him say. The name sounded familiar. Maybe you had read it somewhere in relation to John’s separation from Yoko.

Your back was still turned and you were walking further into the room. Chairs were scattered around the room from previous use and a large spot in the middle of the room was covered in light from a rooftop window. You stepped into it and closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun overwhelm you.

You heard the sound of footsteps and voices getting louder and you sighed as you stepped back out of the sunspot. You turned back to the group and saw that more people had entered the studio. Linda was looking at you and smiled as your eyes met. She motioned slightly for you to come to her side.

When you got there you noticed that one of the new additions to the room was Harry Nilsson. A musician you were familiar but more importantly, the other half to the duo of John Lennon and his newsworthy drunkenness. A cause for concern.

Two men stood on each of Harry’s side. One looked Native American and was holding a guitar case. The other; a white man with a saxophone hanging from his neck. Neither looked familiar to you but it was clear why they were here. It was a music session, after all, not just some meet and greet.

You were quickly introduced to them by Paul. Jesse Ed Davis, the guitars. And Bobby Keys, the saxophonist. You shook hands and introduced yourself to them and Harry Nilsson. Loud coughing was heard and you turned your head to see the source was none other than John who had turned on another joint and was sharing it with his… girlfriend? Mistress? She had been called many things in the various papers you had read concerning the topic.

“Oh, is that Ringo’s drums?” You head Paul exclaim and turned to watch him near a drumset. You didn’t know much about drums. Really, instruments in general other than the basics you had to know as a touring personal assistant.

John exhaled smoke out of his nose and laughed; “well, it’s his name on it, innit?”

Laughter was shared throughout the room and the joint was passed as the group gathered around in a small circle. You took a huff or two but no more as you wanted to be clear minded and focused for the rest of the session. You wouldn’t consider yourself overly protective but this day you felt uneasy in the vicinity of John and Paul. Linda had told you all about the depression and drunken states Paul had gone through after The Beatles had broken up. And you had seen first hand how the humiliating comments John had given to journalists had affected Paul.

A knock on the door and when it opened cheers erupted, taken you slightly by surprise as you were yet to have seen who had earned the commotion. You glanced over and saw; Stevie Wonder! You held back a gasp. Very rarely did you get starstruck but this was a man you couldn’t help but admire, even as you sat in a room with two ex-Beatles. Besides, he had just won a slew of Grammy’s just a few weeks earlier.

None of the other people could say the same. At least not for this year.

“Do I have the right room?” He laughed as he was greeted by John and Harry who had gotten up on their feet. You smiled and looked at the small woman beside him. Who she was, you couldn’t tell. Her ebony hair was styled in a beautifully rounded afro and a keychain around her neck, dangling down her orange shirt, especially drew your attention. It looked similar to the one you wore and had seen multiple PAs wear over the years. Was that what she was?

People spread throughout the room to each their own different instruments, except you and the woman who had come with Stevie Wonder. You took the chance and introduced yourself to her as you came up by her side.

“Hello, I’m [full name]. Personal assistant to the McCartney’s,” you smiled and reached out your hand for her to shake. She grabbed it firmly with a wide smile and shook. “Nice to meet you. I’m Michelle Jacobs. I work for Stevie, also as a PA.” Her smile was polite and kind, and you couldn’t help but feel comfortable in this strangers presence. You were unsure of why, maybe it was the shared work, but something about her was different from all the other new people you had met that day.

You stood near the entrance and watched over the crowd with Michelle at your side. Paul had seated himself behind Starr’s drums with Linda sitting nearby behind an organ, close by Stevie Wonder sat also behind something; this object being an electric piano. On the other side of Paul was John. He was leaned back against the wall with his guitar placed neatly in his lap, you stared at him as you watched him seem to study Paul who was fidgeting around with the various… mechanism of the drumset.

May Pang was on her feet near John with a tambourine in hand, and as she moved; slight pearls of melodic sounds would come from the tiny instrument. Harry Nilsson and the duo he had arrived with closed the little square grouping, each tending to their own instruments.

Various mismatches of sounds filled the room. Several strummed their guitars, either from being tuned or from someone warming up. Paul and John talked as May watched on and Linda was discussing something with Stevie. You were tempted to go join them but didn’t want to intrude so you stayed by the door with your new acquaintances Michelle.

“How long have you worked for the McCartney’s?” You were asked and turned to see Michelle’s dark eyes looking back out you. You smiled politely, “about three years now.”

“Wow,” she slightly gaped. Was three years a lot? You really had no idea. For you, it had gone by so fast and you could easily do it for three years more. “I’ve been with Stevie for… Hm, nearing a year this summer.” She nodded, more to herself than you.

Someone knocked and watched over your shoulder as an elderly bespectacled man entered the room. He appeared tall and his salt and pepper were complimented with a matching beard.

“Hello,” he nodded to you and Michelle and proceeded to enter the room. You glanced to the woman beside you with a raised brow in question and she leaned in to whisper, “that’s Ed Freeman. He’s a producer.”

You watched as he stopped to talk to Harry. And then John. Before then picking up a bass guitar and looking it over in concentration.

It took a while but people seemed to finally all be on the same track as to what to play. The room got came to a low volume of muttering and small laugher as microphones, headphones, and various objects got passed around. Along with them so was several joints, which you passed on again.

You stared as John seemed to be snorting something that, when you narrowed your eyes, was clearly cocaine. You sighed. Of course, cocaine was brought into the mix of music and weed. It was Los Angeles, wasn’t it? It was offered to Paul and Linda who, thankfully, refused.

And as the music started on a low hum, the sweet blend of the acoustic guitar with the electric and bass, you heard John again this time offering some to Stevie by asking, “You wanna snort, Steve? A toot? It's goin' round.” It was accepted and then asked to be passed around. It never made it to you and Michelle, and you wouldn’t have accepted it regardless.

Throughout the day, not much was done in the way of making music. Sure, they played and had a blast but a lot of it couldn’t be used for multiple reasons. Trouble with either mics or headphones kept popping up between the pauses that were taking as someone either smoked or snorted. At some point, you had moved to sit on the floor between Paul and Linda’s instruments. Quietly listening along to the music and getting the occasional careful huff of marijuana.

Maybe he thought he was being slick. But it didn’t work; as you clearly saw John stare at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. What was it? You had to fight back the temptation of staring uncourtly back, as in some way of showing dominance, as you didn’t want to cause some sort of scene.

But it was distracting. His long hair and thick sideburns, aquiline nose staring you down.

You willed the thoughts away and focused rather on the playing of drums and piano on both sides of you. And of the singing that came from multiple people throughout the room; though John stayed the dominant voice in your mind.

At the end of the day; and all but few had left, you had gone out to stretch your legs and to leave the smoke-filled room. You had managed through it would out any big ordeal. Songs were sung, or yelled depending on your tastes.

You had said your goodbyes to Stevie and Michelle equally. Aside from the anxiety at the start of the day; you hah had a good time. And a nice talk with Michelle, including sharing work stories.

It was still bright out, the evening sun beginning to ever so slightly shine orange, and the parking lot was more filled with more cars than it was when you had arrived that morning.

Paul and Linda were sitting in a rented convertible. The roof was down, exposing them to the light summer breezes. They were talking and laughing loudly with John who wearing leaning into the car while smiling brightly and entirely focused Paul.

May was standing close by, her arms crossed as she held a small purse. Her sunglasses were down and so you couldn’t tell where she looked, that was until her head turned towards you and she waved you over with a smile.

Getting there you heard bits of the Lennon-McCartney conversation, mainly lead by an excited John.

“-we have loads of food! And drinks, it won’t be a concern.” John had a large grin on his face as he told Paul of his plans. He briefly glanced your way as the asphalt cracked under your feet, an indication of your arrival.

“Oh, sounds wonderful. Right, Linda.” Paul looked to his wife who silently nodded with a smile. “The kids should be asleep now anyway.”

He finally noticed your presence and gave a tiny wave. You came closer, placing yourself next to John.

“Are you fit to drive?” You asked, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. He had smoked a lot more than you had, and even with that small amount, you were unsure about the thought of driving.

“Yeah,” he nodded while beating a melody unto the steering wheel.

John laughed, suddenly, and gave you a hard pat on the back. He stepped away from the car. “You can follow my car. It’s the white one over there,” he pointed to a rather small car. But not too dissimilar to the one Paul and Linda were going in.

Before you could say anything; May, who had otherwise been silent, stepped forward and looked to you. “We thought you could come along, if you wanted to.”

You glanced to Linda and Paul, silently wanting their approval. It was granted by Linda as she, with her hand on Paul’s bicep, nodded.

“Sure,” you answered looking back at May. She smiled softly and looked towards John with a nod. He was busying himself in the car, looking mildly bored waiting for May.

While you hadn’t been the biggest fan of certain antics that had happened during the day; you couldn’t quite say that going to John and May’s house was the last thing you would want to do. They had interested you in certain ways, and you were still determined in figuring out why John had stared at you like that earlier in the day.

And regardless of this being a thing you wanted or not; you had a feeling it could be worthwhile. Dining with your secret lovers and with an ex-Beatle and his mistress slash girlfriend? What could possibly go wrong?

[james-bucky-barnackle]

Frostbite (Part 2)

Requested: can i request a fic between y/n and steve where they’re secret lovers but y/n chooses team iron man in civil war and then fast forward to infinity war she finds out about steve has moved on with nat. -@anon

Part 1 | Frostbite Masterlist

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Angst??? and Infinity War Spoilers! 

Word count: 3,700

A/N: Requests are open! I’ll try my best to write them <3 

There was a knock on her door, it was quiet and fast.

Y/N shook her head, she felt stupid crying at a time like this and let a dumb laugh out, she couldn’t even have a few minutes to herself, and here was someone knocking on her door- again. She stood up and before she could even open the door, she saw the knob turn, she forgot to lock it. She quickly wiped her tears, she didn’t need anyone asking about her own issues when there was a larger problem to deal with. And when it did open, her lips parted, ocean blue eyes in her view. Her feet were stuck on the floor, before her eyebrows could signal the feeling she was having, she gave a sullen smile. He looked around her room and noticed water dripping from her table, flowers looking crumpled together. She thought of freezing them again in an instant just to cover her tracks, but she was already caught. His expression grave, but she thought this wasn’t the time, or if there will even be a time.

“What’s up?” It was the most normal thing she could muster, but the state she looked in didn’t look normal enough.

“I want to explain,” explain Steve, tell me. Her eyebrow raised, she was acting oblivious to the scene she just witnessed, she wanted to have the upper hand, to be the clear winner of the argument she knew was about to start.

“Explain, what?” She’s now moving towards the cabinet to reach for other equipment, she didn’t want to just stand up and watch and let him make her feel weak again; she wanted to have the shield on this one.

“I knew you were there.” No, he didn’t. He couldn’t, she thought. Her façade was slowly fading away as she adjusted her gloves. It’s unfair, she should have the advantage, but here she was about to be defeated a second time.

“What? W-where? Being away from the compound is making you see things, Cap.” he was facing her back, she was now fiddling with the device on her wrist that kept her body at a moderate temperature which helped control her abilities. He was vexed, his shoulders were tense, but she looked like she wasn’t taking him seriously, at least that’s what he thought.

“I knew you were there because I felt the air grow cold,” her head shot up. That wasn’t enough proof, but it was the truth, she hated how she made the air dry everywhere she went, the place would grow cold, she thought she learned to control it, but his words tell her otherwise. Y/N could stay prolonging the interrogation but she knew it would all end in the same way.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” she now turned to face him, a fixed smile on her face.

“Please, jus-,”

“I don’t care what you do with your life. There’s something bigger happening than the two of us, come to think of it, there really wasn’t even an us.” She scoffed.

“God! Would you just listen to me?!” he was fuming, but so was she, she was done feeling belittled to listen to all his senseless explanations. And what for? It didn’t do her any good.

“God can listen to you, I have somewhere to be,” she started walking towards the door when Steve grabbed her wrist tighter than he intended to. Frost started to appear at her hands, she wouldn’t think twice.

“Guys,” they both look up to see Bruce in the hallway standing in front of the open door. He scratched the back of his head, thinking if he should come back later, but it wasn’t a regular day and this couldn’t wait. “We have to go, everyone’s on their way to the quinjet.”

Y/N quickly pulled her hand from Steve’s hold as ice flakes fell to the ground. She walked out as she nodded at Bruce who’s seemingly confused, as he looked back at Steve who looked broken and sighed heavily.

“What was that about?” Bruce caught up to Y/N, who looked like walking a marathon.

“Nothing important,” she winked at him with a new-found glee as she got on the jet which he knew was all for show. For all Bruce knew, it looked like what he thought did, the cause, still a mystery to him, but it was evident – whatever she and Steve had, was on the rocks. Steve didn’t bother removing the frost from his fingers from the hold he had on Y/N, he was too caught up to notice. Bruce’s been out of the loop for too long, but he didn’t want to push anything that didn’t fit in with the timing. They were on the most dangerous mission they’ve ever been sent on; but he still wanted to make sure everyone was okay.

Y/N was clearly given the best day of her life, she didn’t know if she wanted to copilot, but she didn’t really have a choice. She was setting her seat beside the woman she considered to be her best girl, maybe not anymore. Nat didn’t look like she knew anything about Steve being in her room as she continued to do the last rounds before takeoff. Y/N put on her earpiece and made configurations of her own.

“Just like every mission, huh?” she says as Y/N buckles her seatbelt.

“Yeah, I guess.” It’s not, it will never be. Y/N was sullen, she wasn’t in the mood to talk and pretend everything was normal even if it was what was needed of her. She wished she went missing with Tony. Where could he be now? She wondered.

The travel was silent, Vision and Wanda holding hands huddled together as they both dug in the comfort of each other, not knowing what waits for their relationship. Bruce kept trying to reach Tony through FRIDAY but his attempts unsuccessful. Natasha ever so slightly tried to glance at Y/N, only to see her looking straight into the sky, never once exchanging words with her; then gazed at Steve at one point and gave him a small smile as he nodded back, expression unreadable. Steve was stoic, but looked like he got over it the moment the clouds cleared to reveal Wakanda and all its glory.

They were greeted by King T’Challa, Rhodey greeted him, laughing lowly as Bruce bowed.

“We do not do that here,” T’Challa remarked, a smile crept up his lips.

“Not bad for the end of the world,” a tall brunet says to Steve, it’s Bucky. He quickly looks at Y/N as she gives him a serious nod and walks away to follow the rest, leaving him surprised she didn’t have anything spiteful to say. She didn’t know if she hated him, after all, Bucky wasn’t the one who left and lied to her.

Y/N looked around, she loved the warmth of this place. She felt life all around her, the sun beaming at them, she liked how it felt on her skin. They quickly proceeded to meet with Shuri who quickly assessed the situation. Time wasn’t of an abundance, but Wanda wasn’t open to letting Vision go. Before anyone would settle on anything, the alarm went off, signaling the presence of their enemies. They all quickly gathered their weapons and ran to the field, leaving Shuri to the task and Wanda at a ready to destroy the stone once it’s out of Vision’s body. Y/N gave her a quick nod before she left, Wanda will need all the support she can get.

As they walked the field, Y/N resisted getting distracted by the wonder before her, soldiers lined up shouting their war cries as they looked up to see huge aircrafts seemingly landing directly on top of them only to hit the barrier protecting Wakanda. For a second, they all felt a sigh of relief, but the monsters that threatened to get past the barrier were already surrounding the area, the risk would be too high if they let them get around the perimeter, they were obviously outnumbered. Steve looked and walked past her, concerned that earlier’s event might mess with her focus and affect her safety, but she wanted him to get as far away from her as possible, everyone’s safety was at stake. Her body was full of anger, she didn’t feel scared, her head was snapped back into the mission, he was wrong, she was focused as ever. The moment the barrier opened, growls of the outriders were loud and deafening, saliva seeping from their mouths, ready to kill and so were the avengers. They all darted towards them, Steve had a new shield, smaller than the disk he held, Y/N quickly froze the bodies of the dozen that ran towards her and with the clench of her fists, crushed their ice-covered bodies. Her heart was accelerating, they were too many and too fast. They looked like they were intelligent creatures, and them seeing her swiftly kill a dozen of them, led her a lot of audiences that were undesirable. Soon, more outriders were on her tail. She ran with her hands raised freezing every enemy they could hit and just before one of them could jump to tackle her, Bruce burned the parasite. She nodded at him through his metal gear, scrunched her nose when she realized how he still couldn’t turn into the hulk and was taking shelter inside the hulk buster.

“I’m trying, okay?” He said.

“Whatever you say, Bruce.” She winked at him as they both continued to face their mad dog enemies. “These things are fucking scary.”

“I know!” Just as Bruce replies, a tall shadow made an appearance on the grass, it was approaching fast. Bruce immediately jumped and pushed Y/N aside as a huge metal looking wheel violently rolled past them, and it wasn’t the only one. Rhodey and Sam were busy up the skies, and everything was in chaos. It seemed like these creatures were coming from an endless pit. She looked at the wrist device Tony gave her and it was bleeping, she needed to act fast. It was sliced through, it was of no use anymore, she threw it away. Winter was gonna come soon, and she didn’t care if she wouldn’t be able to control her powers, even when she knew the cold might freeze her into sleep, a slumber that will leave her immobile for weeks. Today wasn’t a day she needed to care, she needed to finish the mission and fight these monsters before they get to Vision.

She spoke to soon, her eyes glared at Wanda, she was on the field now too. Who’s left with Vision? This is getting a lot harder than they thought. It wasn’t gonna be easy, they were all desperate, they needed some kind of miracle. In a flash of light, lightning came ringing through the skies, it was Thor, with two companions adding to the team, Y/N shrugged, the timing was ridiculous and she wasn’t complaining. But things only kept becoming worse, Vision was now on the field too. Y/N’s heart beat too fast for her own good, everyone was fighting for their lives, it was havoc. He was injured, and signaled her not to come any closer and instead continue with the fight. They needed all the soldiers that were able and she created long ice shards that she swung just like swords, using her powers to freeze opponents were draining her. Hand to hand combat was her option for now. From the open field, she was now under the trees, killing everyone in her sight, an outrider managed to slice her arm, she quickly froze the wound, screaming in pain as ice settled on top of it, she was not about to let these imbeciles spill one drop of blood from her.

Steve on the other hand, was facing Corvus Glaive, with Vision on the ground behind him. He was bigger than Steve and he was full of confidence, vile and twisted. The tall specie grabbed Steve’s neck, sudden that he was surprised as he was lifted off the ground. His teeth clenching, Steve hopeless trying to get away from his grasp, the serum wasn’t enough to defeat the extra-terrestrial, his hold was getting tighter. Without a warning a spear went through Corvus Glaive’s body and rode up to his skull, splitting him in half. The captain fell to the ground, roughed his hands through his throat as a hand was held out by his savior to help him get up.

“I had it under control,” he managed to say as he coughed, but still accepting the hand.

“Sucks when someone makes the choice for you, huh?” Y/N smirks at him as she pulled him up. He could clearly see what Y/N was getting at.

“I did what I had to do,” now they were back to back, fighting their common enemies, and stupidly – amongst themselves. Two come running at Y/N, she turned as she blasted them both, the other one managing to dodge but was quickly apprehended by her companion.

“Yeah, because you always do the right thing, hmm cap?” He was not having it, neither was she, but she would be stupid not to piss him off during a battle to get under his skin. Her past lover and her best friend was dating, did he think she’d just go ahead and pick flowers for them?

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He sighs as he slashes through an outrider’s neck.

“It’s okay, just didn’t think you’d be into bleach blondes.” Wanda was now with Vision, tears streaming down her face as Vision tells her to let him go as she lifted her hand up to destroy the stone as the other one held his hand. And while they were bidding their awful farewell, Steve and Y/N we’re still trapped in their harsh reunion as they blocked anyone who wanted to get to the mind stone.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. That’s why I came to your room, to explain. You deserve better. Its n-“

“Not you, it’s me? Wow that’s fucking new.” She through spikes of ice, hitting 4, she was on a roll.

“It’s not like that! Nat and I didn’t intend it-“ she cut him again, she didn’t want to hear her name, ever since she saw her with her hands on him, she hated her with a passion.

“Is that the only thing you’re guilty for? You really think I’m that shallow?” she already broke her back in Siberia, he was also on a roll, but it wasn’t against the alien assassins they were facing. “You know what?” she waves her hands, “I’m stupid, to even trust you the first day with your ‘hi you can call me Steve’ crap and that stupid smile of yours trying to hide under some shield. You are not in the 40’s anymore, drop the act. You’re not the scrawny little boy you were from Brooklyn. Look. In. The. Mirror.” She always hated him using his self-esteem as an excuse. She was done understanding him.

She wasn’t stopping, “You think you were wise not to tell me anything? Why did you not tell me anything, Steve?!” Her eyes were pleading, the same desperation as the last time he saw him at Siberia. “While you were out there trying to protect Bucky, I was stuck not knowing anything, I thought you trusted me? Damn, if you couldn’t respect me as someone you cared for, you could’ve treated me as someone from the team. Secrets are sooo a hundred years ago, don’t you think? And I thought I was important. Did you leave the flowers in my room so I can freeze it and preserve it for when you need to give it to her?” Her words hit him hard.

No matter how angry she was feeling, sarcasm was always her best friend. She wanted to freeze him and throw him over the electric wall. She was throwing all her anger at him, at this moment. She didn’t care if it was a bad moment, for all she knew this was the last stand, they might never get to see each other after this. Steve was dumbfounded, he’s never seen this side of her. She’s always been quiet and understanding, she was stubborn at times, but he felt guilty. He did leave her out of the loop, he got too caught up with Bucky’s situation that he forgot about Y/N, and left her out of it because he didn’t want her to choose his side just because he was in it, he wanted her to choose his side because she understood, but he’s realized he’s never really even given her a chance to.

Before he could answer, heartbreak clear in his eyes, their greatest opponent stood in front of them, the light reflecting from his gauntlet giving a deadly signal. Y/N quickly shot him with ice blasts only for him to turn them into bubbles. He grabbed her by the wrist and threw her with ease, her back hitting the bark of the tree before she fell on the ground. Steve’s heart dropped, she wasn’t moving. He quickly struck Thanos, going for his hand gripping the gauntlet tight as Wanda tried to pick up the pace. Steve wanted to get this done, he wanted to run towards Y/N, he was panicking, he felt like he was running out of time. His heart was bursting out of his chest. Thanos pushed him into the ground, crushing him, as Steve’s face hit the dirt, his eyes landed on Y/N, his eyes about to shed a tear.

Wanda was left alone to beat him, she let go of Vision’s hand and turned it towards the titan walking towards her, only a few more minutes and the stone will be destroyed, along with her heart. She was screaming, as Vision’s eyes went cold, the stone crushed, an explosion came, blinding everyone near it. When she let her hands go, Thanos walked close and as she prepared herself for a fight as her tears continued to pour, with a wave of his hands, time reversed, the explosion reimagining itself backwards as the stone formed right back on Vision’s head. Steve looked on, still trying to gather himself, no matter how stupid it sounded, wanted Thanos to reverse it back to the events of the civil war. The titan pulled the stone from a disheveled Vision, killing him for a second time, as Wanda watched her lover die twice, deep down she knew she was already dead inside. Just as Thanos put it on his gauntlet, Thor flew in and truck him dead center in the chest, only for him to let a hearty smile from him.

“You should’ve gone for the head,” he said as his fingers collided with each other, a click echoing through everyone’s ears.

“What did you do?!” Thor was dumbstruck, he staggered backwards, he hasn’t avenged Loki yet.

“It’s done now,” Thanos looks him straight in the eyes as he walks into a portal.

Steve was now crawling his way out, he was desperate to get to her. “Y/N?!” he heaved, her head moved. He finally got up and stumbled through the forest to get to her. Her head was gushing with blood. He hated how she had the courage to smile at him, seeing her state as she lied down, eyes glued on him. “S-shit, stay with me, Y/N,” he breathed as he signaled for help.

“I c-can’t even fr-freeze t-the blo- blood on my head, I can’t even feel s-shit,” she managed to say. Oh Y/N, Steve thought as he held her close, his eyebrows crunched.

“For once, can you stop talking?” Steve says, gently and pained. She coughs, blood coming out of her mouth.

“I’ve always w-wanted you to hold me again, didn’t imagine it’d be like t-this.” A tear fell from his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, his chest was blazing. Her words pierced through her. He wanted to go back to that night at the balcony, he wanted to hug her tighter than ever, he wanted to have gone down in the hallway and not have had to have met there. He wanted to go back in time to tell the world what he felt for her. Maybe he was wrong, thinking he was protecting her by keeping Bucky from her, and now with Nat. He was feeling like such a fool. He was surprised as Y/N held his hand, squeezing it tight, her thumb caressing the back of his palm. He pulled it up to his cheek and shushed.

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. Help is on the way.” He gave her the best smile he could muster, he knew she didn’t want to see him look that way.

“I h-hate how I-I still love you even though you’ve hurt me so much,” her breath was getting heavier blood was on her lips a monstrous shade. Steve feels like he’s getting buried into the ground, he still loved her, and he’s never told her. Say it, you jerk, tell her, he scolded himself. She smiled seeing at how confused he looked, as she shed a tear. “I know, Steve.” She blinked, her tears now coming rapidly, “I-I kn-know even if you can’t s-say it.”

“Y/N, I-“

“Steve?” he looks behind him, Bucky’s eyes were pleading, his body turning into dust. He lost him, Steve couldn’t understand the horror in front of him, he was in agony, as he looked back at Y/N only to see her struggle only to inhale a sharp breath, her eyes closing. His lips parted, he couldn’t believe it. He spent the past two years protecting Bucky only to see the wind blow him into ashes, losing the woman he loved in the process, and now that she’s back in his life, has spent the last minutes he spent with her, bickering and inflicting more pain. Pain she’s never deserved in the first place. He felt stupid, foolish, she was so close to him and he still couldn’t protect her. The pain he felt was fierce, his chest felt like a whole was cut through it, it was unmerciful. He held her body as he rocked her back and forth hoping for her to open her eyes and tell him it’s just a dream.

It didn’t take the soldiers long to find him with Y/N in his arms, as they took her body, Steve was surprised when they found a pulse. She was fighting for her life, and he decided he was not gonna lose her a second time.

PART 3 | Check out my other stuff too? | M A S T E R L I S T

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[trbl-will-find-me]

Every Exit, An Entrance 5/?

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option. Chapter CW: Explicit mention of suicide, no character death

She’s on her way to Mission Control when Royston flags her down with a piece of paper reading “HELP.” With the operative on the phone, she can only manage to shrug and mouth “What’s wrong?”

Royston rests the phone on her shoulder, jots down a note on the reverse of the page, and holds it up again: Parents.

The Commander motions for the paper and pencil, scribbling down her own response: Not happy w/ news?

Again, a transference of supplies.

Understatement, written in thick letters and underlined.

Why?

B/c “can’t marry someone you’ve only known since March.”

The Commander grimaces. She can appreciate Royston’s parents’ concern, but they have no idea what their daughter’s relationship has already endured. Oh brother, she writes back.

End me. Please.

Think Martin might be upset.

What makes you think his parents took it any better?

The Commander’s eyebrows shoot up and the other woman nods. There was shouting, she writes. A lot of it.

??

Nine months. Not French. Where live. Etc. You could mercy kill us both.

And then Central would kill me. Very bloody.

Royston shrugs, then nods.

Tell her you have to go, your CO needs you.

“Mom, mom, mom,” Royston says. “Mom, I love you, but we gotta table this. Mom, yes, I hear you. Mom, I gotta … Mom, duty … Mom, I love --- Mom, I’ll call you back. We’ve got a meeting. Yeah, the Commander is right here. She’s literally standing right here. Tapping her foot. You want me to put her on? No? Okay, good. Love you.” She sets down the phone and shakes her head. “Eloping is starting to look like a viable option,” she says, turning her attention to the Commander. “Skip all the bullshit.”

“You’d really want to cut them out?”

Royston shrugs. “I want to get married to the person I want to get married to where and how I want. We want,” she corrects herself. “If that means cutting them out, then, well. We’ll have a nice reception breakfast or something to make it up to them.”

“You’re resourceful people,” the Commander offers. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Part of me just wants to say fuck it and just do it here.”

“The base? It’s not exactly a scenic venue, Royston.”

“Yeah, but it’s one where we can’t invite anyone. Besides, everyone’s already here.“

“No friends on the outside?”

“I mean, yeah, but … “ She’s quiet for a minute. “These are the people we went through hell with. They’re the ones who watched this all happen, who,” she laughs. “Facilitated when we couldn’t get it together. They’re the ones who matter.”

The Commander considers this for a moment. “Well, think about it. If that’s really what you want, you’ve got my support.”

“Really?”

She shrugs. “I don’t totally endorse giant metal bunker as a wedding venue, but it’s not my wedding. If this is really where you want to have it, we’ll find a way.”

A crazy grin breaks out across Royston’s face. “Can I get back to you?”

“Yeah. It’s an open offer.”

“Thanks, Commander,” the sniper says, standing, “Let’s go see if I can sell him on this.”

“Good luck,” she grins. “I’ll be upstairs.”

Watching the operative head towards quarters, it finally dawns on her that she’ll need to explain this to Central. She laughs, and buries her face in her hands. It’s not the worst problem to have.

-- Kelly aims her shotgun at the Sectoid and pulls the trigger, splattering its blood across the ground.

“Good job, Menace. Looks like you’re clear on hostiles for the moment. Finish tagging those crates and let’s get you home,” the Commander says.

“Yes, ma’am!” Gunda calls cheerfully.

On the whole, it’s been a clean op. They’ve netted badly needed medical and construction supplies as well as, she hopes, additional intel from two datapads lifted from corpses. She doesn’t necessarily bear any confidence in her skills, but she’s at least comforted by the slow improvement in her men’s aim.

The air lifts in from Firebrand continue through the afternoon, and the unboxing well into the evening. Lily’s workshop slowly wills with new components and datapads to be reformatted, scrubbed clean of ADVENT programming. Tygan seems pleased to have his cabinets restocked, and everyone is grateful for new clothing, the abundance of toiletries, and the not insignificant ammo cache. The Armory looks more like a warehouse than Christmas morning, but the sentiment remains the same.

--

They’re eating dinner in the Situation Room, data on the energy spikes from the past week spread out in front of them. Each spike is pinpointed on the screen, along with a time, date, and amplitude. Save for the common link of alien incursions, there is no commonality. No consistent interval. While she has no doubt that there is a pattern, the more she stares, the more random it appears.

“Ugh,” she groans, burying her head in her hands. “What am I missing?”

“Commander,” Central says, voice gentle.

“There has to be something.”

“Commander.”

“We can’t get caught off guard again.”

“Commander.”

“We can’t afford a repeat of that site recon incident.”

“Elizabeth.”

“I hate to use the phrase ‘we got lucky’ when we lost an entire town, a Coast Guard team, and half of our squad –because that feels gauche– but ---“

“Lizzie.”

It’s enough to jar her from her train of thought. ”John?”

“You couldn’t have seen it coming. None of us could have. Chryssalids in a whale carcass on a fishing vessel? Come on. It ran counter to all the data we had.”

“There had to have been something I missed. We knew they could incubate in human hosts; it wasn’t a stretch to think they could take root in other mammals.”

“But we didn’t have evidence for it. You’re a good strategist, but even you’re not omniscient.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “We’ve had too many close calls. I’d like to get out in front before we have another.”

“If there’s a pattern, you’ll figure it out. And that’s a big if.”

“And what if I can’t?” She asks, voice tinged with worry. “What if I can’t put it together and they come barging down our door again?”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“You seem awfully certain of that.”

“Molchetti knocked the ship out of existence. The clean up ops we’ve run have been a few stray craft, or a cell that’s broken cover. They’ve been small.”

“What if they’re just biding their time, trying to lull us into a sense of security?”

“We’ll push them back again. We always find a way.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“Not faith. Evidence. You’ve got a track record now.”

She tips her head against his shoulder. “Well, you may start doubting that track record pretty soon.”

“Doubtful.”

She takes a deep breath, as if she were preparing to rip off a bandaid. “I volunteered the base as a wedding venue.”

He looks down at her with the same face he’d made when she’d jumped in the pool outside of Rome, that same mix of profound amusement and utter bewilderment. “We’re not exactly a chapel. And we can’t allow non-XCOM personnel on the premises.”

“That was a large part of the appeal, I think.”

“Royston and Martin?”

She nods. “Between them, they’ve got four very angry parents.”

“Expected that from Martin’s family, not Royston’s.”

“Royston’s mother went to town on her on the phone this afternoon. Martin apparently got a tongue lashing via video chat. “

Central rolls his eyes. “It’s not like they’re kids.”

“The nine months thing seems to be a sticking point. Along with the whole where will you live, where will you raise our grandchildren, and Royston’s not French debacles.”

“In short, everything.”

She shrugs. “Just about. Royston joked about having the wedding here as a solution, but the more she talked, the more she seemed to sell herself on the idea. I couldn’t tell her no. We’ll see how well it goes over with Martin.”

“And if he says yes?”

“Guess we’ll have to requisition an awful lot of crepe paper.” She settles her head back against his shoulder. “We’re not gonna make any progress on this tonight, are we?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s okay. It’ll look better when you stop chewing on it.”

They stay like that a few minutes, comfortable in the silence.

“Hey,” he finally says. “When all of this is over, you wanna get dinner sometime?”

She grins. “There’s a laundry list of things I’d like to do, but yeah, dinner sounds like a good start.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

She leans into him. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

--

If her time in the tank dulled anything, it is her ability to estimate the risk of interpersonal disaster. They had both been in the bar, fine. They’d had buffers, people who’d kept them engaged and occupied and otherwise uninterested in one another. She should have followed them out, should have gone up to her quarters, and taken a hot shower and gone to bed. She should not have sat across the bar from Central, nursing a beer while she reviewed the contents of the day’s grab. It was asking for trouble; this, of all things, she knows.

She doesn’t know what she expected. More silence? An attempt at conversation, maybe?

It’s not like her to miss the mark this badly.

“How could you do it, Lizzie? How could you help those things?” He asks, cracking open another bottle.

The accusation cuts deeper than she’s willing to let show. “You really think I said ‘sure, stick some chip in my head, throw me in a suit, and then stick the suit in a tank’? You think I didn’t try fighting?”

“Sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

She can feel tears welling behind her eyes, and she rubs at one, hoping to pass it off as an itch. “I didn’t have a whole lot of chances, Central. Any time I was awake and had any control over my own body, it was pretty well restrained. No one was exactly dumb enough to leave a scalpel in my reach. If I could have ended it or them, I would have. In a heartbeat.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he takes a sip. “You didn’t.”

“You can’t will yourself to death, not without some kind of help.”

“Even if you had the means, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“You think, if I knew what was coming, you honestly think I wouldn’t have turned the gun on myself when they went for me?

“Twenty years, you never made a go of it.”

“What, you want me to go slit my wrists in the shower to atone for it? Or, hell, you’ve got at least two pistols on you. Put your money where your mouth is.”

“No, that’s what they want. You’re a traitor, but you’re a useful traitor.”

“They used my own memories against me!”

“Twenty years! You know how much blood you have on your hands?”

“You’re not the only one who lost everybody!”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who had to watch as you helped kill them!”

It’s only then that she realizes it’s escalated into shouting. Loud voices. Metal ship. It’s really no surprise that most of the crew is crowded near the entrance to the bar. She can make out Shen and Herlihy, Kelly and Wallace, Royston and Krieger. She can almost see Thomas’s ridiculous braid over Wallace’s head, and she’s almost certain that’s Gunda next to him, with Tygan to his other side.

“Alright,” she says, turning her attention to the gathered crowd. “Everybody in. We’re gonna get this all out on the table. I’d rather it not feed the gossip mill.” She can feel Central’s eyes on her, but she won’t meet his gaze. She needs to keep her composure.

The assembled mass files in, taking positions along the wall and on the floor. It’s more than she realized, nearly the whole crew by her count. She wants nothing more than to disappear into the ether, crawl into bed and ignore the storm that’s broken over the ship.

“Everybody here? Good. Let’s get the record straight. When the XCOM base was overrun, I was taken. I had a Muton with a plasma rifle surprise me with a blow to the head that, yes, probably should have killed me and, yes, I do ask myself how and why it didn’t. I don’t have a coherent set of memories from the time I was captive. What I’ve got is fragmented and messy and … not pleasant to think about. “ She heaves a sigh.

“That being said, if you have questions about it, I’d rather you just asked me. What’s important to know is that, over the course of my time with the aliens, they implanted me with a chip, and passed tactical data through me. I was, quite literally, wetware. You can ask Doctor Tygan for the specifics --- he’ll be able to give you a more coherent explanation.” She pauses, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“For me, once I was sedated, I had no idea what I was experiencing wasn’t real. They were able to pull from my own memories of the invasion and first iteration of XCOM. The closest thing I can compare it to is a dream where everything makes sense, where there aren’t weird loopholes.” She swallows.

“Yes, the data they passed through me was used in their military ops against earth and later resistance forces.  Yes, I am profoundly disturbed by that fact. No, I didn’t have a conscious say in the matter. The chip has since been removed, there is no additional ADVENT hardware in me, and I will put a bullet in my own head before I let them recapture me.” She runs a hand through her hair.

“I welcome any comments, questions, concerns, what have you. This is standing policy You have a question you want answered, I’d rather you come to me. If I can’t answer it, I’ll direct you to whoever can. Anything immediate?”

“How’d they get it out?” Gunda asks.

“Same way it went in: incision in the soft palette and then cranial intrusion and extraction.”

“That sounds awful.”

“I don’t really recommend it.”

“Are you sure everything’s out?” Krieger chimes in. “You said you don’t remember it all.”

“Our contact in the Resistance was able to secure a technical schematic, and ensure its accuracy. It shows only one chip.”

“ADVENT tech gives off a recognizable signal,” Lily adds. “There’s nothing coming from the Commander.”

“Is there anything else that’s pressing?”

Silence.

“Fine. As I’ve said, if you have questions, it’s an open door policy. Dismissed.”

She watches the men and women under her command stand, and file out, grateful that the looks they offer her are more sympathetic than suspicious. ROV-R bobs nearby, offering a sad chirp as she joins the procession.

“Shen, Tygan, a minute?” She asks, gesturing them off to the side of the small corridor.

“First,” she begins, quietly. “I’d like to apologize for dragging you both into this mess. This was something Central and I should have kept between ourselves and we didn’t. In doing so, we flagged the whole damn crew, and the damage control has ballooned appropriately.”

“Second, I’d like to reassure you both that Central and I will … get our shit together, for want of a better term, and learn to behave like professionals. This won’t happen again.”

Over Tygan’s shoulder, she watches Royston turn, as if to go back into the bar, but be stopped by a shake of Kelly’s head, and thanks whatever powers that be. No one needs an encore of shouting.

“It’s not a problem, Commander,” Tygan says. “I anticipated there would be questions when the news broke outside of the senior staff.”

“It’s fine,” Lily says. “Just … if you two are gonna shout each other down, maybe not at 1:30 in the morning?”

The Commander nods. “You have my word.”

She mounts the ladder and climbs, then crosses through the bridge, and up to her quarters. She wants to scream, or throw something, or down too much liquor. She wants to do something stupid and reckless. Idly, the idea of just venturing back to the bar and settling things the old fashioned way, with blood and skin and broken bones, floats through her mind. She chases it away, knowing full well it won’t help – and it’s hardly the sort of professional coexistence she’s promised.

Besides, she doesn’t relish the idea of a broken nose.

[ultimateunadon-blog]

Hideyuki

“Go home, have a good rest and a nice long shower, and don’t stress yourselves out too much.”

I clearly recalled Coach Fujine giving us, at the end of the 4-hour training, just two days before the biggest judo championship in Tokyo, the same prerecorded motivational talk everybody knew. “Tomorrow’s a Saturday, but don’t be tempted to train till you die. I did that when I was your age, at my first competition. I died. At the most, just stretch or something. Relax, before the big thing. Sunday’s your day to shine, my boys…”

Especially you, Ryuji Yamagata. I have high expectations of you; it’s about time you defeated Tadakuni Kazejima, once and for all…

Most of it hardly registered. It was the same drivel, over and over again, year after year. Coach Matsuura said the exact same things back in 2014; then he retired and scurried off to his little cottage in Niigata, and Coach Fujine came in and repeated the same things. Didn’t help much; I had three silver medals hanging on my wall as testament to that.

I was too hungry to care, anyways.

The nine of us had a team dinner at the sukiyaki place near the DonQuijote store along Takadanobaba, all sponsored by Coach Fujine and his bottomless, everlastingly abundant wallet, and then we went our separate ways, back to our mansions and apartments. Most of us did, at least.

I didn’t feel like going home so early, and neither did Hideyuki Hayashi or Kaizo Tokuda.

We had dessert at a Korean bingsu establishment near the train station, and with that over and done with, Kaizo fell into the dreaded sleep coma, burping at regular intervals like a diseased toad and rubbing his fatigued eyes, his short-cropped hair still somehow shiny from sweat.

“I’ll just go home”, he murmured, almost incoherently, lumbering into Takadanobaba Station while rubbing his grotesquely bloated belly, the stubble on his face making him look at least two times older than his 17 years. “See you on Sunday, stupid bastards.”

So it was just down to me and Hideyuki.

My heart skipped a beat the moment Kaizo was out of sight.

“Say, Ryuji”, said Hideyuki, wrapping his lean arm round my shoulder, “wanna go watch a porno movie?”

“Meh, not tonight”, I replied dryly, my eyes drifting to his arm as we walked (catching a brief glimpse of his armpit, him being one or two centimetres taller than me). I couldn’t stop looking at Hideyuki’s arms; he looked really scrawny, especially thanks to his preferring slightly oversized shirts, but when he went bare and flexed, he looked like a veritable bodybuilder; much like Vladimir Putin, in fact, but with more lines and less overflow.

“Okay, then.”

I inserted the remnants of my small change (the irritating ¥10 and ¥20 coins) into a vending machine and bought two bottles of Calpis, tossing one to Hideyuki, before we both headed up one of the commercial buildings, sneaking onto one of the rooftops.

That rooftop in Takadanobaba was one of two secret hideaways that our team had found (the other being in Roppongi) that we abused to no end. The security guards at both places didn’t seem to care much for us, seeing as we were just high school boys looking for a place to relax. From our vantage point, we could see a pretty large distance; Akihabara at 10 o’clock from the entrance, a tiny speck of obscene glare on the horizon, screaming for attention amidst the already bright lights, and Ginza just nearby.

“You don’t need to go home?” Hideyuki asked me, putting the cloth bag he kept his judogi in on the floor, before sitting down and resting his head on it like a pillow, all while sipping at the milky white yoghurt drink. “I thought your mum was quite anal about you being late.”

“Not tonight”, I replied. “She’s playing in an LoL tournament till 3 in the morning. I doubt she gives a shit about where her poor failure of a son is hanging out.”

“Ayy”, he chuckled, capping the bottle, having finished almost a third of it in a single gulp. “My girlfriend would probably kill me if she found out I liked camping outside till morning, but she’s on a nine day school trip in Kyoto, so I’m fine. Besides, my parents don’t care either way.” He whipped out his Samsung Note 7 and began texting somebody.

I cracked the cap off the top of the bottle and took a sip of the white liquid, condensation running down my fingers and dripping on the floor. My gaze wandered around tiredly, but with each sweep of the eyes, I could not help but fix my sights on Hideyuki lying there, a limp yet defined figure resting under the blinded night sky, nonchalantly texting with one hand and holding up his bottle with the other. The veins on his arm seemed to crawl about every time he moved his arm.

“I didn’t know you watched porno movies”, I said to Hideyuki, attempting to break the awkward silence.

“Once in a while”, he replied almost incongruously nonchalantly. “I don’t find it arousing as much as I find it funny. Like Haruki Murakami said, it’s funny to think that the moment they start getting it on on screen, forty men suddenly have boners simultaneously.”

“Yeah… haha…”

The bizarre conversation ended abruptly, as I finished the last few drops of my drink without even realising it, tossing the bottle into the gigantic recycling bin nearby, before sitting down cross-legged beside Hideyuki’s flaccid figure reclined on the ground. He’d finished texting his girlfriend (a pleasant 15-year-old girl by the name of Yuriko, who spoke with a Nagoya dialect), and was playing Clash Royale, swearing every time a goblin barrel managed to land successfully on his end.

Quietly, I watched.

The final goblin barrel finally did him in, as his opponent snatched the first crown of the game in overtime, much to his chagrin, obvious from his closing the game and quitting it, before heading over to Instagram. I didn’t even know it, but I’d been sitting there for five minutes straight just staring at Hideyuki and whatever he was doing on his phone.

Hideyuki, evidently, also noticed, for he craned his head up and looked at me.

“Something wrong, Ryuji?” he asked.

“It’s just…” My thoughts were in a hurricane-like flurry. Perhaps it was the fatigue from four hours of almost nonstop training under Coach Fujine the Dictator; perhaps it was the sugar rush from the Calpis (especially considering the bingsu and the two cups of root beer I drank over dinner); perhaps I was just sleepy. But my tongue seemed to be acting independently of my brain.

“Just what?”

“I love you”, I blurted out, too confused to even begin rationalising what was going through my mind. “I’m gay.”

Which wasn’t, strictly speaking, wrong. I’d had fleeting attractions to the odd girl once or twice in my life, and even gone on a date with a classmate, but none had genuinely inspired the same warm, steamy feeling I felt the first time I hugged Hideyuki, back in 2015, when I first competed alongside him; we weren’t in the same school, but both of us were under Coach Fujine’s martial club. In the three months leading up to the championships that year, our two teams had trained alongside each other on Saturdays, and even though we were competitors (evident from the violent, almost beastly enmity with which both our sides seemed to view the others), that didn’t really stop me from interacting with Hideyuki. We weren’t even in the same weight category anyways (I was 58kg and he was 62kg), so any competition between the two of us was solely for school pride.

“Fuck school pride”, was how Hideyuki felt about it.

School pride never really had any need to get violated, for it was by a stroke of luck that both of us somehow ended up in the same high school the following year. The surprise written all over his face was matched by the hidden incandescence that suddenly rose from inside my belly, all the way up to my windpipe, in a way I’d never before experienced.

How my constant wandering thoughts about Hideyuki since that day had led to me unwittingly and spontaneously confessing my feelings for him on a Takadanobaba rooftop was something beyond my comprehension.

“You’re kidding”, said Hideyuki, grinning. His grin, though, was a lot less silly and clownish than it usually was. Like something was holding him back.

“N-no”, I added, suddenly in control of a body that had committed a crime without even knowing it. “I really… do…”

“You mean you-“

“It’s not that”, I protested wearily, knowing full well where that sentence was headed, my already ruddy cheeks flushing with steaming blood. “I hate the idea of doing the thing, but… but…”

I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but I was imprisoned by my language. No words could delicately and concisely explain what exactly it was I’d felt towards him since the beginning of the previous school year.

Hideyuki’s grin slowly faded. His teeth disappeared under the cover of his thin lips, surrounded all over by tan, golden skin, till his mouth had been curled into no more than the ghost of a smile, dreamy and reflective. His jet-black pupils, encircled by hazel irises, looked up into mine, and then his mouth slid back into a toothy gleam.

“Nice to know”, he said. It sounded sarcastic, but something about the way he gazed straight into my eyes convinced me otherwise.

Fatigue began to overcome me. The glowing in my chest, rather than subside from awkwardness, only waxed even further.

As he went back to his Instagram surfing, I slowly stretched out my legs and lowered myself, till my head was resting on Hideyuki’s torso sideways, my right cheek resting on his nicely-defined abdominal muscles which, unflexed, felt more like a medium-to-hard pillow than a washing board, as most people tended to describe abs. His body had a saline odour, but I didn’t care; it didn’t register at all.

So overwhelming was that gush of sauna water that engulfed my whole body, that for that one brief moment in time, it felt like everything in the universe had disappeared. No judo competition, no porno movies, no game-crazy mother. That the only things that existed were Ryuji Yamagata and Hideyuki Hayashi, intertwined like the symbiotic wires that made up a piano.

My moistened eyes could not hold out any longer. There was so much more I could have said that moment, so much more I wanted to say, but in the torrent of mellowness that I had suddenly been immersed in, all that slipped into warm, childlike oblivion.

“Love you, baby”, was all I could manage, as my eyelids began to succumb to the spell of sleep.

The last thing I remembered that night was Hideyuki, still lying down limply with his head on his pillow, chuckling softly and running his fingers through my hair.

“Love you too”, he added, as I slipped into warm slumber.

…

[defiantkingsnqueens-blog]

Watch Look Listen

Summary: Cash takes Dahlia out on a stakeout that she is far too impatient for, Cash does something for her she enjoys more. The two almost nearly go through with an abortion but in the end can’t bring themselves to do so.

Dahlia:

Dahlia and Cash were out doing some light work–the only reason he had allowed her to come was because it was mostly surveillance for a later mission. Otherwise he would have made her stay home. But the fresh air was helping with her morning sickness, which was getting worse by the day, just like her questioning over whether or not to go through with this was getting more prominent. But she hadn’t told Cash. She just couldn’t do it. So she was doing her best to just…pretend that things were how they were supposed to be. “Look,” she whispered to him from where they were hiding behind a building. “Is that him?” She asked, pointing to one of the Kings Guards. This was probably the fifth time that she had pointed to a Guard that wasn’t the one in question, but who was keeping count?

Cash:

Cash was seriously starting to reconsider letting Dahlia out of the house, but he had noticed that she usually wasn’t as sick when she was out in the fresh air so he had been trying to take her out a bit more. However at the moment, she was trying his patience in a big way. “For fuck sakes woman.” He shook his head, she had pointed out all the damn guards that passed. “Just quite for a little bit. I will tell you if I see him, listen to what’s going on though jeez.” Cash shook his head as he pulled his knees to his chest and just rested his head back against the building as he watched whoever passed by patience wasn’t a virtue of his but for his girlfriend? It seemed even worse.

Dahlia:

Dahlia was enjoying being outside for once. She had no idea what it was about being outside that perked her up and made her less sick, but she was seriously thinking that she needed to take walks every day if she could…maybe that would hold her over until…the procedure. Waiting for it to come was hell. She just wanted to put it past her, but getting appointments wasn’t easy. “Sorry,” she said, feeling her cheeks turn slightly pink when he scolded her. “I am listening!” She exclaimed, looking at him. But she moved so she was comfortable and stayed quiet for a few moments, before she looked at Cash. And then she looked away again. “How long have we been doing this?”

Cash:

The only thing holding Cash back from just taking her home was the fact that she was looking better, and perking up a bit. He missed seeing Dahlia as her old self before this baby got in the way and messed everything up. “No you are talking.” He replied rolling his eyes, Cash had a few minutes of silence before he shook his head. “Long enough for it to be time for me to take you home, come on you are not ready for this sort of work.” Cash pushed himself to stand as he held out his hand for Dahlia to take. 

Dahlia:

Dahlia was finally starting to feel somewhat like her old self…at least enough that she could fake it. She knew that Cash was missing how things used to be, so she was trying to show him that that girl did still exist. “I didn’t know we weren’t allowed to talk,” she replied, looking at him. She was just bored, but glad to be out of the house at the same time. It was a strange paradox. When he said that he was taking her home, she shook her head, stubborn. “I don’t want to go home,” she argued, frowning. Going home meant she had to stay inside and she was bored. “I’ll be good, promise.”

Cash:

Cash at times was starting to lose his patience. “You are but not to ask me every five minutes how long its been you are driving me nuts.” He admitted shaking his head he knew she was bored which is why in the moment he couldn’t sit there a moment longer. “Fine than lets go for a walk, please?” Cash would have one of the boys come stake the spot out but she was not the type to be placed on stake outs unless he wanted to drive his men insane than he’d gladly put her with them

Dahlia:

Dahlia bit her lip and looked at him when he spoke, she could see that he was losing his patience–something that she wasn’t entirely surprised about. “Sorry,” she said, frowning. “I didn’t mean to. I just…got bored,” she said sheepishly. Dahlia let him pull her up when he suggested they take a walk. “Okay,” she agreed, taking his hand and kissing his cheek. The more time she spent outside the better she was starting to feel, after feeling so crappy for so long. “Today’s a good day.”

Cash:

“Yeah I know you got bored that was painfully evident.” Cash didn’t think it was smart to let her do surveillance, often times him and the boys would sit there all day without talking and she couldn’t even last two hours. He smiled when she kissed his cheek, as he laced his fingers with hers. “Oh it is? What makes today a good day huh?” He questioned as he led her to a park that was near by the guards never went into it, it was a safe haven for the kids. Some agreement Cash had come up with the only semblance of one he had made with anyone. 

Dahlia:

Dahlia shot him a look, but then she laughed. “I can’t help it!” She exclaimed, looking at him. “I just get so bored, sitting around like that. And it’s not like anything got exciting,” she said, watching him. Dahlia smiled when he laced his fingers with hers. She bit her lip and looked at him. “Well…I got to spend time with you,” she said. “And…I’m not puking right now, which is a good change,” she mused. Dahlia walked with him to the park that she knew was safe from the Guards, she was glad that they could be together without any interruptions, at least for a while.

Cash:

“What do you do home all day then?” Cash truly didn’t have an idea on what Dahlia did in her spare time he knew he gave her plenty of it though. “Its not meant to be exciting, its survailence love.” He rolled his eyes,  a lot of what he did wasn’t exciting. “Hopefully you aren’t puking when we go home, and we can attempt some fun?” Cash asked biting his lip gently. He found a bench as he pulled her down to sit with him. “I am glad the kids growing up have a safe place to play, so they aren’t scared.” Cash mentioned offhandedly, he saw his boys growing younger and younger as parents were being offed. But yet all that destruction he saw was precisely the reason he couldn’t bring a child into this mess.

Dahlia:

She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s pretty boring too. I take baths…lay around, clean if I feel like it.” She did a lot more cleaning than Cash realized- his men were pigs and left the place dirty more often than not. “I thought that it was supposed to be exciting,” she shrugged. “It always looks fun,” she admitted. “I hope not…but…that would be fun,” she said, feeling a little uncertain about it. Things had changed in her, she felt like she looked different and she was scared Cash wouldn’t like it. Dahlia looked around the park and nodded her head, resting her head against him. “I am too,” she said softly, although there was something about that that felt like a knife to her heart. “It’s good that you did that.”

Cash:

“Oh take baths?” He teased her winking, he was just messing with her at this point, he really had no idea how much the boys messed the place up otherwise he would of told the guys to cut the shit out but she had never told him. “Yeah the movies did a better job of capturing it.” He said laughing softly, as he looked over at her. “Do you not want too?” Cash was trying his best to respect her wishes but ever since she found out she was pregnant she had been shooting him down left and right. “Well you see the guys like Mason they grew up being scared now their timid little shits.”

Dahlia:

“Of course, what else is there to do?” She asked with a laugh. She smiled at him and didn’t let him know what his guys did to their place when he wasn’t around. It didn’t bother her that much usually, since she could always find things to do that way. “Well that is very disappointing,” She said, shaking her head. Dahlia knew that he was trying to be good and respectful, and she really did appreciate it. “No…that’s not it. I just…don’t want to promise it to you…in case I get sick again,” she explained. “And…” she trailed off. “I’m just…nervous. About…what you would think,” she said. She smiled at him. “You love them,” She pointed out.

Cash:

“I have no idea, I never really thought about it, I usually have so much to do so.” He shrugged, despite that part of him was glad to take a break from it all and just enjoy the park with her. “You watch far too many old movies.” He teased her nudging her with her shoulder. “Oh well that makes sense trust me I’ve heard you in the mornings, I don’t want that with you while you are sick.” He looked confused though at her next words. “What I’d think? What is that about? Love we’ve had sex before so what you are pregnant? I heard it can be hot.” He said shrugging. “Yeah I do.” Cash froze a bit as he looked around he noticed a family far off, younger the woman was heavily pregnant with a small young child playing with the man.

Dahlia:

“I guess you do have a point,” she nodded her head. “You are the busiest man I know,” she said. “Which is why i’m so glad that you could take a break to be with me today,” she said. She rolled her eyes, but laughed. “What else can a girl do when she’s locked up in a tower waiting for her Prince Charming?” she teased. Dahlia looked down when he repeated her words. “I don’t know… Just… that it would be different. Or…you wouldn’t be attracted to me anymore…if you saw. Or if you thought about me…being pregnant,” she said softly. Dahlia’s smile was wiped off her face when she saw the family. That could be them, if they weren’t having this abortion…they could be a family. And it cut through her like a knife to see that family, so happy…so…loving. “Can we go home now?” She asked, her voice small.

Cash:

“You know I’d always make time for you, I may not have an abundance of it. But one day King Phillip will be taken down and we can live anyway we want too.” Cash told her giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “So now I am a prince Charming?” He asked laughing softly. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Well I over heard a conversation at the bar that women get very very sensitive and its quite pleasurable for her.” He shrugged as he looked confused. “Saw what? You look the same Dahlia, really.” He bit his lip, he did think about her being pregnant and it was still strange to him. Seeing her smile fall he sighed. He didn’t know why but seeing that family pulled at his heart strings. “What? Yeah of course.” He said softly, as he got up he helped her to her feet as he led her back to their flat, he watched her just go to the bedroom. “Dahlia….” He sighed softly running a hand through his hair he had no idea how to make her feel better anymore.

Dahlia:

“I know. But I know that I have to share my time with you. I can’t monopolize it all the time,” she shrugged. “I know. I can’t wait for that day to come. I know that it will,” she said, smiling up at him. She let him squeeze her hand and smiled at him. “Of course you are,” she said. “What else would you be?” She asked, smiling at him. She listened to him speak and shot him a look before she bit her lip. “That’s good to know, I suppose. Didn’t really think about that before,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t know. I guess…it’s all in my head. I’m scared that…that you won’t like me like that anymore,” she said. Dahlia didn’t say anything on the walk home. She just walked through the streets and went into their bedroom when they got home. She started sobbing, hating this baby so much for doing this to her. For doing this to Cash too. She just wanted to get past this, not realizing that there was no getting past this. That they had to deal with these consequences forever. She thought that if she had the abortion than everything would be normal again. She was wrong. “Cash,” she sobbed. “Get it out of me. Please,” her voice broke as she said please, looking beggingly at him. “I can’t do this. Get the doctor. So-soon. I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t,” she sobbed brokenly.

Cash:

“Oh if I gave you that option, I know you so would.” He teased, he knew she enjoyed her time with him, and he did too. “Yes it will love, and I don’t know I guess I never really thought of how you thought about me.” He didn’t mind being her prince charming even if he didn’t feel like it in the moment. “See? Could be fun. Love if I wasn’t interested I wouldn’t be begging for sex.” Cash reminded her as he gave her a look back. When they got home he was concerned, as he looked at her on the bed sobbing his heart broke hearing her, he walked over to her and just laid behind her pulling her back gently against him. “Okay, okay I will call the doctor and get you in in the morning I promise.” He whispered stroking her hair he just wrapped her up tight in his arms.

Cash made the call once he had gotten Dahlia asleep, he forced the doctor to take them in, early the next morning, he had already gotten up and dressed as he stroked her hair away from her face softly. “Love it’s time to get up.” For a brief moment he had thought about keeping the child, but seeing her so broken last night he just knew it was for the best and he’d pick up the pieces later. “We have to get to the doctors like now dear.” He was doing his best to be strong but this was cutting him up, more than he ever wanted to show.

Dahlia:

Dahlia had collapsed on the bed, and just sobbed, unable to control herself. She didn’t want to have this abortion, she was realizing quickly that she wanted this baby. She really and truly did. But she couldn’t have it that way, because Cash…Cash didn’t. And she couldn’t do that to him. Not if he was so against the baby. So instead of speaking up, all of these emotions had been bottled up and now she was sobbing and she couldn’t stop. Dahlia felt him wrap his arms around her and still sobbed, even as he promised that he would call the doctor in the morning and get them in tomorrow, that this would all be over. She ended up crying herself to sleep. 

Morning came quickly, and Dahlia didn’t want to wake up and look at Cash. Her eyes were shut and she wanted to keep it that way, even if she was awake. But then she heard that they had to be at the doctors, and she looked at him and nodded her head. “Okay,” she said hoarsely. She managed to get out of bed and get dressed, and she just looked at him when it was time to go. “Ready?” She asked.

Cash:

Cash had no idea why she was so upset with him, but after spending the entire night with her just crying herself to sleep, he saw by morning that things weren’t any different. She had to realize that this was killing him to do no? But they couldn’t raise a child in this mad mad world they lived in. He saw how she wouldn’t look him in the eye and just hoped that they could repair things when they were done. He was only doing this for her. “Yeah lets go.” Cash didn’t truly know if he was ready for it but he just walked along side of her, until they got to the doctors, he walked to the nurse who ushered them into the back.

Cash sat next to her and the nurse told them it was customary to at least hear the heartbeat before they did the procedure. Cash thought it had to be some cruel joke to force them listen to this thing live before they took its life. He clenched his hands hard as he couldn’t look at Dahlia, that steady thumping would haunt his nightmares for years to come he’d just think of that heart beat something so innocent and how he was so cruel not to stop it. Cash looked away as a tear escaped his eye, the doctor explained the procedure it was basically cutting up the small thing whatever it was. Cash let them prep Dahlia as he took her hand squeezing it tightly but as the doctor moved the instrument closer, Cash just thought of that heartbeat, and then the family in the park. “Stop!” He shouted at the doctor, he shook his head looking at Dahlia now. “I thought I could do this, it’s up to you in the end it’s your body. But god. I don’t leave anybody behind, and it wasn’t real up until that thumping of their little heart. But this baby? Our child it’s alive, and I don’t leave a man behind, I won’t leave any kid behind you know me. We could be that family in the park, we could be happy when this war is over. With our baby.” Cash had no idea how to be a father but he’d sure as hell figure it out. “I suck at a whole lot of things, but if you have any sliver of doubt inside of you, please for the love of god lets not go through with this.” He glared at the doctor. “You get that fuckin’ thing away from her you understand me? Unless she agrees to this, you fuckin’ keep it away.” He growled the man finally backed off and held his hands up he looked back to Dahlia. “I am sorry I was such a fuckin’ prick.”

Dahlia:

It wasn’t that she was upset with Cash…but a part of her felt like this was all her fault and that he had to resent her for messing up so badly. Because that was how she was viewing this. As messing up big time by getting pregnant. And maybe a part of her was upset that Cash got her pregnant. But there was nothing she could do now but…have the abortion. Because that was what Cash wanted. He had been so clear about that. And even though she didn’t want it… well it didn’t matter what she wanted.

Getting to the doctors office, she became more and more withdrawn and scared over doing this. Her mind was racing, and every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run, to screw this, to not go through with this. But then she looked at Cash and reminded herself that she really had to do it. That she had to have this abortion because they couldn’t raise it in this horrible world. That would be cruel. But then they were told that they had to listen to the heartbeat and she suddenly felt panicked. She didn’t want to hear the heartbeat, but as the nurse put the machine on her stomach, and they could hear the steady thumping of their baby’s heart…she realized just how much she didn’t want to do this. That she didn’t want to kill their child. Dahlia closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths as the doctor got the machine, she was staring at it in horror, when Cash suddenly said stop. She didn’t look at him, not knowing what he was saying to stop. And then he was talking, and tears were pouring down her cheeks as he begged her not to go through with this. “I want to be that family. I want to be that with you,” she sobbed, looking at him. She suddenly felt free, like she had never felt. That they could have this baby and be happy was so freeing to her. This was all she had wanted, was for Cash to stop this, to tell her to keep the baby. And she suddenly didn’t even care what the logistics were going to be, so long as she could have their child, have the family she had wanted with Cash. “No, i don’t want to do this,” She sat up and reached out for Cash, needing him to hold her. “I want the baby. I want the baby so badly I ache,” she whispered to him as he held her and she buried her face in his chest. “I love you so much. We’re not leaving this baby behind. We can’t.”

Cash:

From the moment he heard that heartbeat, it was a done deal for him. He couldn’t allow her to get rid of the baby not at all. They were both doing it for the other when all the while they truly did want the child they created. “We will be a family Dahlia I promise.” He told her moving to hold her his hand covered her stomach for the first time as he did so allowing her to bury her head in his chest. “Shh you don’t have too love, its done its over. We didn’t do it.” He reassured her as the doctor grumbled but let the two be. “I love you too, and no we aren’t, its coming along for the wild ride okay? So how about you let me get you home.” Cash just wanted to get out of this horrible place to get Dahlia out of her, back home back into their bed safe and sound, her and the baby.

Dahlia:

Dahlia finally felt this wave of relief when she realized that they weren’t going through with it, that they were going to raise this baby together and be a family. For the first time since she found out she was pregnant, she just felt at peace with it all, and she smiled at him. “We’re going to be a family,” she said, as he moved to hold her and rested his hand on her stomach. She put her hand over his for a moment and leaned up and kissed him before she buried her head in his chest. She didn’t care what the doctor thought, he wasn’t getting their child. It wasn’t going to happen. They were going to do everything they could to protect this child. “That…sounds amazing,” she said, looking around. “I want to get out of here,” she said, taking his hand. “Can we go back to sleep?” She asked with a wry smile on her lips. “Maybe…try to have some fun again? And then sleep?”

Cash:

Cash didn’t care what the cost was for him, he’d make it work he’d steal everything they needed or do odd jobs to come across some honest money. But for the first time since she told him, he felt like the man he was supposed to be. “Yes we are love, yes we are.” Cash just held her tightly not wanting to let her go as he kissed her back there was some passion in his kiss though. Looking around he nodded. “Same this place is fucking weirding  me out, although if we see that doctor again I won’t promise not to sucker punch him, fucking bastard.” Cash helped her up as he nodded. “Sure love whatever you want.” Cash’s face lit up when she mentioned some fun first. “I’d love to see all these changes you are talking about so sure.” Cash wanted her to have some positivity about her body because even though he hadn’t seen the changes he figured he wouldn’t mind so much.

Dahlia:

Dahlia knew that this was going to be hard, but it didn’t even matter. All that truly mattered was that they were having their baby, and that things were going to turn out just fine. That they would be a family. And for the first time, she felt like they could really do this. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispered to him, as he held her tightly. She had missed feeling the passion in their kisses. It was like this decision had fixed the problem in their relationship. The passion was back, and things were going to be okay again. They had to be. She nodded her head when he spoke, giggling. “I will gladly let you do it,” she promised, shaking her head as he helped her up. She giggled when his face lit up. “I would love to see that i’m not crazy,” she grinned, giggling. She took his hand in hers and hugged him. “You’re going to be a good daddy,” she whispered in his ear, wanting him to know that she thought he was going to be fantastic.

Cash:

“I love you too, you dork.” He said laughing softly, he pulled back a bit but slid his hand into hers and laced their fingers together. “Oh you will gladly let me? Good.” Cash really did want to punch the guy out as he helped his girl to her feet. “When did I think you were crazy?” He teased, as he hugged her back, he smiled at her words pressing his lips to her neck for a moment. “Thank you, you are going to be brilliant as a mum.” He told her honestly, as he pulled back. “Come on lets get home, you said sex now that’s all I want.” He joked as he led her out he faked like he was going to hit the doctor who flinched away, causing for Cash to laugh. “Fucking pussy.” He shook his head as he walked Dahlia home. He looked at Jimmy and Mason. “Clear out you tossers now.” He told them as he just let Dahlia drag him by his belt.

Dahlia:

Dahlia laughed and didn’t even care that he was calling her a dork for once. She bit her lip and looked at him when he laced their fingers together and spoke. “Yes,” she said, giggling. “I mean it’s only right, isn’t it?” She asked with a grin and a laugh. She bit her lip and watched him. “I think you’ve thought that I was crazy for a while, love,” she replied easily, knowing she hadn’t been the easiest person lately. She closed her eyes when he kissed her neck, nodding her head. “Thank you,” she said. She laughed. “Oh, of course,” she said, shaking her head and sighing. “Never should have promised it to you,” she teased. Dahlia laughed when Cash faked out punching the doctor and grinned at him. “I love it,” She said, laughing and kissing his cheek. She watched him and walked back home, and grinned when he kicked Jimmy and Mason out. “Let’s go, lover,” she teased, dragging him to the bedroom while Jimmy and Mason rolled their eyes at each other.

Cash:

“Yeah it’s right.” He shook his head. “I thought you were hormonal as fuck.” It was true she was like a damn tornado for a while there but he hoped now that they agreed to keep the baby he could reap the benefits or so he hoped. “Welcome love.” He told her as he smirked as they got back to the flat and kicked the boys out. “Oh fuck yes daddy’s getting laid.” He said grinning the moment though that they got to the bedroom he gently pushed her onto the bed. “I have plans for you first you will be one satisfied woman when I am done.” Cash whispered before he moved down her body.

Cash was laying next to her smirking, as he looked over at Dahlia’s frame. “To say women are more sensitive is an understatement.” Cash said cockily, after their little passionate session he was feeling back on his game again like the King at the top of the world. He hadn’t minded her body changes either after a bit and had shown her as much.

Dahlia:

Dahlia looked at him and shot him a look. “I couldn’t help it. I had a lot of emotions,” she said, shrugging. “But now…I feel a lot better. I hope that now it will be better,” she said. She really and truly did hope that it would get easier now that they agreed to keep the baby. She looked up at him and smiled when he said welcome. Mason rolled his eyes. “I think we preferred it when you two didn’t rip each others clothes off every ten seconds,” Mason shouted after them. Dahlia looked up at him and grinned. “Oh, you do?” She asked. “I can’t wait. You never make promises you can’t keep,” she grinned.

She was feeling exhausted after their fun. She felt her cheeks turn slightly pink as she grinned at him. “I think that you weren’t kidding,” she said, giggling. She leaned over and kissed him gently again. “I love you, Cash. Thank you for dealing with me through all this stuff. You’re the most amazing boyfriend a girl could ask for.”

Cash:

“I am glad you are feeling better, and I hope it will get better as well.” Cash could sense the reason she was so emotional was over the thought of getting the abortion. But now that the threat of that had come to pass, maybe they could relax and just figure out how the hell they were going to do this. Cash just smirked at the young boy. “When you get laid on a regular, you will come to enjoy a woman wanting to tear your clothes off.” He winked laughing as he moved with his girlfriend. “No I do not love.”

Smirking over the fact that he got her to blush he shook his head. “I don’t think I was either.” He gave her a dogish look as he kissed her back his arm slipping comfortably around her. “I love you, Dahlia. Thank you for being a girl whose more than worth it.”

Dahlia:

Dahlia nodded her head. “I think that it will get better as well,” she said, looking up at him. She knew that she was only getting so emotional because she couldn’t stand the thought of having the abortion. She wanted to keep the baby no matter how hard it was going to be. She was just happy to have him and be close to him. She ran her hand through her hair as Cash teased Mason, laughing. “Yeah, you will, Mace, but it’ll take some time, I know,” she teased back. “Screw you both,” Mason rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning pink. 

It made her smile when she looked at him and rested her head against him for a moment. She laughed. “I loved it,” she said, kissing him back. She smiled when he slipped his arm around her. “I love you too, Cash. Thank you for being my Prince Charming,” she grinned.

Cash:

“I sure hope it does, I like seeing you smile again tho.” Cash admitted, it was nice seeing her happy. He had felt strange seeing her so upset all the time. “Sorry I am going to be busy for that she will be too.” He shot back cheekily to Mason.

Cash just adjusted his frame so she could lay against him, not minding one bit. “I am glad that you did, I loved it too.” Cash rolled his eyes a bit as he then bit his lip. “I guess I kind of lived up to that Prince Charming bullshit.” He bit his lip, not wanting to really accept that.

Dahlia:

Dahlia bit her lip and looked at him. “I like smiling again. And I like seeing you happy,” she said. “I know I was making you miserable. I’ll be better now,” She said. Dahlia laughed and grinned at Mason before they went into the bedroom. “You’re so bad,” she teased.

She felt comfortable laying with him. One of her favorite things to do was to just lay in bed with him, curled up in his arms. It was just nice to not be doing something for once, and to just relax with him. She looked up and smirked. “You are my Prince Charming, admit it, my love,” she teased. “Even if you don’t want to admit it,” she said, seeing through him.