#nothing lol. shes used by one eye and then clear sky as his mate lol

[harriertail]

oh daughter dear, won’t you show yourself?

[bestiesenpai]

Canidae - Geto Suguru

Ah, my first hybrid au and full on yandere piece for jjk! A momentous occasion, I hope everyone likes it lol, femme reader btw. 7.5k words

part two

Content warnings: pseudo-incest, yandere shit, kidnapping, not a/b/o but there’s mentions of going into heat, size difference(although I’m not sure how well I wrote it), talking about a past murder(but no actual killing), choking, stalking, dumbification, kind of shy/skittish reader, drugging(w/ pills and w/ a syringe), brief mention of drug usage, needles, slimy men...there’s a lot of slimy men in here

(S/N) = stage name

It’s been about two months since you ran away from home. You try not to think about it, but in the quiet moments of the day, the hours that you should be using to sleep before your next shift, during meals and even at work, it creeps up like a sickness that just won’t leave.

You hadn’t wanted to leave your home, even if the people there weren’t really your family by blood. After being adopted by the Getou family in your late childhood, you thought life would get better. They seemed like a wonderful family of fox hybrids, all silky black hair and cunning little smiles. Although they weren’t in your same species family, as a house cat you could get along with them easily, a subtle praise to evolution for making foxes more like cats than dogs.

“Hey house cat, stop sulking by the bar and go talk to customers.” A slap on the wall next to you jolts you out of your thoughts and into the loud and bustling world around you.

“S-sorry boss.” Ducking your head away from your furious boss, you adjust the skimpy shorts and crop top that truly did nothing to hide your skin. Working at a seedy hostess bar wasn’t exactly the plan when you ran away, but they were the only place willing to hire you.

Looking out across the crowded bar floor, at least you didn’t have to worry about going out on the street and handing out flyers to get customers tonight. There were several men of different species and ages, sitting at the bar with dark liquor or having pretty bunny girls pour drinks from overpriced bottles at private tables.

Taking a glance at what table you’d been assigned, your stomach twisted in knots. It was a table full of lion men, their business suits wrinkled beyond hope and their manes even more disheveled than what was normal for a lion.

“Hey pretty kitty!” One of them shouted drunkenly, waving a large clawed hand at you as you shuffled closer.

“H-hello.” Giving a nervous wave, you felt a little better at seeing a coworker - a red panda hybrid - sitting between a few of them.

“Ah this is (S/N), she’s a newbie!” The girl, who called herself Fuyumi, announced. Holding up her glass in salute, she took a sip.

“Fresh meat huh?” Suddenly, all eyes were on you again, but the atmosphere shifted. A predatory look was shared between the group and a few men got up to let you slide into the booth, next to your coworker.

“What a pretty little thing you are.” A lion purred loudly next to you, putting a heavy hand around your arm and squeezing your shoulder.

“T-thank you! Let me- let me pour you a drink?” Shrinking under the weight and his lecherous gaze, you grabbed the liquor bottle they ordered and refilled a few drinks that needed to be topped up. Your ears were pressed flush to your head from the nerves, tail slightly puffed up behind you.

“So, your name is (S/N)?”

“Mhmm!” The stage name was something you thought of on the fly, trying to make it the least like your real name as possible. Accepting a drink from Fuyumi, you tried to ease the anxiety pricking at your skin.

Listening in on a story being told by one of the men, you tried to act like you were paying attention. Faking a smile, laughing loudly and keeping the drinks full - those were the only things on your mind. Not the clients walking by being escorted to secret back rooms or the people so obviously snorting something up at one of the tables in the back.

“(S/N), you’ve been quiet!” The man with his arm around you shook you side to side, his eyes falling to your breasts moving and being squished together when he squeezed you to him. “Tell us about yourself!”

“Uhm-” Taking a quick glance at Fuyumi, you cleared your throat. “Well I’m new to Tokyo-”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He cut you off, an eager look in his eyes. You shook your head obediently. Even if you did have a boyfriend, you couldn’t say yes. You had to be seen as attainable, just within arms reach if they wanted to have you for themselves.

“That’s good, the boys in Tokyo won’t do you any good.” A man to your left chimed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off his hairy chest covered in golden fur. “But the men in Tokyo are a different story.” He winked at you and you forced a giggle up, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your slight displeasure.

“Yeah, what you need is a man, (S/N). You seem so nervous!”

“House cats usually are.” Fuyumi piped up. Grabbing your chin, she pursed your lips with the tips of her white painted claws. “Isn’t that right?” Cooing at you like a baby, she shook your head and turned you to face the men at the table. “(S/N) was so nervous for her interview she nearly cried!”

A round of mocking teases sounded at the table as Fuyumi let go of you, some of them calling you a ‘poor baby’ while others offered to buy you another round of drinks to help you feel better. Your face burned, embarrassment and the close proximity of all the bodies around you making a light sheen of sweat glisten on your skin.

“I’m fine now, though, promise!” Biting your lip, you did as you’d practiced before your shift: putting an arm under your breasts, you pushed it up and tilted your head down, looking up at the men from beneath your lashes. “I feel much better with all these big strong men here.”

It made you sick, the way they all leered at your body and visibly adjusted the front of their pants. Ordering a few more bottles for the table, the sick feeling refused to leave. It clung to the back of your throat, rising bile that refused to be swallowed down.

Hours later, as the sun began to rise and proper members of society were starting to head to work for the morning, you were finally done with work. The table of lions had bought your time for the whole night, their egos boosted by your show of submission.

“You actually did okay tonight, house cat.” Your boss grunted, thumbing through the cash she was counting. “Here’s your cut.” Holding out a handful of bills, you knew better than to question how much was in it. The last time you’d tried to speak up about being shorted, your only window was shattered by a brick and it cost all of your money to fix it.

“Thank you.” Nodding politely, you took it from her hand. It felt slightly larger than normal, but you knew it wasn’t the full amount you’d been promised to receive when you started working. There was always a bit taken off the top, and since you were a newbie, even more.

Quickly changing into baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, you slinked out of the club's back entrance with your hood drawn tightly. Located in the red light district, no one batted an eye at you or where you worked, but it wasn’t them you were worried about.

Running away from home meant running away from the only family you had left, an over controlling big brother with an obsession. An obsession with you. Ever since you met, got adopted all those years ago, he had been infatuated with you.

As a young, freshly teenaged fox, suddenly acquiring a little sister had been exciting. Especially when it turned out you weren’t the same species. He always wanted to be around you, ask you questions about what it was like to be a cat. At first they were innocent, asking about your diet and favorite toys, but as he got older, his interest in you skewed.

You saw the search history on his computer, he spent hours researching cat hybrid heat cycles and when the best time to mate was. He started to go through your phone, taking it away from you under the guise of just being an annoying older brother while secretly looking through all your messages. Always getting jealous if you hung out with friends or didn’t want to sit in his room with him. And his friends knew about his obsession, feeding into it and talking about how much they wished to have a little sister like you, and if he’d be so kind as to share.

Your older brother became more obsessed with you while he was looking for a job after university. Spending hours applying for jobs and going to interviews, he wouldn’t shut up about getting a good job and moving out with you. And when he finally got that good job he always mentioned, that’s when you had to run.

Walking with your head down through the streets, waiting at a crosswalk to pass had you on edge. Just remembering the way he held your hand in public with a grip tight enough to cut off circulation had you shoving your hands into your pockets. A couple walked across the street with their arms around each other, and suddenly the suffocating weight of your brother's arm around your waist as he slept in your bed with you was back.

Forcing air through your lungs, you ran the rest of the way home. It wasn’t a long way to the crummy apartment block you called home and you were inside your cramped studio space and crumpled against the door in no time.

It didn’t always feel good to be in here with it’s water stained ceilings, barely usable pipes and the one, barely big enough window near the front door. You could hardly call it a home, it was just a room with the mattress you bought second hand and the clothes you ran away with strewn across the floor with a tiny kitchen shoved into the corner and a bathroom that surely wasn’t up to code.

But for now, it felt amazing. Your running had only exacerbated the exhaustion you had from working such grueling hours, and just crawling over to your dirty bed took all the energy you had left. With the sun beginning to rise properly into the sky, you closed your eyes and went to sleep.

The sudden alarm from the crappy phone you bought was what woke you up, the early evening sun and the sound of your neighbors yelling at one another through the walls pulling the last few bits of sleep from the edges of your mind.

And so do the set of crystal blue eyes staring in at you from your window, one that not even you can see out of because it’s too high.

“Sat-” The name catches in your throat, and when you blink again the eyes are gone. Rushing out of bed, you rip open the front door and look up and down the hallway. But there’s no one there, no bright white arctic fox fur to be seen, and certainly not the man attached to it.

Gripping the door tightly in your fingers, you linger in the threshold. The longer you stayed out, the more the vivid eyes watching you sleep became a memory, something your overworked mind must have conjured up as it went from sleeping to being awake. With a shaky sigh, you step back into your apartment to get ready for your next shift.

Meandering through the busy streets, you passed by shops that were starting to become familiar to you. There was the odd convenience store, a few illegal gambling dens with restaurant fronts, strip clubs and sex shops.

With time to kill before your shift, you dashed into a convenience store, it’s stark fluorescent lighting a nice switch from the everchanging neon signs outside. Scrounging up what little pocket change you had, you bought the cheapest food possible and sat down at the tiny table near the windows.

Eating slowly, trying to savor not only every bite but every minute before going back to work, a flash of white caught your eye as the convenience store door was opened. The little jingle that played was the only indication someone had actually entered, you barely saw the door open or close.

You could only see a glimpse of the pure white, not even a full on look. Glancing over your shoulder, you didn’t see anyone standing in the aisles, no ears stuck out to give you an indication as to who had come in.

But there was the feeling of being watched that had you on edge. When you turned fully away from the window to look at the store behind you, there wasn’t anyone watching you, yet the feeling still stuck. The target on your back had just been shot dead center, a sharp pang of fear gripped your heart the longer you looked at the seemingly empty aisles.

“Long way from home, little kitten.” A familiar face emerged from your right, but it wasn’t the man you thought it was.

“N-nanami?” It was a shock to see him in a neighborhood like this, his pristine suit more fitted for the financial district a few train stops over that he sometimes visited for work. He was in his usual suit, the one he liked to wear when he was over at your house, and his blond ears and tail were as immaculately trimmed and proper as ever.

“Hm, you’re not calling me Kento-nii anymore?” He said scornfully, sliding into the seat next to you and leaning his elbows on the table.

“Sorry, Kento-nii.” Bowing your head, you turned back to the table as well. Clenching your quivering hands in your lap, your claws dug into your skin to try and ground yourself. Kento hadn’t even said much and yet you were ready to pass out.

“Why’d you run away? You know we all miss you.” Leaning his head in his hands, Kento stared out the window at the people walking by. His lip curled a little in disgust, and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “This isn’t the place for a girl like you.”

“You know why I had to leave.” Staring down at your hands, your eyes burned as you blinked away tears at the memories forcing their way back to you.

“I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“Kento-nii, please-” Your voice trembled, catching in your throat as it broke.

“Tell me, (Y/N). Why did you leave?”

“S-su-” It made you want to throw up just saying his name, so you didn’t. “He killed our parents.” Saying it out loud made the painful burn behind your eyes grow stronger until you were blinking hot tears down your cheeks.

“That’s not true.” Kento said calmly while turning to you. “Your parents died from-”

“Don’t lie for him!” You shouted, finally looking up at Kento. As soon as your voice raised, he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, forcing your head against his chest and pulling you into a tight hug. Dipping his head down, Kento’s chin brushed your ears as he pressed his lips to them.

“Listen little kitten, you know better than to raise your voice at me. And you know better than to lie.” The fingers around your neck tightened and Kento dug the tips of his claws against your pulse. “Your parents died in a murder-suicide, nothing more nothing less.”

“Let go!” You sobbed, thrashing around in his hold. It was truly useless to try and fight against him. Foxes - and truly, a lot of other hybrid types - were much larger and stronger than you. There wasn’t any chance you had at trying to beat him in strength, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

“Calm down, you’re making a scene.” Fully enclosing his hand around your neck, Kento squeezed the air from your throat and shut down the subsequent scream that followed. Reduced to whimpering, you stilled your body and tried to tug his hand off.

Gasping and choking when he finally let you go, your body was weak from the lack of oxygen and you fully slumped into Kento’s hold. Struggling to catch your breath, there was little solace you could find in his hand stroking between your shoulder blades.

“Come home, (Y/N).” He said gently, like he was coaxing a child into eating their unwanted vegetables.

“No.” Shaking your head weakly, your body trembled violently. Kento didn’t need to speak for you to know he wasn’t pleased with your answer, the pregnant pause that followed was enough.

“Why must you be so difficult, hm?” With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Kento let you sit upright again. Tsking at your bloodshot eyes dripping with tears, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped your face clean.

Your lower lip shook as you looked up at him, honey colored eyes to match his blonde hair. Vertical pupils stared back at yours, the only thing the two of you really had in common.

“I’ll ask one more time: will you come home with me, (Y/N)?” Cupping your cheek, Kento wiped the snot dripping from your nose and the drool that had started to drip past your lip. “If you say no one more time, I can’t promise anything.”

“Kento-nii…” Sniffling pathetically, you blinked hard and shook your head.

“(Y/N).” Groaning in annoyance, Kento dropped his hands and put his head back. “I don’t think you’re listening-”

“Y-you listen to me!” Standing up abruptly, your chair fell over from the force and loudly clattered to the ground. “I’m never going back there! Not ever!” It was dangerous to shout at Kento, especially as you saw his pupils begin to dilate. Out of all your brothers friends, he was the one who took the rules most seriously.

Grabbing the food you had left, you ran out of the convenience store. As your feet slammed against the pavement, you didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if he was chasing after you. Kento hadn’t been the type to play those sort of chase games back at home, but the desperation to have you back in that house was strong enough that he just might follow you.

Running all the way to the clubs back entrance, you slipped inside and hid in the storage room. No one truly bothered to come back there anyway, it was the perfect place to hide behind a few untouched boxes until it was time for your shift.

“Hey house cat, someone personally requested you.” Your boss grunted when she saw you, a cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

“Who is it?” Attempting to look at the clipboard in her hands, you didn’t quite catch the name of the person that was written down.

“Who cares, it’s some rich fox wearing glasses. He’s at the back, you can’t miss his white hair.”

“What?” Your eyes shot open, heart stopping as her words bounced around your skull. It was too much of a coincidence that Kento had found you and now a white haired fox had requested you.

“Hey.” Grabbing you by the shoulder, your boss glared at you and turned your body around. “Get to work already and stop zoning the fuck out. You don’t want to make me put you on flyer duty do you? There’s some weirdos out tonight that would just love-”

“No! No, I’m sorry ma’am. I’ll get going right away.” Stepping away from her tight hold, you tried not to tremble as you walked to the back table. As you got closer, your knees nearly gave out on you as the fear you had was materializing right before your eyes.

It was indeed Gojo Satoru, your brother's best friend and the deadliest arctic fox you’ve ever come to know. With his pristine snow white hair and ears, keen blue eyes and those trademark dark sunglasses he wears, there was no mistaking him.

“Hey, little sister.” He crooned as you slid into the booth next to him, keeping a healthy distance between the two of you. “Missed ya.”

“Toru-nii, why are you here?” Keeping your eyes locked on the melting ice in his cup, you could barely breathe from the weight of your fear. There wasn’t anything that Satoru couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do. He’d always been the smartest, the strongest, he could beat any hybrid in anything he set his mind to, even with clear biological differences set between them.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m here to see my favorite little kitten at her new job!” Throwing his arms open wide, Satoru had an easy smile on his face despite your obvious discomfort. “Although, I can’t say you’re doing very well so far. My glass is still empty.”

Wordlessly, you stiffly poured him a drink and slid the glass over to him. Pouring one for yourself as well, you clinked your glasses together when he raised it and took a short sip. Usually you didn’t drink on the job, getting the bartenders to mix you something that was mostly pure juice. But tonight you needed to take a bit of edge off.

“Please just go.” Forcing the words out of your tight throat, a wave of nausea washed over you as Satoru put his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t leave here without you.” His lips brushed your ears like they used to back at home, but this time he wasn’t whispering crude little jokes to get you to giggle. Sliding his hand from your shoulder to around your ribs, Satoru quickly overwhelmed your personal space with the size of his body.

“Toru!” You gasped as his claws dug into your ribs, threatening to push through the spaces and break them entirely. Tugging on his hand, you looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to your lonely little table in the back.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. Kento already tried to be nice and you were just so mean to him.”

“T-toru-nii, please!” Desperate tears sprang to your eyes as every word he spoke was punctuated with a tightening grip around you.

“And here I thought we trained you to be a good girl, (Y/N), I really did. But good girls don’t yell at their big brothers, they don’t lie and-” Satoru broke off to send a charming smile to a few passing hostesses before returning to you, “They certainly don’t run away.”

A choked sob racked through you, drowned out by the loud music being played overhead. In your struggle to get his hand off, you hadn’t realized Satoru slid you onto his lap until it was too late and he could wrap both long arms around you.

Forced to lean back against his lanky body, his fluffy white tail wrapped around yours, deftly hugging it close to him. Engulfing your scantily clad body, Satoru burrowed his nose between your ears, inhaling the scent he always said he liked back home.

“I’ve always wanted to see you wear something like this, ya know.” Thumbing the edge of your crop top, Satoru dipped his fingers underneath the fabric. “Always wanted to dress you up and play pretend, be my cute little hostess for the night.”

“Stop.” Grabbing his wrist, your eyes desperately searched for someone to come save you. But being seated at a table so far in the back of the club was playing to Satoru’s advantage; no one really paid attention to the back of the club because that’s where the truly shady things happened.

“C’mon kitty, play with me.” Satoru whined, bouncing you on his lap a few times. He was always childish, always whining for you to pay attention to him whenever he got the chance, and now was no different. You couldn’t see it, but you knew he had that trademark silly smile on his face regardless of the fact he had a death grip on your body.

“Toru-nii.” Jutting your lip out in a pout, you finally lurched your upper body forward enough to look at him over your shoulder.

“There’s that cutesy little face I missed.” Cooing at you, Satoru loosened his grip enough to let you sit sideways across his lap. Forcing you to wrap an arm around his middle, Satoru kept a tight grip on your back.

“Toru-nii…” Fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, you stole a glance at the eyes staring right through you. “Why do you- why are you helping him so much? You know what he did, I don’t-”

“I helped him do it.”

“What?” Your jaw fell slack and you stared right at him.

“Look, there’s no point in lying to you.” Leaning forward, Satoru grabbed his drink and took a generous swig. “I helped your brother kill your parents and stage it. We even practiced on a few drifters before moving onto the real deal.” Satoru’s smile had fallen, an unfamiliar serious look taking its place.

“You have no idea how long we all planned it, all three of us. Kento took care of your trust fund and the insurance, I subdued your parents and got them in position, and Suguru was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Tears were streaming down your face, smearing the makeup you’d put on, dripping into your open mouth. All other noise in the club fell away, leaving your ears ringing loudly from the silence in your head. Air was barely coming in or out of your lungs, your throat too tight to properly breathe.

“We had it all planned out perfectly, but then you just had to go and mess it up.” Satoru landed a swift slap to your thigh. “You just had to be a bad kitty and run off.” A second slap knocked the air back into you and your body jerked back.

“Toru-nii, why?!” Your scream was loud enough to be heard over the music, and Satoru looked around at the few curious eyes that were now looking at you, his ears flattening against his head as he forced a smile.

“We had to do it (Y/N), so we could all live together as a pack.”

“B-but we already had one.” Sure, you didn’t necessarily need to live in a group but it was nice to be in your adoptive family's pack and be surrounded by their love and care.

“That one...wasn’t the right fit.”

“For who?” Sniffling loudly, you wiped the snot from your nose. “Who wasn’t it right for?” It had been perfectly fine for you. There wasn’t any fighting, no strained dynamics and when your parents were alive, there wasn’t an overbearing older brother trying to completely consume you.

“You’ll do much better in the pack we have now, (Y/N).” Gripping your upper thigh tightly, Satoru leaned forward to press his lips against your ears once more. “Your big brothers will take great care of you.” A sound got caught in your throat, something halfway between a gasp and a scream.

“T-toru-Toru-nii.” A fresh wave of tears pricked your eyes and you blinked hard to keep them at bay. “Can I use the restroom? I just- I really need to use it.” Satoru stilled for a moment, sizing up your words and his options.

“Alright, but be quick.” Slowly releasing the tight hold he had on you, you could finally breathe again. Sliding out of the booth, you bolted to the employee bathroom and collapsed against the far wall.

There wasn’t a way out of the club without Satoru seeing. Even if you ran out the backdoor, he would still see you coming out of the bathroom. The front door was no use, there were too many people you would have to maneuver around.

“And then I said- what the hell, house cat? Are you drugged out?” A few bunny girls walked in, their long floppy ears decorated with silk ribbon. They never really spoke to you, but they weren’t mean to you either.

“My client- he’s just- I-” Stammering, you couldn’t find the words to explain the situation.

“Is he being a fucking freak?” Sauntering up to you, they tugged you up from the floor to lean against the sink counter. Sighing loudly as you nodded, one of them pulled out a small baggie from her bra, a few red pills tucked safely inside. “Here, slip one in his drink and he’ll be out like a light. Then you can have security escort him out.”

“No, he’ll notice.” Satoru would notice without a doubt if you tried to slip something into his drink. He was always watching you, sometimes more than your brother was.

“Alright well I’ll mix a drink and bring it to him, tell him he gets a free drink as a first time customer.”

“You’d do that, really?” You were nearly beside yourself with a sudden rush of hope.

“Yeah, why not? It’s been a while since I’ve had to drug a client. Plus, we can’t have our newest recruit quitting on us already!” Giving you a cheeky wink, the girls sent you on your way, promising to handle it swiftly.

Returning to the table, Satoru pulled you onto his lap once more. You didn’t struggle or make a single peep as his arms wound around you again. His grip was much softer now, not threatening to bruise and crush you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the girls you talked to walk to the bar. They didn’t look at you at all, going straight to the bartender and whispering a few things in their ear. Attempting to make conversation with Satoru, you didn’t have to wait long for them to come to your table.

“Hi sir, we heard it was your first time here!” One of the girls shouted, bouncing on her heels and making her ears flop around.

“Mhmm, so we thought it would be a nice treat to give you a drink on the house!” Another girl came up, setting down a bright pink cocktail. “Go ahead and try it, I bet you’ll like it!”

“Hm, okay.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru grabbed the drink and took a sip, smacking his lips together at the flavor and then taking another. “This isn’t bad, thank you!”

“Of course sir, our pleasure.” Winking at the both of you, they walked away slowly, keeping their eyes on Satoru and fully turning away after seeing him down half the drink.

Satoru always did like a bit of liquor, and it would quickly be his downfall. The drink was a sweet fruity concoction to mask the bitter pill as it dissolved and Satoru’s deadly sweet tooth was hooked immediately.

You didn’t even fully wait for him to pass out before getting out of his lap. His heavy head bobbed side to side, his words slurred not like you’d heard before and his arms had fallen slack off of you. Only his droopy eyes could seem to follow you, silently demanding you to stay in place.

Throwing on your outside clothes in the back room, you kept your hood tightly drawn as you ran from the club. You weren’t worried about pissing your boss off and having to deal with the repercussions, you wouldn’t be returning to that place ever again.

Bursting through your front door, you grabbed whatever clothes you could and shoved them into your bag. The small stack of bills you kept hidden in the bathroom was a welcomed weight to your growing pile, there was enough to at least buy a train ticket and a hot meal a good distance from Tokyo.

Under the cover of the moonless night, you tried to stick to the back alleys on your way to the station that would take you out of town. It paid off to live in such a seedy area, you knew all the ins and outs and where to go to avoid being seen.

Popping your head out from an alleyway, the street before you was deserted. A long string of old warehouses called the street home, their brick and mortar facades well worn from time. Dodging the streetlights as best you could, you could practically taste freedom on the tip of your tongue.

“Oh little sister.” A voice rang out into the dead street, an eerie song sung on the lips of the one man you’d never wanted to see again. Keeping as still as possible, your eyes burned from not blinking, and your lungs from not breathing.

His slow, methodical footsteps scraped across the cement ground, echoing in the silence and heightening your anxiety with every slow drag of his feet. As the sound drew closer, you pressed yourself against the doorway of a warehouse. There wasn’t any way you could outrun your brother, so you had to devise a plan to outsmart him when he got close enough.

“Little sister, I’ve been looking for you.” Suguru came to a halt right in front of you, his towering build casting a shadow over you in the already dark alcove. He was wearing what he had on the last time you saw him, a simple black tracksuit and his favorite slides. His hair had gotten a little longer, resting a few inches past his shoulder blades with the top half in a bun.

Quirking a brow, Suguru hummed low in his chest, reaching an arm out and resting a hand next to your head. His long black claws scraped against the wood of the door, his hand easily large enough to encompass your whole face and then some. The natural musky scent of his body was sickeningly familiar, like you’d only gone just a few hours without smelling it.

“Tell me, did you have fun playing hide and seek with your big brother?” Flashing two rows of gleaming white and perfectly straight canine teeth, Suguru leaned over you, the expanse of his chest blocking out any wiggle room. “I hope you did, because I’m done playing now.”

“Y-you’re not my- my big brother anymore.” Screwing your eyes closed, you twisted your head away from him as much as you could.

“Don’t say such things, (Y/N), you’ll hurt my feelings.” Suguru laughed dryly, clearly unamused.

“Getou li- ahh!” In a flash Suguru had his other hand around your neck, lifting you up to dangle on your tiptoes as he choked you.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, do you fucking understand?” Staring at you with unblinking eyes, Suguru squeezed hard. When your eyes started to roll to the back of your head he let go, stepping back slightly to let you fall to the ground.

Struggling to regain your breath, you tried to crawl away through the small gap left between the wall and him. You barely got one full step before Suguru grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, forcing you to stand and practically dangling you in the air like a doll.

“What’s this?” Seeing the sliver of skin underneath the hoodie, Suguru wrenched it off of you. Your sweats came off shortly after and you were exposed to the elements and his growing glare. “Care to explain why you’re half fucking naked?”

“G-” You started but quickly pressed your lips closed at the sharp look he sent you. “Suguru, just let me go.”

“Answer my fucking question.” His tone left no room for further argument, and you slowly drew your arms over your exposed midriff.

“I started working at a...a hostess bar.” Your words hung in the air, the weight of them heavy and clinging to every part of you. Suguru’s face made no change, the only thing that tipped you off to his anger was the intense flaring of his nostrils.

“My precious little sister has been working at a hostess bar for the past two months? You’ve been dressed like this every night, getting stared at and perved on by god knows what kind of men? You ran away for this?” Suguru’s voice was far too steady for the situation, spiking the already high adrenaline in your blood.

“Suguru please-”

“And it seems you’ve forgotten the number one rule. You know what you’re supposed to call me.” Backing you up onto the door again, Suguru’s fluffy black tail flicked out behind him, it’s long drawn out shadow swaying back and forth.

“You’re not my brother.” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes followed his tail. There was no way you could look him in the eye after saying that. Suguru began to laugh, a cold and hollow sound from the base of his throat that sent a chill down your spine.

“And why exactly is that?” Slamming both hands down on either side of your head, he leaned down to make eye contact with you, his pupils blown wide against his already pitch black irises.

“You know.” Forcing the words out of your mouth, you curled into yourself as much as you could.

“No, I don’t.” Speaking slowly, Suguru waited just a few seconds before slamming his hands down again. “Tell me little kitten, right now!” You let out a piercing scream, covering your face with your hands.

“You killed our parents! You killed them and I heard you fucking do it!” Coming face to face with your adopted brother, the man that killed your parents in cold blood, and having to talk to him about it were all making your head spin.

“No, no I didn’t do that, honey. You’ve got it all wrong.” Suguru’s voice dropped low, instantly adopting a soothing tone. His fingers toyed with the edges of your ears, brushing the soft fur gently. “Mommy and daddy...they had problems. And I know it must be hard to believe, but they did it to themselves.”

“You’re such a liar!” Smacking his hand away from your ears, you glared at him, frustrated tears stewing on your lash line. “I heard you shoot them Suguru! I heard mom-” Your voice cracked, and the tears began to stream down your face. “I heard her tell you not to do it.”

Falling silent, Sugurus face remained neutral. His hand remained in the air from when you smacked it away, and the only indication he was still alive was the subtle flicker of his eyelids and the way his chest barely moved as he breathed.

“I knew I should have drugged you more.” He finally broke the silence, putting his hand back on the door to keep you trapped. Everything Suguru did felt like you were watching it in slow motion. The way he drew in a deep breath, expanded his chest and arms out wide and then drew you into a tight, bone crushing embrace all felt like it happened too slow. Like you should have been able to prevent it.

“Suguru!” You screamed his name from the top of your lungs, throat quickly going raw from the volume of your shouts. “Let me go! Let me go!” Writhing around, you felt the air quickly being squeezed out of you.

“It doesn’t matter now though. It’s all in the past!” Laughing to himself, Suguru took a few steps back, going to the middle of the deserted street and under a light post. “That’s right! The past! No need to worry about it, what’s done is done!”

“Su-Sugu-nii! Sugu-nii please!” You finally broke. You finally called him what he had trained you to call him for all those years. Your precious big brother.

“Oh how I missed hearing you call me that!” Still laughing, Suguru let out a loud hum. “I think I should record you saying that so I can play it over and over whenever I need my fix.”

“Sugu-nii, please!” The tears of frustration were now turning to tears of fear and desperation. The squeezing had stopped, you could just barely suck in air, but your feet still dangled off the ground. “Please let me go- this isn’t okay!”

“What does a dumb little kitten know about what is and isn’t okay?”

“Sugu!”

“You’re just a stupid little baby who got scared without her mommy and daddy and ran away. Well don’t worry, my darling sister, Sugu-nii is here to take care of you.” Nuzzling his nose against your ears affectionately, Suguru sighed contently. “We’ll be a family again, just like before. You’ll be with the pack just like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not- not even a fox, Sugu!” Your chances of leaving his hold anytime soon were quickly diminishing, there wasn’t much you could say - if anything - to convince him to stop. “I don’t need to live in a pack, I don’t- I’m not a canine at all!”

“Hm, like that matters. Foxes act more like cats anyway.” Shrugging his shoulders, Suguru put his hand on the back of your head, raking his nails softly against your scalp. He was holding you now like a baby doll, the arm that had previously been crushing you against him now coming to rest under your bottom and cradle you.

Something caught your eye, making you twist away from Suguru in hopes that it was someone that had heard the screams and was coming to save you. Your heart deflated just as quickly as it swelled when it was Kento who had appeared, a metal briefcase in his hands.

“Look, Kento-nii is here. Go to him.” Putting you on your feet, Suguru nudged you forward. Your knees locked, refusing to move toward the imposing figure.

“It wasn’t nice to drug Gojo like that, little kitten. He’s passed out in the back of the car as we speak, you’ll have to apologize to him when he wakes up.” Kento closed the distance between the two of you, eyes glowering and brows tightly knit together.

“How did you-”

“You think just because you run away we can’t track your scent? How do you think we found you at the club after you so rudely left our conversation? Just a few sniffs and it was like you walked us right there.” Flicking the briefcase open, Kento’s face was obscured as he began to dig around for the contents. “I was waiting by the backdoor of that shitty little club, I had a feeling Gojo wouldn’t be able to convince you to come back and you’d make a run for it again, and you did. It was far too easy to call up Getou and let him know.”

The words Kento was saying were barely sticking inside your head, your complete focus going to the loaded syringe he had pulled out from the briefcase and was now holding in his hands, an almost bored expression on his face.

Taking a step back as he took one forward, you bumped into Suguru’s chest. He made a tsking noise, quickly sliding an arm under your chin and another around your middle to keep you from moving.

“Stop! Stop, Sugu-nii please!” The tears that dripped down your face didn’t matter anymore. Your voice going hoarse from all the screaming didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. At least, nothing you wanted mattered.

“Just try to be calm, little sis. Kento will be quick.” Suguru chuckled darkly, resting his chin atop your head. Any further words you had dissolved into frantic screams as Kento grabbed your arm and wrenched it away from your body.

Pushing the needle into you, he injected you with a serene face. Like he had practiced this before, almost as if he was a doctor giving you a flu shot. Whatever was in the syringe was gone quickly, Kento unloading the whole vial into you before calmly placing it back in the briefcase and shutting it.

“Don’t cry baby.” Suguru cooed, pressing a flurry of kisses on your head as he loosened his hold and began to wipe the tears off your face.

“Sugu- Kento-” You were losing track of the world and fast. Things blurred together, the crisp edges of Kento’s body were melting into the brick walls behind him. Your limbs were giving out on you and Suguru was quick to pick you up and cradle you like he had done before.

“Sshh, just go to sleep.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru whispered softly, giggling at the way you closed your heavy eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “We’ll be home before you know it. One big happy family.”

[weelittleweasley]

crazy (f.w.)

prompt: something has been off between you and fred and trying to get to the bottom of it is madness.

pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor! reader

warnings: mild language, crying, usage of marijuana, underage smoking, being high, dwindling relationships, angst

word count: 6.6k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff​ @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @lol-idk-oops​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @spacexcowgirl​ @paintballkid711​@vogueweasley​ @kaseyrose96-blog​ @hufflepuff5972​ @gryffindcrghost​ @wand3ringr0s3​

The snow melted away revealing the lush, green Scottish landscapes that the Hogwarts castle proudly sat upon. Spring had made its arrival with the eruption of white forget-me-nots and blossoming wildflowers in the courtyard. The sight from outside your window made your heart fill with glee as you smiled brightly, a lighthearted giggle dancing off your lips. You turned to your roommates with bright eyes and a hopeful smile. Alicia sighs mellow dramatically as you run over to her with pleading eyes, “It’s a beautiful day outside. Don’t you want to enjoy the first day of spring?” you dance around her as Angelina enters your dormitory with a big, bright smile. She had the same idea as you, no doubt. 

Alicia looks back and forth between you and Angie before surrendering, “Not too long please. I have an herbology exam and I need to do well on it.”

Without much more hesitation, the three of you are out of the dormitory and scurrying down the stairs. “We’ll be surrounded by the grass and the flowers and the trees; that oughtta help with studying, won’t it, Angie?” you tease as Angelina laughs in agreement, earning a sarcastic eye roll from Alicia. Finally, a warm day outside after the brutal and unforgiving winter. The sun was out, the grass was green, and the air was fresh with renewal. Spring was here.

As you walk through the common room, you stop in your tracks when your eyes land on Fred, your lips involuntarily turning up into a smile when you see him. Angelina and Alicia run ahead of you as you grab Fred’s hands with a smile. “Freddie!” you beam, looking at him with a happy grin, cheeks tingling from smiling hard.

He reciprocates a smile and places a kiss to your forehead. “Excited to see me, darling?” he teases. “Where are you lot off to?” he asks, resting one of his hands on your hips, looking down at you as you excitedly rock back and forth on your heels. Your lips are curled into a smile as you bite onto your bottom lip, lovingly looking at your Fred. “Take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer,” he whispers, teasing you as you roll your eyes with a light swat to his chest, making him chuckle.

“We’re off to go outside. It’s beautiful out and we figured we would enjoy the weather,” you tell him as he tilts your chin up with this forefinger, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. You giggle lightly before biting his thumb gently as he chuckles. “You want to come with us?” you ask hopeful for his response.

Much to your dismay, Fred sighs, “I’m afraid I can’t. I have loads of work to catch up on today. I’m way behind in Potions.” You pout, displeased with the news, but Fred kisses your pouted lips which brings an instant smile to your face. “I’ll catch up with you later though, alright, darling?” You give him a small nod before he pecks your forehead and leaves you, catching up with George who waits for him at the bottom of the steps to the boys’ dormitories. 

You run off, catching up with Alicia and Angie, linking your arms with them as you make your way outdoors. As soon as you step outside, the spring air fills your lungs, smelling of fresh grass and morning dew. A small smile forms on your lips as you happily sigh. Springtime made your heart soar. It reminded you of good things, happy memories. Running in the grass as you played games of tag as a child, going to the park and getting pushed on the swings as you swung higher and higher. Spring reminded you of laying underneath a tree, Fred’s head in your lap as you brushed through his hair, reading a book out loud to him as he happily shut his eyes, listening to the sound of your voice mixing with the springtime breeze. 

Angelina immediately makes a run for a grassy patch covered with beautiful wildflowers, laughing in the process as you and Alicia run after her. All three of you immediately flop down, the grass molding to the shape of your bodies as you lay back, staring at the pale blue sky filled with cotton ball clouds. As if on cue, the three of you sigh out. “This is nice,” you speak as Angie hums in agreement. “Aren’t you glad you came, Alicia?”

Alicia sighs, “Yeah, I guess.” You push her arm teasingly, making her retaliate, “Okay, okay, yes. This is very nice. Thank you.”

The three of you lay in the grass for a long while, making quiet chatter. At one point, you start picking flowers, tying the stems together to create a crown for each of you. You skillfully plaited the stems of the purple, yellow, and white wildflowers before placing the crown on your two friends’ heads. With the other flowers you found, you started plaiting again, this crown for Fred as you smiled to yourself, quietly making your masterpiece. 

“For Fred?” Alicia asks you as you nod your head, not looking away from the plaits. “Jeez, (Y/N), you’re like a lovesick puppy.” 

This earns a slap on the arm from Angelina, a small ouch dropping from Alicia’s mouth. “I think it’s sweet, (Y/N),” Angie beams at you as you roll your eyes, knowing she found it tooth rotting-ly sick like Alicia did. But you didn’t care. It was the small things that you did that made Fred know that you loved him. Small kisses in between classes, closing his textbook for him when he needed a break, offering a hug when he was stressed, sneaking out of class to meet him in the hallway. It were the little things that made Fred fall in love with you and you with him. Although a flower crown may be silly, it was just a token of affection. To show him that you were thinking of him while you were outside.

Recently, you’ve been doing little things more often just because of how busy Fred seemed to be. Your hang outs have been getting cut short and he doesn’t seem to have as much free time anymore. Whether it’s quidditch practice, studying for exams, or running off to pull pranks with George, you always catch him when he’s busy. It was a little frustrating, feeling like your boyfriend had been casting you aside and taking priorities over something else. But rather than telling him how you felt, you convinced yourself that this was just temporary and it would phase itself out. But a month had gone by, and nothing changed. But you still hadn’t brought it up to him. Instead, you continued doing little things.

Alicia groans, peeling herself off of the fresh grass, shielding her eyes from the setting sun. “I should probably head back inside now to study. The exam is this week and I still have a lot of work to do,” she huffs before standing from the grass, brushing off her skirt as you and Angelina follow her lead.

You link arms with Angelina as Alicia leads the way. Angelina looks at you, as you play with Fred’s flower crown in your hands. “You alright?” she asks you as you look at her with a small nod. “You seem gloomy.”

You think for a moment. You could tell Angelina about the situation, but you didn’t want to drag your friends into your relationship problems. She could talk to Fred, but why would she talk to Fred when you could? With a shake of your head, you speak, “I’m alright, Angie. Thank you for checking in though.”

She hugs you to her side, “Of course. You are one of my best mates, I just want to make sure that you’re happy.” You nod your head and walk back into the common room. 

Alicia and Angie start to the girl’s dorms as you part from them, towards the boy’s. “I’m gonna go to Fred’s. I’ll catch up with you lot later,” you smile at them with a wave before heading up the stairs to Fred’s dormitory. Nervously, you play with the flower crown in your hands, twisting it in between your fingers. You were hoping that you and Fred could finally have some alone time, hoping that George and Lee wouldn’t be in the room. It had been a long while since you had alone time with Fred. Even then, the last time was short lived, Fred leaving your room earlier than you had planned thanks to quidditch practice. 

When you reached his dormitory, you lifted your hand up to knock, but stopped when you heard laughter coming from behind the door. There were a few people in the room. You could hear Fred’s voice, but also a handful of others in the room. Your heart sank as you listened to the muffled voices behind the door, having a laugh with each other. Did Fred leave you out intentionally? You were friends with the same people in your year which made no sense as to why he didn’t tell you of this hang out. You got along with everyone just fine. 

You shake it off and knock on the door which causes all the voices to halt suddenly. You are so tempted to press your ear to the door to listen to the low whispering before you hear footsteps approach the door, the lock turn, and the door creak open to reveal Fred at the door. “Hi,” you speak timidly as Fred smiles.

But instead of swinging the door open as expected, Fred slithers out from the door and closes it behind him. “Hi, sweetheart,” he coos to you as you feign a smile. You look behind him at the door, wondering what could be happening behind it. “I didn’t expect you,” he interrupts your thoughts as you look at him.

“Well, you did say we would catch up later...and it’s later,” you chuckle as Fred smiles. “Um,” you stutter before formulating a sentence, “I, uh, are you busy now? I thought that maybe we could go out into the courtyard and grab a blanket and watch the stars? It’s supposed to be clear out tonight. Perfect for stargazing.” You had come up with this idea off the cuff, testing him. If he said no, he could invite you in to where he was clearly hanging out with some people already. If he said yes, it meant he was willing to ditch whatever was going on inside to be with you. 

Fred gives you a sad smile. “That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I’m slammed with work tonight,” he tells you as your heart falls. You wait for him to invite you inside to his room with the obvious group he had. But he mentions none of it. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you. Soon,” he explains, kissing your hairline as you gulp, trying to keep cool. “What’s this?” he refers to the flower crown on your head with a giggle as you lightly force a smile on your lips to cover your disappointment.

“It’s, uh, a flower crown. I made them in the field. I made one for myself and Angie, and Alicia, and I actually m-”

“I hate to cut you off, my love, but I really have to get back to work,” Fred interjects as you stand there, mouth agape and eyes filled with pure confusion. “I’m sorry about tonight, darling, but I have to get going. I’ll see you soon, I promise. Love you,” he kisses your parted lips before slipping back behind the door, leaving you speechless and upset.

The flower crown in your hand suddenly looks very wilted as you sigh at the sight of it. You gulp hard, trying to keep calm and collected, but you can’t help but feel so disappointed. And lied to. Fred obviously had people over in his room and he didn’t tell you about them when you gave him the opportunity to.

Even more upset than before, you walk down the stairs and back to the girl’s dormitory, throwing Fred’s wilted crown in the garbage in the process. With low spirits, you walk back into your dormitory to see Alicia reading a textbook on her bed while Angelina laid on the floor, painting her nails, both shocked to see you back so soon. But before they could ask you why you simply stated, “He was busy.”

You take off your jumper and change into a fresh shirt and comfortable sweatpants as Alicia closes her textbook and sighs. “(Y/N), is something going on between you and Fred?” she asks you as you face away from them, changing. As you fold your clothes, you try your best to not let your sad thoughts get the best of you. “The two of you seem a little off lately. Can we help?” she asks, but that’s when it gets to you. You couldn’t hide the fact that something was happening between you and Fred and not something good. This distance, the feeling like you were oceans away, was starting to show to the outside eye.

Without bothering to cover it up, you let a small sob escape your lips as you turn around to face your friends. Both of them rise to their feet to comfort you as Angelina wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer as Alicia rubs your back. You cry in Angie’s arms, speaking through small sobs, “I just can’t help but feel worried for us.” The two of your friends listen to you intently, not wanting to miss a single beat. “Why do I let myself worry wondering what in the world did I do?” you cry out. You can’t help but feel like you did something wrong that made Fred cast you aside. 

You peel yourself from Angelina’s embrace you as you wipe your eyes with the cuff of your clean shirt. “I’m so sorry you feel like this, (Y/N). You don’t deserve any of it,” Alicia says. “He’s behaving like a child,” she shakes her head as you sniffle, Alicia still rubbing your back.

“It’s not even him behaving like a child. I’ve grown used to that. It’s just...” you sigh out, running your hands over your face. “I came to his room and there were people there...and he was hiding them from me. He came out into the hallway to talk to me and he didn’t invite me in when I knew there were people inside. He’s just become so...sneaky for some reason. And that’s not the Fred I know,” you trail off, thinking about how unlike Fred this was. “I feel crazy for feeling so lonely.”

The thought of Fred becoming someone you didn’t recognize made your stomach feel queasy and your chest feel tight. You fell in love with a wild, goofy, happy person who loved spending time with you. And now...now you barely even saw the boy to know what he was like.

Angelina looks at you with sad eyes, “Hey. You’ve got us.” You give her a sad smile and nod your head. She was completely right; just because your boyfriend didn’t want to hang out with you all the time didn’t mean that you didn’t have other people in your life. “Now let’s dry those eyes and enjoy the night. I’ll finish painting my nails and then we can do yours. After that, I say we sneak into the kitchens and get some snacks and head up to the astronomy tower. It’s supposed to be a clear night and that means it’s a great night for star gazing,” she suggests with a hopeful smile as you sniffle, a small smile emerging on your face.

You look to Alicia, an excited gleam in your eyes, looking for her answer. She sighs in defeat, “Yeah, I’ll join. But if I get a shit mark on this test, it’s you two’s fault,” she points a warning finger at you as you giggle.

“Thank you, the both of you,” you tell your two best friends. This was exactly what you needed. A night with your two best friends enjoying the views of the crystal clear night sky. It was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of your relationship with Fred. 

Soon enough, Angelina had finished painting her nails and Alicia had finished cramming in some last minute studying. “You sure that you’re ready for the exam, Leesh? Because if you’re not, we can do a different night!” you try to sympathize with her.

Alicia shakes her head, “Nah, I should be fine. Besides, I sit next to Longbottom. If worse comes to worse-”

“Alicia!” Angelina laughs as she just shrugs as the two of you leave your dormitory room, headed for the kitchens. “Alright you lot, come on now. And remember to keep,” Angelina speaks in a hush whisper as you tip toe into the kitchen, but halting in your tracks when you realize you’re not alone, “quiet.”

Standing in front of you is a laughing Katie Bell as she stands in between the legs of Fred who is sat on top of the counter, munching on a chocolate biscuit. The two of them are a giggling mess as you spot George and Lee raiding the cupboards for more snacks. But the laughter dwindles down as Fred’s eyes land on you. When his chocolate eyes meet yours, your heart falls onto the ground. He was busy, eh?

Alicia looks at your reaction and what she sees is the look of heartbreak. Anger starts to bubble in Alicia’s chest when she notices how upset you are. Without further hesitation, she claps her hands. “Alright, you lot. The kitchens aren’t just for you. Come on. Give it up,” she walks further into the kitchens, plucking snacks as she sees fit, one of them being the biscuits that Fred had in his hand. She immediately sticks the treat in her mouth before Fred can protest. “Thanks, Weasley,” she says with a mouthful of chocolate biscuit. 

You on the other hand stay put where you are, eyes glued on Fred and his on yours. Your eyes stare into his soul and you can feel how uncomfortable he is with you catching him redhanded. His eyes are like magnets, not letting you pull away from him. It’s like you’re in a trance and he’s trying to send you a mind message. But before he can say anything, you shake your head and break eye contact. Angelina mutters something under her breath as she walks towards Alicia to help her with snacks, but you can make out her saying something along the lines of how pathetic. 

Walking into the kitchens, following Angelina, you grab a bag from Alicia filled with snacks. As you turn around, you bump into George who is a giggling mess. “(Y/N)!” he exclaims as you sigh and give him a curt smile. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” he whines as you look to Angelina for help with wide eyes. “Is Freddie keeping you all to himself again?” he teases you, wiggling his brows.

But as you look at his eyes, you see how bloodshot they look, how droopy and tired his eyes are. He sports a lazy smile and a giggle keeps reverberating in his chest. You furrow your brows, “Are you...are you high, Georgie?” you ask him.

He scoffs, “Me? High? Pffft, no!” You give him a look. “Okay, yes. I am.” You look to Angelina and gulp, wanting to leave now before things got ugly. “Freddie, I miss (Y/N). Where have you been hiding her?” George calls out to her brother who remains seated on the counter, staring at you the whole time.

Fred opens his mouth to say something, but you speak before he can, “You’ve been really busy, huh, Freddie.” He just sits there and stares at you. “Thank you for being honest with me.” Your eyes divert and see Katie who stands in between his legs, hands placed on his knees. The sight makes you feel sick. “Very important business to attend to, you know? Keeping up with Potions homework. Maybe Katie can help.”

Not wanting to wait in the kitchen any longer, you start out with Alicia and Angelina not too far behind. Fred calls out your name, once, and then twice when you don’t respond. When you’re out the door, you call back, “Talk to me when you’re sober.”

You, Alicia, and Angelina walk out of the kitchens and through the castle, the energy between the three of you noticeably shifting as anger, hurt, and sadness bubble in your bones. Angie speaks, “(Y/N), you wanna ta-”

“No. I want to watch the stars with my friends. That’s all.”

Alicia and Angelina share a look as you continue to march your way to the astronomy tower, trying to enjoy what is salvageable of your night.

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

The next morning, the emotions you felt from last night are only amplified. The night under the stars with Angie and Alicia was lovely, but you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to the sight of Katie next to Fred, his eyes glued on you. You felt sick. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions without hearing the full story, but your gut was telling you something wasn’t adding up. The relationship wasn’t what it used to be, but this...this was something you didn’t think would ever happen.

As you sit up in bed, you run your hands over your face in distress, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. Angelina and Alicia are still fast asleep, so there was no use asking them for advice. You were on your own with this one. 

“Get dressed and then you can think of something,” you whisper to yourself. You hoist your legs over the side of your bed and stand up, stretching your arms out with a yawn. “You can deal with Fred later.”

And as if on cue, there was a knock at your door. You look at the clock. It was only nine in the morning on a Saturday, who was up this early on a day off? Slowly, you make your way to the door and speak from behind it. “Who is it?”

“It’s, uh, me. It’s Fred, (Y/N),” the voice speaks as you close your eyes, silently cursing to yourself. Shit. “We need to talk about last night and what happened in the kitchens.”

You remain behind the door, hand on the door knob, but not moving it. You knew you had to talk to him and sort this whole thing out whether you liked the ending or not. 

“Please, (Y/N).”

Taking a deep breath in, you open the door gently to reveal a messy haired Fred in a t-shirt and sweatpants, still groggy from sleep or lack thereof. He gives you a weak smile, “Good morning, darling.”

But his pet names didn’t bring a smile on your face like they normally did. Instead, they made your stomach sour as you just looked to the floor, pulling your jumper closer to your body. “If you want to talk, we can’t do it here. Angelina and Alicia are sleeping and I’m not disturbing them,” you speak plainly, looking up at Fred with cold eyes. 

He bites the inside of his cheek and speaks, “We can go into my room if that’s alright with you. George and Lee went down for breakfast.”

Even though you would have preferred to have this talk in your own room, your own space, it was better to do it in the privacy of Fred’s rather than having to wake up and shoo Angelina and Alicia, or worse, talk as they were asleep. Begrudgingly, you shut the door behind you and follow Fred to his dormitory, a familiar route to you, but one you’d rather not be taking now. 

The walk there is quiet and awkward. It is obvious that Fred is trying to make light of the situation, asking you how last night was with the girls, asking you about the day in the grass and how the weather was. But instead of engaging in conversation, you just give him one word answers or remain silent. 

When you reach his room, he opens the door for you and you step into his dormitory, immediately feeling like an outsider. It was unfamiliar. This room was where you spent most of your time for so long, but since you hadn’t been here in nearly a month you felt out of place. Like you were disturbing it. You were an intruder. 

Fred taps his legs before sitting on the bed, expecting you to follow suit, but you remain standing in the middle of the room, staring at him in your pajamas. “I just want to apologize for last night and you having to see me like...that,” he sighs as you remain unfazed by his words. “I should have told you that the boys and Katie and I were hanging out instead of telling you that I was working. It was wrong and I feel like shit about it...I’m sorry, love. I really feel like a dickhead,” he apologizes to you as you fold your arms across your chest. “The truth would have been so much easier to tell you rather than lie about something as silly as a group hang out. I just didn’t tell you because the boys were complaining that they never see me anymore because of how much time we spend together and I figured that if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t ask.”

You give him a look that just screams, you’re kidding me, right? You were busy hanging out with him? For Merlin’s sake, you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in almost a month and that was his apology? Rather his excuse? “They haven’t seen you? Fred, I haven’t seen you in nearly a month! Every time I try and ask you to hang out with me or even talk to me you have something to do. Quidditch, pulling a prank with George, hanging out with Lee, studying for an exam. Don’t try and make this about me and my demands because it’s not,” you retort to him as he just sits on the bed and stares up at you as you vent. “Not to mention, since when has you dating me ever stood in the way of you hanging out with your friends? If you wanted to hang out with them so badly, then you should have told me and I still would have said yes, Fred! I’m not a monster who wants you all to herself, but Godric, I’m sorry that I’ve miss my boyfriend!”

Fred rubs his face and simply says, “Well, I have been busy over the past couple of weeks, so that’s not rubbish.”

You laugh at his response. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” you exclaim. “Fred, I’ve been driving myself crazy over the past few weeks wondering what I did wrong. Why you pushed me aside, why you’ve tossed me away like I’m a piece of garbage!”

“That’s not true, (Y/N). Come on,” he shakes his head, looking away from you.

Now, you are getting angry. He was going to pretend like him ignoring you and denying you for a month was nothing. That’s not how things worked. “Yes, it is, Fred and you know it!” you cry out, not realizing how loud you’ve gotten. “I don’t know what is happening between us, but whatever it is, I don’t like it,” you confess.

Maybe it was your emotions talking, but you couldn’t help but feel like Fred didn’t mind the distance between you two. Maybe he liked not being as close. Maybe he wanted to have more alone time away from you. But the thought of losing Fred, someone you had loved so dearly, so intimately, made you feel lightheaded. 

Fred stands up from the bed and you think he’s going to walk over to you and give you a hug, which you know you would gladly accept. You need his comfort right now. You need him to scoop you up and tell you that everything is going to be alright and that he’s sorry for making you feel so lonely and sad. But instead of him telling you all the things you want, no need, to hear, he speaks something different. “Maybe we’re just growing apart,” he suggests.

You turn to face him with so much hurt and pain in your eyes it was enough to shatter his heart twice. Your vision becomes blurry with tears as you swallow, pushing the lump in your throat down, blinking your tears away. What was happening? “We’re w-what?” you stutter.

“Growing apart,” he repeats. “(Y/N), we’re going to be graduating soon and we’re going to have to start thinking about what we want out of life. I don’t know if we want the same things,” he tells you as your heart is ripped out of your chest and stomped on at his words. All you can do is laugh in disbelief. “I’m serious. You always told me how after you graduated here you wanted to go back to school and become a Healer and have a family and move away from England...I just...Merlin, I don’t know how to say this...”

“Then don’t,” you cut him off as Fred looks at you, tears streaming down your face now. What he was saying to you know completely contradicted everything he had told you in the past. When you and Fred spoke of the future, he always spoke of you in it. He told you how he wanted to buy a house in the countryside and raise a big family together and take holiday vacations to America and do weekly visits to the Burrow. Fred always told you that no matter what happened, he wanted you in his future. And now, that was revealed to be a lie. “Fred, I don’t care about Healer school or moving away from England. What I want is you,” you tell him as you feel your chest tighten with pain. Now Fred’s eyes start to blur with tears as you look away from him, pulling at the roots of your hair in distress. It was like he changed overnight. “What...what happened, Fred? What happened that all of a sudden you tell me our futures don’t align?”

Fred wipes tears away from his eyes and takes a deep breath in. “It’s, um, it’s a long story, but um...the joke shoppe...it looks like it’s going to happen,” Fred tells you with a lighthearted chuckle. “Harry gave George and I the winnings from the Triwizard tournament to open up the joke shoppe. It’s happening. That’s why I’ve been distant these past few weeks. George and I have been planning like crazy for it. Testing products, crunching numbers, ordering stock, finding a location in London,” he rambles on. “Last night, the lot of us were testing out an...adult product and we didn’t realize the effects it would have...so that’s why we were like that in the kitchens.” 

His words make your heart swell for a moment. Fred’s dream was coming to fruition. His own joke shoppe. A place he could call his own with his best friend and twin brother. He could finally start creating the life he wanted and you couldn’t be happier for him. Except it seemed like that life he wanted didn’t have you in it. And that’s when your heart stopped swelling.

You nod your head, “That’s...brilliant, Fred. I’m so happy for you. Really. About the joke shoppe...that’s great news.” Fred gives you a hopeful smile, thinking that the worst was over. But it hadn’t even begun. “But, I don’t understand why you had to hide it from me. Did you think I was going to be upset with you? You know that I’ve wanted this for you just as badly as you have,” you tell him with the utmost sincerity which Fred knew to be fact. “You just couldn’t have me know about it for what reason exactly?”

Fred scratches the back of his neck before pacing around his room, trying to avoid the question, but you weren’t going anywhere. “I just...ugh,” he groans and throws his head back. “I just didn’t think that you would be interested. Besides, I need to focus on my work. I can’t have any distractions,” he says this last part without looking at you.

Your stomach is doing somersaults and you feel like you’ve just been lied to your entire relationship. Fred thought that you wouldn’t be interested? How was he going to determine what you were and weren’t interested in? “You’re joking,” you speak. “Fred, I will and always will support everything you do. I can’t believe you’d even think that I wouldn’t be interested in something you are so clearly passionate about,” you tell him as he gulps, knowing he was in the wrong for making such a claim. Even after all of these explanations of him ignoring you and diverting his attention elsewhere, there was something that just didn’t add up. “So, you asked Katie Bell to help test out products with you? Instead of me. Or Angie, who is seeing George. Or Alicia, who Lee has been flirting with since the dawn of time.”

Fred becomes visibly uncomfortable at the mention of Katie’s name and that’s when you shake your head, the whole thing becoming very clear to you know. This wasn’t about the shoppe anymore. This was about something else. “It was never like that, (Y/N),” Fred speaks.

“It was never like that or you never intended for it to happen?” you ask him, your voice cracking as you pace back and forth in his bedroom. He was distant with you because he was falling out of love. That was it. “Good Godric, I feel like I’m going crazy,” you let out a shaky laugh, unable to believe what was happening. The story just kept on unfolding.

Fred walks over to you quickly, trying to calm your fears, “Nothing happened between us! I swear on my life!”

You let out a laugh, “Sure! That makes me feel better!” Fred gulps. “But there was something that was there enough to make you push me away,” you speak lowly as Fred searches your teary eyes for something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for; hope? forgiveness? love? friendship? You start pacing the room again, the venomous thoughts coming into your head as they vomit out of your mouth, “You know people told me not to get involved with you because you were a flirt, Fred. But I told them that you were different with me. You saw a future with me, but now I am proven wrong,” you tell him as he shakes his head in disbelief, trying to get you to stop talking, but you don’t. The words just tumble out. “I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted. And then someday, you’d leave me for somebody new,” you spill. “I just didn’t think that this someday would come so soon.”

“I don’t want Katie, (Y/N)! I don’t! Godric! I don’t!” he yells out. “(Y/N), I love you! You know that!” he screams as you just cry harder at his words. Over the past month, you didn’t feel his love. It felt like a chore to get an I love you out of him. “I’ve been distant because I’ve been working hard for my dream! My future! Why can’t you understand that I’m working for something I want!” he yells.

And the truth comes out.

Instinctively, you yell back, “Because how am I supposed to understand something you never told me! You never told me about the joke shoppe and your plans for it! Hell, you never told me Harry gave you the money! How am I supposed to support you when you don’t tell me how I can?!” you yell through tears. “Don’t you hear yourself! Your dream! Your future! You want! What about us?”

The both of you are crying now, you covering your mouth to prevent sobs from escaping, Fred sitting on his bed, hanging his head in his hands, sniffling. This all blew up so quickly and neither of you knew how to recover from this. The damage that the past month had caused was enough to put a gaping hole in your relationship that would be very hard to cover up. That was if you wanted to cover it up.

It’s silent for a while. The air is still and untouched. Fred on the edge of his bed, you sitting on the floor, back resting against the door. You want to get up and leave the room. But you don’t. You sit there. And think. 

And then Fred speaks. “Our futures don’t fit together,” he looks at you, eyes swollen and red matching yours. “We’ve tried to make them fit. But it won’t work.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Freddie...then you haven’t listened to anything I’ve ever told you.” He looks at you, twisting his face with confusion. “All I’ve ever wanted was you. I don’t care what happens after we graduate. Healer school was an idea. But you? You were never an idea. You were something I always wanted,” you confess as Fred gives you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen. “But if I’m not in your future...then...” you trail off, unable to finish the sentence. It was a nightmare. 

It’s silent again. 

But the longer you sit in silence, the more angry you get. Not at Fred. But at yourself. If you had known about what he wanted, what Fred wanted, you could have avoided all of his heartbreak and pain. But instead, Fred fed into your fantasy, this dream, this hazy future of yours and you let him. “I’m crazy,” you laugh as Fred look up at you. “I’m crazy for thinking that my love could hold you.”

Fred shakes his head, “No, (Y/N). You’re not. I love you and I always will.”

“Please don’t tell me that,” you close your eyes and bite down on your bottom lip to prevent the tears from falling again. You couldn’t let yourself hope for a future that didn’t exist with Fred. “This was never going to work. I’m crazy for trying,” you breath out before standing and brushing yourself off, Fred rising with you. “I’m crazy for crying,” you wipe away the remaining tears on your face.

Fred walks over to you as you place your hand on the door. “(Y/N),” he starts, “I never wanted us to end like this. You mean so much to me and I can’t just let you go like this,” he starts crying again, but you have to peel your eyes away. “We want to different things and we both deserve to be happy. Don’t you think?” he asks you. But his question sounded like he needed the reassurance from you. That he needed you to tell him that you agreed. To make it seem like you both wanted this break up.

Looking at Fred once more before you leave, you say, “We do want different things. You want your dream and I want you. But I can’t pretend like I’m happy that we are going our separate ways.” Fred nods his head, wiping his tears away. “I need space. And time. Away from you, Fred.”

And with that, you leave his room and start down the stairs back to your dormitory. You hide your face as best as you can from passing Gryffindor students, trying to be as incognito as possible. As you walk back to your room, you can’t help but think back on all of the happier times that you and Fred shared and think was it a lie? Was it all for show? It would be something that would keep you up at night. 

You were crazy about Fred Weasley, that was for certain. But even crazier for loving someone who didn’t want you as badly as you wanted them.

Walking up the stairs, you look out the window to see the fresh spring countryside. Admits all the chaos, the flowers were still blooming, the grass still growing, and the sun still shining. Spring was still here and new as ever. The snow had melted away to reveal the fruitful, lush land. A new start. Maybe it was time for you to have one too. 

[sweetsubharry]

do you have any fics where harry and louis are best friends and harry is madly in love with him but louis is dating someone else/ doesn't know that harry loves him? im in the mood for some angst and pining lol

I do! ^-^ Also I agree anon sometimes a good old angst and pining is exactly what you need! 💕

Please everyone stay safe and read the tags!! 💕💕

don't call me baby by 28sunflowers

A short and cliché roommates AU inspired by To Be So Lonely, where they’re both oblivious to each other’s feelings and Harry gets sad and jealous over nothing. It works out in the end.

when everybody wants you by nightwideopen

Harry nearly faints on the spot. He got the job. He’s going to be on Saturday Night Live.

Three of Harry's dreams come true, then one of them falls apart.

or

the SNL au that no one asked for

you deserve the world (let me give it to you) by Bumble_Bee_Be

Harry's a little broken. Louis wishes there was a way to fix him. Maybe there is.

Free with You Tonight by sunniskies

Harry's 16 and sophomore, Louis is a senior and his best friend, but somehow Harry's not sure that's enough anymore.

Essentially, high school au fluff involving first kisses and Niall mixing bad drinks.

Dark Paradise by ropeless_anchor

“I heard them loud and clear. God knows I fucking wish I didn’t because that could only mean one thing…” he rubs his eyes to prevent tears from falling down, “…and I am not ready, so don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you fucking die on me, Haz.”

Or, Louis can hear dying people's thoughts. Harry is dying.

let me get your heart racing by orphan_account

Even asleep, Harry finds himself so hooked to this boy. It’s crazy. Months ago, Louis wouldn’t have noticed him. He’s just an ordinary guy, so that’s no surprise. And Louis... Louis is everything.

Harry leaves immediately.

or a highschool au where Harry's sure that Louis will never fall for him, and where he's also wrong.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

baby, hold on to my heart by icaarusfalls

Here was the dilemma: Louis and Harry were out with their mates window shopping because there was nothing else to do and Louis brought an antique ring, hoping to pawn it off to get some quick cash. It was a small, old thing, all rusted and gold, but it had its charm. The owner didn't take it because of the minuscule crack down the middle of the jewel, so Louis just shrugged and handed it to Harry without a thought.

—•—

Louis gives Harry a ring as a joke, but Harry starts wearing the ring everywhere he goes.

You Know Sometimes Words Have Two Meanings by alienharry

... Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're born." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Harry and Louis navigate the universe.

Happy is the Heart that Still Feels Pain by alienharry

Harry doesn't know what to say, how to respond. He's just peed on this boy, who can't be any older than himself, and he didn't even have the sense to apologize. "I," he starts, using his left hand to point at the boy's ankle. "I peed." Instead of getting angry or looking blankly at Harry for being the idiot he is, the boy laughs, and the sound is beautiful. It has Harry smiling, trying his hardest to distract from the awkward situation he created. "You did," the boy agrees, pulling his hand from his boxers, where he must've been tucking himself away. Harry tracks the movement. "You didn't even buy me dinner first."

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

The last thing Harry needed was the hot RA helping him to make bad choices. Actually, that wasn't true. The last thing Harry needed was to fall utterly, painfully, stupidly in love with him.

every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons

Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.

Counting The Steps Between Us by zarah5

AU. So, yeah. That year abroad helped Harry establish that he is in love with his best friend. Now, if Louis would stop treating him like a little brother, that would be awesome. (Additional ingredients: a collapsing tree house, a lot of pining, the other three boys as Louis' new best mates from university, and a camping trip. Serve hot.)

Darling heart I loved you from the start by soulmatesofperth

Harry really likes when Louis calls him pet names, it's just a shame it means more him than it does to Louis. He thinks.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Big Decisions | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies! I know, right, another story in the same week as my other one?? What has the universe come to! I had this idea the other night and I kind of just rolled with the punches. I'm not sure how good it will be, I haven't written in a while and I had an idea of where I wanted this to go and, as usual, it wrote itself and ended up somewhere else. I'm not sure how much I like it but regardless here it is. I tried to make it as fluffy as I could because that's what I need right now lol. Anyway's I hope you like it! Sorry in advance for how long it is!! All my love until next time <3

Description: Y/n is from an influential family like, but not as powerful, as the Mikaelson's and her father is running for the governor of Virginia. In order to increase voting in favour of her father both families decide to merge. In order to do so Y/n agrees to marry one of the Mikaelson boys. The only problem is that she loves all three of them and can't possibly choose between them.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None, seriously, don't be afraid of having all three at once, that doesn't need a warning

Word count: 5032

Tags: Fluff (or at least attempted fluff)

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

Your footsteps echo softly down the hallway of the Mikaelson’s mansion. Your heels click the beat of a song you haven’t yet learned the words to into the hardwood. It’s a miracle you can even hear it over the rumble of the party below. A thousand voices reach your ears in a crescendo of “good evening” and “my don’t you look lovely” but it stands as little more than white noise in your mind. Your heartbeat rages with it all, mingling with the greetings of strangers and the song your feet are creating at the same time.

The only thing you can truly think about is last night in the garden. It had been Kol’s idea, actually, to have one last night together. It was a beautiful notion, too, if not one that left four souls aching as though they were only one soul being forced into four different fragmented pieces.

There you sat, four fragmented pieces of one soul, tangled so elegantly that anyone looking in would have to squint to see the separate beings. Your back moulded so perfectly into Elijah’s front that it was as if you were made to never be apart in the first place. Though Klaus’ head fit so perfectly in your lap that it would be madness to think anything but the same. However, both such things ignore the delicate trace of Kol’s lips against your neck and mouth and fingertips in such a way that the night sky hadn’t shone half as bright as the stars he left you seeing. How could you even begin to make a decision.

None of you feel quite right about the arrangement. Your families have been close for a few years now, you having met the Mikaelsons at a founders party in your first year of college. Both of your households are founding families with a lot of influence in many parts of the south-eastern United States. While the Mikaelson’s are renowned, your own family, the Lancaster’s, are less well known. With your father running for governor of Virginia it was decided, quite suddenly, that your two families are to combine in order to gain the needed momentum to win at the polls. You, the only daughter to Mary-Anne and Johnathan Lancaster, are to marry any Mikaelson son of your choosing.

To any other woman in Virginia that offer would be a dream come true. The Mikaelson’s are akin to royalty in the United States. However, every other woman in Virginia hasn’t spent the last two years completely consumed by all three brothers. There are only a handful of moments that you can recall that don’t include even one Mikaelson. Every night you fall asleep wrapped around one of your boys. Each of their scents are permanently ingrained in your memory. How can you choose when no matter who you pick the other two will still be there.

You pace back and forth at the top of the winding staircase, silently dreading the descent. You gather the pilling fabric of your gown into your hands and let the silk cool your fiery skin for a few moments longer. You try to hold on to a few pieces of comfort with it. The way Kol had smelled of honey this morning and the feel of Elijah’s arms around you and the little marks Klaus left that are still fading beneath your bodice. You breathe in each of them before you take the first step.

You don’t want to go down the stairs but the first step only brings you to the second that much faster. You take them one at a time, letting your feet even out before every push forward. At this moment you wish that the stairs would never end. You would rather wind for years as your dress turned to dust around you than face the unrelenting truth that waits at the bottom. You would rather turn to dust than choose.

You come too quickly to the bend in the stairs that will reveal you to the party. The murmurs that were previously dulled are now at their peak, crashing over you with a harsh fury of cheerful nothings. You wish you could immerse yourself in the chatter like any other party however tonight isn’t just another party. It’s the party and families from across the country have gathered in the halls below to hear you make your decision.

With a quick breath in, you bring yourself into the glittering light cast by the chandelier hanging above the sweeping foyer. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust from the dark hallway. When they focus once more the air is sucked from your lungs in a startled gasp that turns every eye in the vicinity towards you. As if a switch has been flicked, every sound in the room dies out until all that is left is the slightest tinkling of the glass above your head and muffled sounds of awe.

You will give them that, the dress Rebekah Mikaelson had picked out for you is stunning. A rose coloured, silk gown that would make any Victorian princess green with envy. It’s strapless in the sense that it has silk that hangs off your shoulders, leaving your skin exposed and dusted with gold. Your hair has been curled and pinned up, allowing for some tendrils to frame your face. Bekah dusted the same gold she used on your shoulders on your eyes, bringing a finishing touch to your look. She truly does work miracles.

Your hand stalls on the railing for a moment, your eyes searching the sea of faces below you. It’s surreal to have all the attention on you. You’re used to being around important people, you yourself are one to most people, but you’ve never felt like you fit in with them. You’re just an ordinary girl after all. An ordinary girl who just happens to have the hearts of three Mikaelson’s in her palm. Now, if you could only spot them amongst the crowd.

As if they can hear their names flowing through your mind, they appear at the base of the steps. You shouldn’t be surprised at how dashing they all look but you’re still left open-mouthed at the sight of them. They're each clad head to toe in all black, the perfect contrast to your dress. The dark to your light and vice versa. They never disappoint.

Your feet begin moving of their own accord to meet them at the bottom of the staircase, the clicking of your heels ricocheting like bullets through the still silent foyer. You can feel their stares like flames on every inch of your exposed skin. The crowd is holding their breath in anticipation of the interaction to come, waiting ready for the moment you make your decision. It feels positively medieval, as if as soon as you choose you will be forced to rip off your clothes and mate for the court to see and deem your bond official. It’s too bad if that’s what they're expecting. They would be in for quite a shock if they saw the distinct markings of not one but three Mikaelson’s already on your skin.

Three mouthwatering scents swirl around you, encouraging you to move faster. Before you clear the last fifteen or so steps, however, the unthinkable happens. You trip. Your heel catches the loose fabric of your dress and rips your feet out from under you, a riptide of events that should have been foreseen. Your eyes slam shut the minute you go into freefall, not wanting to see the mess your body will create when you hit the marble. The fall feels like hours rather than seconds, waiting for an impact that will shatter life as you know it but the end never comes.

“Baby,” it takes you a moment to register the arms around your waist and the pine tree scent enveloping you, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Another pair of hands grip on to your arm, sending waves of familiar warmth and nutmeg rushing through your chest, “my clumsy darling, what was our dear sister thinking when she put you in those heels.”

“She clearly wasn’t or else she would have remembered that she tripped three times just this morning,” you’re pulled easily into a new pair of strong arms, “isn’t that right, love?”

You can’t help but let the smile fall on your lips, your eyes tugging open to meet the ocean ones already looking at you, “you know me too well, Klaus.”

The smile is already on his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “of course love, that’s my job.”

He leans down to place a quick kiss on your forehead before steadying you. You turn to face the remaining brothers, both of whom look ready to pull you once more into their arms. They’re circled around you, blocking the crowd from seeing you until they have had their moment with you. It warms your heart immensely. Up close they look even more ravishing. When you take your time inspecting them, though, you see the circles under their eyes.

Elijah’s are the most prominent, his skin tinged a plum colour that in no way mars the beauty of his face. If anything it adds an ethereal glow. He’s always been the one to worry the most. He is the oldest after all, most of the stress falls on his shoulders. His deliciously sculpted shoulders. It’s his job to hold his family together, tonight is no exception. You waste no time pulling him towards you and wrapping your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his chocolate hair.

“You look like you need a nap, Eli,” you tug softly at the strands between your fingers, “it’ll all be okay.”

You can feel the deep breath he takes, as if the air is going into your lungs instead of his, “I know, baby.”

He squeezes his arms around you a little tighter than usual before releasing you. It takes Kol no time to scoop you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. You grip his back with shaking fingers, admiring the muscles through his jacket as a moment of peace before the storm to come. You don’t want to let him go. You don’t want to leave the little bubble the four of you have created.

“No matter what happens out there tonight, I'm yours darling. Until the sun doesn’t rise in the east, I’m yours,” he places a soft kiss to your throat and tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.

He pulls back, a small smile on his lips. You look up to the other two one last time, feeling the crowd grow impatient at your hidden actions. You know that tonight isn't about you but you can’t help but let the seconds tick by freely. This could very well be the last moment the four of you share publicly.

Klaus nods his head carefully, squeezing one of his hands into a fist at his side, “until the sun doesn’t set in the west, I am yours, love.”

You pull your lip between your teeth to bite back the trembling, steeling yourself as you turn in finality to Elijah. His chocolate eyes are already on you. The determination in them lights something hot and not at all unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. He takes another deep breath, your eyes drawn to the rise and fall of his chest.

“And every moment after I will be yours, baby, that is my promise.”

When the words leave his lips you revel in the fleeting moment of calm that rushes over you.

The strength in your voice startles you a little bit, “I am yours before, during, and after. That is my promise. Let’s do this.”

The boys stand taller when you say the words, completing a promise you made to each other over a year ago. They part, allowing you to walk into the crowd of statues. No one moves, every eye glued to you once more. You can’t help but feel small under their gaze but you don’t back down, choosing instead to smile and stare back.

“Sweetheart, there you are!”

And just like that all the activity in the room restarts, all the chatter and music and tinkling restored like a fire under the floor. Your mother, Mary-Anne, appears from the crowd in a stunning blue gown. It accentuates her delicate features. She was a southern belle in her youth and it still shows, especially in her accent. You could get lost in the honey that is your mother’s voice.

“Hello, mama,” you fall into her embrace easily, breathing in her lilac lotion, “I’m sorry I took so long, Bekah wanted everything to be perfect.”

Your mother giggles, music to your aching soul, “except the shoes I see.”

You pull away with a blush, meeting her cheerful eyes with mild embarrassment, “oh my, you saw that?”

“Darling, all of Virginia saw it,” she takes your arm, leading you towards the ballroom where guests are steadily flowing to designated tables, “you gave those boys quite a startle. Your father too. He dropped his drink.”

She giggles again as she directs you to a table at the front of the room, elegantly decorated with an array of flowers and candles. There are enough seats to allow for both of your families and a few other important people to enjoy a nice meal. Your stomach tumbles in a way that makes you doubt the amount of food you will be enjoying tonight.

Your mother hands you a glass of champagne which you take gratefully, “will he be here soon?”

“I’m sure he will be,” she smiles gently at you, pushing a fallen curl behind your ear, “how are you feeling, darling? You look a little rattled.”

“It’s a lot to take in, mama. I’m alright,” you take a sip of your champagne to punctuate your words, letting the sweet bubbles cool your throat.

She places her hand on your own, pulling your attention back to her, “you’re allowed to not be. You’re doing a lot for this family, you know. Your father and I appreciate you very much. It can’t be easy.”

“The hard part isn’t getting married,” you meet her kind eyes and almost crumble, “It’s almost too easy to spend a lifetime with any one of them. They each mean the world to me. Mama, how am I supposed to choose?”

She shakes her head gently, her own curls bouncing lightly, “you just have to trust yourself, darling.”

The ballroom fills steadily, flowing conversation and music through the open space. You quickly spot the Mikaelson's, Bekah now in tow, as well as your father, who looks locked in a serious conversation with Elijah and Klaus. He’s nodding along to whatever they’re saying, clearly absorbing whatever notion they’re pushing. Kol, on the other hand however, remains silent, gazing around the space before locking eyes with you. Even from across the floor you can see his shoulders loosen slightly. Bekah tries to say something to him but he just brushes her off before moving towards you. You feel a touch guilty but you'll apologize later. Right now you need him.

You pass your glass back to your mother, accepting another knowing smile before all but running towards Kol. He clears the space quicker than you can, meeting you just in front of the table.

“You know, I don’t recall having told you how breathtaking you look yet this evening,” his words pour over you as he takes the final steps towards you, “and that should be a punishable crime. You look absolutely stunning, darling.”

He laces his arms once more around your waist, drawing you into his chest, “we’re all a little flustered tonight, I think I can pardon you just this once. Besides, I haven’t told you how marvellous you look yet either.”

You whisper the words into his chest, closing your eyes for a brief moment. His touch brings you some clarity. You wish you were curled up watching a movie instead of in a ball gown.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin to meet his warm eyes, “I meant what I said earlier, no matter who you choose I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

“I don’t think I can do it, Kol,” you look towards your father sitting next to your mother, both laughing with another couple, “I can’t hurt any of you.”

“Love,” you're pulled from Kol’s grasp and into a different but no less familiar hold, “we know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what any of us want. You need to trust us. Follow your instincts. Now come on, we’ll miss dinner.”

Klaus leads you to the table and a plate filled with what would normally be your favourite foods. Elijah is already waiting with your chair pulled out, sitting you between your mother and father.

He leans down before you can sit, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks, “just relax, baby. I love you.”

He presses a kiss to your ear before tucking you in and taking his own seat across from you. The ballroom soon fills with the sharp sounds of forks and knives scraping against porcelain and even more happy chatter than before. Your own table becomes a flurry of excited words and talk of the upcoming elections and wedding ideas. You’re bombed with many sneaky attempts to hear your decision early but you brush every one of them off, nervously taking bites of food every few minutes.

“So, honey,” your father turns to you with a grin, lowering his voice and drawing you into your own little bubble, “how’s my star doing?”

You focus on his nose, not wanting to meet his eyes quite yet, “I’m great, dad. This dinner is wonderful.”

He chuckles quietly and you can feel his gaze trying to pull your focus to him, “you would know, right, with all the food you've eaten?’

He isn’t wrong, you’ve barely cleared half your plate, “I’m not hungry is all.”

“You? Not hungry? Now I know something is really wrong here,” his hand grasps yours lightly, “look at me, what’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

You don’t mean to sigh but it happens anyway, “It’s just a lot to digest. It’s a really big decision.”

“You’re right it is, honey,” he squeezes your hand gently, “but I know you’ve got what it takes. You can’t disappoint me. Never have and you never will.” He looks in front of you, “besides, I think those boys know what they're doing. I trust them to help you figure this out.”

Like your mother, he always seems to know what to say. You have a strong family, one that holds each other up in the hardest of choices. You look across the table to meet the eyes of three men already looking at you. They each smile at you in their own way. Elijah’s is with his eyes, the rest of his face remaining stone. Klaus smirks at you, the blue of his eyes sparkling mischievously. Kol tilts his head to the side, a soft grin on his lips.

Soon the music becomes louder and guests start pouring onto the dance floor, swaying to an elegant piece made up of violins and flutes. Your own table clears with the rest, leaving the four of you alone. Elijah, as per usual, is the first one out of his seat.

“Would you do me the immense honour of sharing this dance?”

The formality in his words brings you a bubbling sense of warmth and you, of course, rise to meet his outstretched hand. He leads you to the middle of the floor, twirling you under another chandelier before pulling you tight against his chest. You’re once again wrapped in his forest scent and you lay your head against him, trusting him to keep you from falling. The music swirls around you, drowning out the noise of the others around you. They're no doubt speculating that you’ve made your decision but, in reality, this is just yours and Elijah’s thing: dancing.

He moves you beautifully across the floor, pulling you slightly to where it feels like you’re gliding on ice. The rest of the couples move back, allowing for the two of you to take as much space as you need. You feel like you dance for an eternity, giggling as he spins you endlessly across the polished wood floor. He eventually lifts you, turning you in what you assume is a final twirl, only to pass you into another pair of ocean breeze arms.

Klaus takes over effortlessly, falling into the same pattern that Elijah had created, “sorry to cut in, love, I couldn’t help myself.”

You move the hand that lays on his shoulder and wrap it around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and drawing as close to him as you can. He takes his time dancing with you the same as his brother had. By now all the other dancers have stopped and cleared completely off the floor. Each eye is trained on the pair of you like lasers to a target. You will yourself to remain completely focused on Klaus’ movements.

It takes both an eternity and mere seconds for you to land in Kol’s arms, who twirls you one last time, perfectly stopping with the music. When the last violin dies out, a clock chimes through the room. Your shoulders tense on their own, the rest of your body following suit. Ten O’clock. Choosing time.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome,” your father’s voice pours through speakers placed around the hall but you can barely register the words being said, “I know many of you have travelled great lengths to be here today and for that our families are incredibly grateful. Tonight is a momentous occasion. It marks the engagement of my girl, Y/n, to one of these fine men.”

Your father motions across the room to where you stand, now with all three brothers stood in front of you, “each one of them have expressed their interest in my daughter and now, with all of you to witness such a grand step in her life, she will choose which of them she would like to marry.”

Whatever head that wasn't already turned now faces you, each holding their breath in anticipation. You aren't looking at them though. Instead, you’re facing the three men that you would do anything in the world for. You can almost see your aching heart already in your hands, ready to rip it into three even pieces and hand it to them with little bows.

You look at Klaus first. Your creative spirit who could fill an entire museum with paintings of your face alone. His hands twitch slightly at his sides and he closes them into fists when you notice. He offers you a small smile and you remember the other night when he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie in the den. He hasn't been sleeping properly with all the arrangements for tonight being settled and you running your hands through his hair had been the final push he needed to collapse. You make sure he’s looking at your lips when you mouth I love you across the room.

You turn quickly to Elijah from there, locking eyes with him immediately. Your warrior who looks especially undone in comparison to his usual put together self. He looks like he has to stop himself from closing the distance between the two of you and that it’s taking most of his remaining energy to do so. That’s Eli for you though, he never can stay away from you for too long. When you mouth I love you to him he stands a little straighter.

You find Kol’s eyes easily from there. Your rebellious, hell-raiser with a glint in his face that you would be able to see from all the way across the room. His hand is in his hair, tugging the strands between his fingers in a way that only he could make look elegant. He’s got a look in his eyes that begs you to do something entirely untraditional. He mouths I love you before you can even open your mouth.

You stand there for an eternity, your feet stuck as though rooted through the floor. Every moment from the past two years rushes through your head. You aren't dying; this isn't a life flashing before your eyes type moment but it may as well be. These three have been your entire life since you were introduced. Not one of them alone could have brought you here. Every moment for two years has been leading to you standing here, with them, at this very second.

It hits you quite suddenly that if you were to remove two of them, the equation that makes up who you are wouldn't be correct anymore. You’ve been juggling with the idea that your soul is four parts rather than two for quite some time now. It wouldn't be right to give three parts to one person, not when each of them have taken the time to so delicately etch their names onto their own separate parts.

You can’t pick just one of them. You’ve known that from the beginning, you just didn’t know what you were going to do about it until now. Your hands tremble now that you know your decision, a chill running up your spine at the thought of sharing it with the crowd. It’s not exactly conventional what you’re about to say.

“I choose Klaus.”

The crowd releases the breath it had been holding for hours. Too bad they're going to be sucking it back in soon. Klaus’ eyes are wide, his mouth open as though he didn't expect to be your choice. Your heart breaks for him and you remind yourself to spend more time with him when this is all over. Your other two boys look devastated, the smiles on their lips looking more like pained grimaces. Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“And I choose Elijah.”

Just like that there is once again no air left in the room. You begin walking towards them, ignoring the buzz of whispers growing in the room. You peer over their shoulders at you parents who don’t look nearly as stunned as they should. In fact your mother is beaming at you. You can feel the pride radiating off her from thirty feet away. You can’t tell if your father mouths I told you so or if you imagine it.

The boys begin moving towards you as well, ready to cover you from the storm raging around you. You can tell there are a thousand things they want to say but you’re not done speaking yet.

You look to the last Mikaelson, willing a smile to take over the frown on his gorgeous face, “and, of course, I choose Kol.”

The crowd roars around you but you’re surrounded with a wall of Mikaelson, blocking you from the prying eyes. You look at each of them, trying to gauge their reactions. You know they said that they're yours but you never discussed marrying all of them. You don’t even know if you can do that. It’s now entirely overwhelming in a completely new way. All three of them stare at you with a mix of shock and awe. Like this is the first time they’re seeing you. You wring your hands together waiting for one of them to say something.

None of them do, though. Instead Elijah closes the space between your bodies and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down hard. His hands grasp your waist with strong fingers, leveling you against his tall frame. It sends shocks through your entire system and you revel in the outright display he’s putting on. He’s the last one you would have expected to lose it in a crowd.

Kol is the next one to close in on you, wrapping his arms around you as well and gently kissing your shoulder. The fire Elijah started in your stomach only increases when Kol bites down. You gasp into Elijah’s mouth but it’s quickly swallowed by the man himself. Kol’s lips feel heavenly against your exposed skin.

Klaus finally steps towards you, tangling his arms in the mess of your bodies and completing your circle. His lips meet the side of your throat in a way only he can, biting down deliciously. When Elijah finally pulls away from you, the rest of them follow. You know your skin is most definitely bruised and your lips swollen. Your curls have most definitely fallen from their pins. You would be worried but each of them still hold you, caged around your body for no one but themselves to see.

The rush of the evening hits you all at once, a strong fatigue laying across your bones. You let your eyes close as you lean further into Elijah. Sensing the finality of your movements, he scoops you up, careful to keep your dress in it’s beautiful condition. He starts walking out of the room, ignoring the protests around him. On cue Kol and Klaus join him on either side.

“Eli, we can’t leave, they’re expecting us,” you can’t hide the yawn in your voice.

“We can, and we are leaving, baby,” he tightens his arms around you, “you need to sleep.”

You shake your head unconvincingly, “I’m fine, Eli.”

The other Mikaelson brothers just laugh.

The smile in Kol’s voice is audible, “yes you are, darling, but humor us won’t you?”

“They’ll be mad at me,” your voice trails off at the end, blackness creeping in around the edges of your mind despite your protests.

“You’ve done more than enough, love, we can take it from here.”

Klaus’ voice is the last you hear, not even making it back up the stairs before you drift out of consciousness.

[shnuggletea]

A belated birthday surprise for @eringobroke!

Better late than never?? So, she’s actually read this already lol. I commissioned art from her for it! But the surprise is the posting as I hadn’t told her when I would post this lol. I took a short break from working on kisses to get this ready for the public. I know everyone is hurting for some fluff (and this is not fluffy) but I promise you’ll get a ton of fluff on Sunday! It has a lot of smut in it. If you want the full version, you’ll have to subscribe. It all still works without the smut (I think). So you don’t have to subscribe (but I’d love you a little more if you did!). You can read chapter one below or head over to Patreon for the free version. 

Happy Birthday @eringobroke!!! And thank you so much for the brilliant art! Working with her was a dream guys something to consider when thinking of your next project to commission! Idk if this is a gift, commission, or both but I hope it’s a good surprise. Either way, I’m so glad to have you and your work in my life!

Check out the art eringobroke made titled Hunting a Dryad!

For AO3 (since this is a gift) click here. For Patreon click here. Or keep reading below.

TAGS!!

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Chapter One

It would be the first time in years I had stepped into a forest like this. Fear had kept me away. With it being so long and things so changed, I felt safe. Not to mention it wasn’t the same woods that I originally feared. 

“Come on Kikyo!”

I was spacing out, looking out at the horizon as we rose above it. Ayumi ahead of me, I turned back to her and the path with a smile. “Where did you guys find this hike?”

“Google,” Hojo stated simply. 

The boots felt strange but I was getting used to them. As well as being deep in the forest with my friends. “It’s beautiful.”

Ayumi giggled, “you fought us so hard on coming here, I thought for sure you’d be bitching the whole time!”

Yes, I had fought the idea, cursing the fact that my friends were adventurous for the first time since I met them. We had done a lot of things together. They had really brought me out of my shell. Skydiving was still my favorite. 

So I knew it looked weird when I turned down a simple hike. The path wasn’t on any map and according to Hojo, it was magical. I had to agree but I was biased. Regardless of my previous trepidation, I loved the wild and untamed forest the most. 

Now that we were deep within, I felt all my worries and anxiety were for nothing. I felt nothing, not even a tingle. There was nothing here in these woods that was a threat to me or my friends. 

We made it to the top of the mountain, panting and glistening with sweat. Eri was passing out water from her pack while I dug out some dried seaweed. Sitting on rocks, the fog cleared and we could see all the way across the valley of thick trees and brush to the town in the far distance. The air was cleaner, crisper than I had breathed in a long time. It reminded me of days long past. 

Watching the sun start to drop and the sky turn to gold, we all silently agreed it was time to go. We made it back to the car by sunset. My hand was on the door when it hit me. If I hadn’t had a hold on something, I would have fallen to my knees. It had been so long, I forgot how overwhelming and powerful the sensation was. 

“I… I need to go.”

Eri looked at me with a slight lift on her lips. “Then go in the bush. We’re too far out for a bathroom.”

I was shaking but none noticed thankfully. “No, I need to get out of here. Away from all of you.”

All smiles dropped, Hojo grabbing my shoulder gently. “Kikyo? What’s wrong?”

The feeling left, coming and going quickly. I took a deep breath to steady myself before fixing the damage I had made in my haste. “Nothing. Sorry, I’m just… tired.”

They each looked to one another and I wondered if they would believe it. Hojo was the first to turn back to me with a smile. “Let’s get you home then?”

Holding onto me a little longer than necessary, Hojo showed me affection the only way he dared. I worried he would confess to me soon. Then I would have to leave the group earlier than planned. I would have to leave someday, ghost them completely as I had done many others in the past. I would miss them just as I did all my other friends now long gone. But that was the nature of my secret and how I kept it all these years. 

This time when I felt it, I didn’t let fear overrule me. Keeping calm in the back of the SUV we all crowded into, I quickly got out when it stopped at my place and said my goodbyes. It would most likely be the last time I saw any of them. 

As I neared my door, my hands began to shake. It was coming from inside my apartment. There was no point in running, I had been found. All this time I had managed to stay hidden, I assumed no one was looking for me. That may still be true but it didn’t change the fact that I had inadvertently stepped into trouble and it had followed my scent to my home. 

That was why the feeling went away in the woods. I hadn’t been left and forgotten. No, my scent was all that was needed to find my home and wait. 

Even though I expected it, my heart still jumped into my throat as I opened my door to the creature that sat in my living room. I closed my door, using my body as I fell back on it with dread. 

Standing on four paws, the large dog snarled at me. He stood as tall as a Great Dane but was the shape and coloring of a wolf. But it wasn’t a wolf, it was a dog. 

“Hello, Inuyasha.”

The snarl stopped but I knew he was still frowning. I didn’t dare move or look away, watching as he shifted. His bones and muscles twisted while his shaggy white hair retreated, all of it save for the hair on his head which grew in length until down his back. The white fur changed to peachy skin and the muscles bubbled and popped out all over his toned body. Now standing on two thick, human legs, the only thing that remained the same was his glowing, demonic, gold eyes and fuzzy white ears on top of his head. 

No matter what form he was in, Inuyasha was beautiful. Stunningly, which was why I still couldn’t move even as he stalked towards me. In a flash, he had my wrists in his hard grip and slammed them back into the door above my head. 

“Hello, Mate. Long time no see?”

I shudder, his naked body close to me, and the heat of his skin wafting over mine was close to driving me mad. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head slowly and clicked his tongue. “You messed up. Stepped too close to me and I felt it. It was nothing to figure out your path and find your scent, leading me here.”

Leaning in, he put his face so close, I could feel the tip of his nose as it brushed my skin and the air as he dragged it in, smelling me. He went from my shoulder, up my neck, to my hair. But then he went back to my ear. 

“I thought you were dead,” I whimpered at his harsh whisper, his emotions felt even as he spoke so soft only I would hear. He was trembling against me now. “For years. But my mark didn’t fade. So I thought… I had screwed up somehow. Then I realized… you left me.”

“I… I’m sorry. I had to.”

“Is that your sapling out on the balcony?”

He had come in through the window, passing my tree in the small planter. I gave him a nod as my heart tripped in my chest. 

“It’s grown. You’ve been taking care of it. As you should I suppose. So you dug it up and ran? Why?”

I couldn’t tell him. Not now, not ever. I didn’t know what damage it would do. “I…”

He was waiting for an answer but I had nothing. Silence fell over us but it didn’t last. Inuyasha pulled out of my neck and glared down at me, his eyes no longer gold. Now they were red. 

“You left me. Cared so little about our bond and our mating that you didn’t even say goodbye…”

“I couldn’t…”

“For decades now I’ve had your mark, laughing at me for ever thinking you gave a shit about me…”

“Inuyasha, please…”

His mouth crashed to mine painfully and my body responded instantly. Roughly, he put my arms around his neck and grabbed the back of my thighs hard. I had no choice but to wrap my legs around him and he continued to press me against the door. He threw me to the floor and continued.

“As good as you remember, Kikyo?”

I felt sick, my belly turning when he called me by that name. “Don’t… don’t call me that…”

“Oh? So only your human friends can call you that? If it bothers you so much, then use your real name.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t…”

His face inches from mine, I watched the colors swirl in his eyes. Red and gold mixing around his irises. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have left me for the damn human world?!”

“I didn’t…”

He left me on the floor before him while he sat on his heels. I waited, waited for him to say something. To hold me. To be just like the man I remembered. But instead, he got to his feet and walked around me. 

“Inuyasha…”

He stopped but didn’t turn, facing the window he had undoubtedly entered from. “You’re my mate so I’m bound to you as you are me. But there is no longer love between us; not since you broke my heart and left me for dead.”

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Doesn’t fucking matter now. Because now that I’ve found you, you will do what I want. I’ll come and go as I please and screw you when and how I want. You’re no longer my Mate. You’re my whore.”

I was shaking and so was he. The cold tone of his voice left me freezing on the floor. The floor he had just had his way with and left me on. As soon as I saw him, smelled him, I wanted him, wanted it, wanted him to make love to me like we once did. That wasn’t what he did and it wasn’t what he was going to do to me in the future. 

Standing on the edge of his escape, he finally looked back at me before he disappeared. “See you soon, Kagome.”

With my name (my real name) on his lips, I rolled to my side and curled into myself. My clothes were nothing but rags under me while my boots knocked the floor. Not as hard or as loud as they had while Inuyasha fucked me but they were still there. 

With one hand, I grabbed my wrist, the one that had his mark. Slowly tracing the faint purple moon on my wrist I allowed myself to cry. It had been a long time since I was reminded of what I had given up and it didn’t lessen the ache in the slightest. 

I knew she was near, I could smell her. A week of chasing her and I refused to give up. 

I caught sight of her a short distance away. Her golden flank flashed in the peaks of sunlight through the heavily shaded woods. She was grazing, her mouth low to the grass as she nibbled. 

She was waiting. 

I slowed my approach, careful with my paws so I didn’t alert her. She might be waiting but with her running from me at every turn since we met, I knew better than to let her on to my presence. She still felt it; felt me before I was close enough to strike. 

Her muzzle lifted and her azure eyes found my golden ones. A flash of white and she was off, her tail high as she ran. And I chased. Today would be the day. I could feel it, a tingling in my spine and loins stemming from the hurried breaths she took. 

She was excited. 

I could hear it in her breaths and smell it in the air; her white tail turned upwards and showing me her hindquarters while scenting the wind with her sweet, succulent musk. 

But then I lost sight of her, turning hard and fast down a long lane of bamboo. It ran thick around the water’s edge, a river that parted the forest and many animals drank from, and hid her from me. When I rounded the tall grass and entered the narrow path of its forest, I stopped short. 

There she was, knee-deep, quickly cupping water and splashing it over her body as if it would cool down her heat. No longer the gentle and beautiful doe I’d chased for days on end, she stopped and stood at her full height as the gorgeous woman I met over a week ago. 

Her long black hair curled with dripping water; water that ran down her breasts to her flat belly. Dark curls met it before sliding over her round hips and slender thighs, sad when the water had to return to the river. 

She didn’t face me, half-turned and giving me her side. I took in the sight of her as much as I could, feeling her eyes on me the entire time. The sand was soft under my paws; soon under my feet as I stood up before her. Her lids closed and opened slowly, black lace brushing her rosy cheeks as she lowered her sights over me. 

I was already up to my knees, grabbing her thin arms and enjoying the feel of her soft skin on the pads of my fingers. Her hands went to my chest when I pulled her to me, her chin shooting up to keep her eyes on mine. Twisting us, I had her on the sand, watching as she waited, laying on her back for me. Her eyes were everywhere, searching for any other eyes on us. 

What we were doing was probably breaking the rules. Considered a sin, with me a Hanyou and her a forest nymph, a Dryad. If that’s the case, then they would have to take it up with the fates as they were the ones responsible. This union was beyond mine or her control. 

Crawling over her, I grabbed her face and stilled her search and worry. If anyone were near, I would have smelled them. 

Now, with her eyes wide on me and only me, I lowered my mouth to hers. Sucking in her air (tasting her fully) it was like nothing else in this world. It ran sweet down my tongue and burned in my belly like ale. 

“Inuyasha…” She whispered when I pulled away.

The tears in her eyes made them sparkle like sapphires. In the short time, we spent together before this moment, I had not told her my name. And she didn’t tell me hers. But I knew it; just as she knew mine, pulling her to me and cradling her in my arms. 

Mates always know their names and she was finally ready to be mine. 

“Kagome…”

Panting, I pulled back from her hold, her eyes glassy and to the sky. Taking her hand, I sunk my fangs into her wrist. She flinched as if waking from a dream, looking at me as I marked her. Kagome didn’t hesitate, taking my arm and biting until she drew blood. Her blood slid down my throat as mine did hers, sucking slightly as we left our marks. 

Retracting my fangs, I watched. Sure enough, the swollen and bloodied mark turned, changing into a waning moon of a light purple that stood out greatly on Kagome’s skin. 

She was watching my skin, her eyes wide and curious. Such a beautiful creature, I struggled to understand how she was mine. But as her bite turned into an arrow the same golden color of her doe form, there was no confusion. 

The gods had accepted our mating.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Sign of Support.”

A lot of you have wanted some sort of update on the LFIL arc. So this one counts sort of as fluff, and sort of as a starting point for finally getting back to this arc. 

Prepare yourself for Adam being awkward lol :) 

It was happening again.

He had expected this sooner rather than later, and it hurt to watch.

He knew, more than anyone that it wasn’t going to work. The GA was full of aliens, not humans. The things that impressed humanity, the things that got humanity’s attention were the same sort of things that tended to scare the GA.

But of course, the average human couldn’t have known that, and with their tendency to change creatures around them to become more human, the aliens with which they worked didn’t see it either.

They were doing the right thing, but going about it the wrong way. 

Still, that didn’t stop his feelings of sadness and empathy for their plight. 

Walking with Sunny, standing on the buddy pegs attached to her back, and examining the protest encampment around him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by their bravery. He knew for a fact that if he was in their shoes, he would be way more likely to hide, lie to everyone around him, and even himself. 

But here they were out in the open, a shining beacon of defiance against the GA.

It was a difficult situation, of course he supported the GA wholeheartedly, and he always would, and with that support came an understanding. But that didn’t mean that he had to agree with them.

They were scared.

And people tend to lash out at things that scare them.

As it turns out, that seemed to be a common factor across the galaxy.

He reached down, hand caressing the tear gas canisters at his belt and the accompanying gas mask. He prayed, just PRAYED that he wouldn’t have to use them, but how was he to know what would happen. When people got righteously angry about something they tended to act up, and when thrown into a group of like-minded people, the pack mentality was overwhelming.

He wanted everything to go well, he wanted them to make their point, to prove that they were the moral superiors, demonstrate to the GA that they weren’t militant, and all they wanted was peace.

That was the sort of thing that would get across to the GA.

But with humans involved…. He didn’t really have much hope.

He glanced around at the assembled tents looking for any sign of trouble.

He didn’t see much, just the limp white flags, with the LFIL logo printed proudly on their front.

Still keeping an eye on his surroundings he leaned against one of Sunny’s shoulders, “So what do you think about this whole thing?”

Sunny turned her head to look at him gold eyes and blue carapace glittering with the yellow sheen of the Rundi sky.

She shrugged, setting him a little off balance. She grabbed his feet to steady him as she continued up a small incline. 

“It doesn't bother me, and I suppose I understand them.”

“Oh?”

“Imagine finding someone you connect with, someone who understands you more than anyone ever has. Imagine a Drev finding the greatest warrior in the galaxy, and then….. Just having to suffer knowing you can never be with them. Granted none of the other species ever would have considered it an option without the humans, but now…. It makes sense. You connect with someone well enough, then beyond that there isn’t much you can do.” 

“I agree with you completely, but let me play devil's advocate for a moment. They aren't even the same species, without the same genetics. It wouldn’t be physically possible to produce a viable offspring.”

She turned her head to look at him, “And how does it work for your brother David and Jordan?”

He laughed, “Ok, ok, poor question.”

“Adoption, a relevant option. Plus, this is coming from the guy who lent his DNA to some alien.”

“Arguably she stole it, but I get your point.”

They turned another corner scanning the crowd, “Hear me out though. Humans are…. Well you know how humans are. They need…. Affection and intimacy….. How does that even…. Work?”

“Oh I am sure some human has found a way, besides, humans and Drev aren’t so different in that regard.”

He tilted his head to look at her, “How the hell do you know that.”

“Got into a discussion with Krill. He thinks it's possible, though he would never tell you humans. He already thinks you do a ton of stupid stuff anyway.”

“Don’t you guys also have a mating season.’

“We did, but it was actually based on the magnetic fluctuation of our planet in time with the seasons. Now that we don’t have that anymore, things are out of whack.”

He grunted, “huh, I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.” 

“Because that is a totally normal thing to ask someone. Hello my name is Adam, and I am actually very curious about how….. That stuff… works on your planet.”

“That stuff, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, “I was sheltered ok, give me a break.” They came to a stop at a crossroads, and Adam stepped down from her back and onto the dirt tilting his head to listen trying to detect any signs of a disturbance as of yet there was nothing. He turned to the left down another line of tents passing into a more populated area of the protest encampment.

People wearing specially made clothing, with the LFIL logo, shirts, scarves, bandannas, jackets, hats etc. etc. walked about openly with their alien companions, a few even brave enough to show overt affection towards each other.

A human hugging a Tesraki, while another stood on a box to kiss the cheek of their drev partner.

“Now that, is something I couldn’t do.” he said to sunny, walking past.

“Kiss someone/”

“No, Kiss someone two to three feet taller than me. Way too much work.”

“How do you know, maybe climbing up three feet would be worth it.”

Eyes followed them nervously as they walked past, their riot gear marking them as ‘the enemy’. 

“I would rather not be in danger of twisting my ankle every time I wanted to show someone affection, thanks.”

“You twist your ankle anyway.”

“That’s my point. If I twist my ankle now, Imagine what would happen if I had to do acrobatics on a regular basis.” They came to a halt as a group of protesters paraded in front of them holding up picket signs.

 One of the protesters turned to glare at him, “We aren't doing anything illegal.”

Adam held up his hands, “I know. I’m just security to make sure no one gets hurt.’

The other human didn’t seem convinced angrily grabbing their alien companion around the waist before marching off.

The Tesraki looked uncomfortable looking back at them apologetically.

Though tesraki were generally cutthroat businessmen, they tended towards extreme submissiveness in relationships with humans.

Adam stepped through the gap left by the protesters and continued walking.

As they did they early ran into a group of kids selling little white flags and bandannas. They pulled to a halt, eyes widening in surprise and shock. A young Tesraki pulled to a halt with them looking as if he was about to panic and run off.

However, the kid at the front’s eyes widened and a big smile crossed his face,, ‘holy shit! You, I know you!”

Adam smiled, “You do now?”

“Yeah , yeah you’re in that movie. You, you command the UNSC fleet.”

For some reason, that exclamation calmed the other kids, and they squealed, shouting and asking for a picture. Of course he was happy to oblige, posing with them for their pictures. Sunny stood to the side happy to watch though she was dragged in for the next set of pictures once they realized who she was. 

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked glancing down at his clothing. Smile falling, “You…. aren't here to stop us are you?”

Adam shook his head, “No, of course not, protesting isn’t illegal.” He motioned to Sunny with his other hand, “Sunny and I are just here to make sure that you guys stay safe, and that no one gets hurt.’

Sunny nodded.

One of the more skeptical looking teens looked up at him, “How do we know you aren't here to stop us. You work for the GA after all.”

Adam shrugged, “I don’t have much else to prove other than my word.”

The skeptic looked at them, a wicked smile appearing on her face, “I know.” She reached into her cart and pulled out one of the bandannas, “Wear this.”

 It was clear she expected him to balk at the idea, but to her surprise, he smiled, “Alright, sounds reasonable.” he held out his arm, and watched, still smiling as she tied it around his upper arm still glowering at him skeptically, “Think you can spare one for my friend.” He patted Sunny on the arm.

That broke her skepticism, and she smiled openly handing a second one over to him, which he tied around one of Sunny’s upper arms. He waved a goodby to them, and stepped back up onto Sunny’s back walking away with her.

“That was nice of you.”

He shrugged, ‘Not really. I honestly agree with them. The GA has no right to tell them who they can and cannot be with. I know they have some reasons, but I feel like there is a better way of dealing with it.”

Sunny hummed deep in her throat, “Uh-huh, or you really just want a really tall girlfriend.”

He sighed, “Honestly I’d settle for any size girlfriend if I could just talk to her like a normal person without sticking my foot in my mouth.”

“Your incompetence with women is acrobatic.” 

He snorted, “I’m glad you’re impressed.

Together, they continued their slow circle around the encampment drawing suspicious and confused eyes as they went. Sometimes they were recognized, and, occasionally people would ask to take pictures with them, other times, they just wanted to talk.

 The variety of people was… astounding.

A barely five foot human with a nine foot Drev. A group of humans and a group of Tesraki.

A lawyer and a Finnari.

Two couples both as business partners with a Tesraki half.

They were young and old male-female, in all different pairings. Old soldiers, and young students. It was honestly quite stunning.

At one point they stopped off for water and ran into a Massive bodybuilder with his drev, whose carapace at any other time would have marked her as ugly for a Drev. At first Sunny felt bad for her, with her muddy brown carapace, mat without any shine. 

The man turned and handed Adam some water.

Adam raised the bottle, “Thanks.”

The man looked him over eyeing the bandanna around his arm, “Interesting accessories for a GA affiliate.”

“You can work for someone and disagree with them.”

The man laughed, “I suppose that’s true.”

 He greeted Sunny as well who was trying not to stare at the other female Drev for too long lest it seem like she was staring..

He motioned to the arm band, “Supporter, or-” his eyes flicked between Adam and Sunny.

“We’re just here to make sure everyone stays safe.”

Off to the side the mat Drev looked at Sunny, “I’m sorry.”

Sunny glanced over at her nervously, “Sorry for what?”

“You must have been treated poorly on Anum.” 

Sunny shuffled her feet awkwardly, “I was alright.”

“Regardless. I hope things work out for you. The Drev beauty standards are unfair, and things need to change.”

Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to feel about that.

“They aren't so bad.” she ventured defensively.”

“Then I am sure you are getting combat offers left and right with your coloring.”

Sunny went quiet again . She would have said this was passive aggressive, but the Drev didn’t do passive aggressive, so was this just an open statement about how ugly she was? If that was the case, it kind of hurt.

“I have, because I am an experienced warrior.” Her voice was cold.

“Oh, where is your partner?”

Sunny felt her fists clench, but Adam placed a hand on her arm. She was quiet, “I turned them down.”

That seemed to surprise the female Drev.

The two humans exchanged a look, the way that only humans can, speaking without actually saying anything.

Adam took Sunny by the arm and raised his water at the man, “Good luck to you.”  before turning to walk away.

“I hope you find a battle partner.” the other Drev cut in at the last second.

Adam Squeezed Sunny’s arm tighter, but she turned her head anyway snapping, “I already have.” Before marching off without another word. Adam was forced to scamper after her, his legs much shorter.

“Wow, wow, hold your horses.” 

She finally slowed to a stop still fuming.

“Who the hell does she think she is!”

“Sunny-.”

“Calling me ugly to my face!”

“Sunny-”

“I should have challenged her to a duel right then and there.”

“Sunny!” 

She turned to look at him, “What?”

He climbed back up on her back patting her shoulder, “She was just insecure and jealous.I mean come on, look at you, Blue is the rarest color in the galaxy, and we all know that height is the least important attribute of Drev beauty standards. The better you can fight, the more you make up for it, besides it's not her fault that she can’t accept someone as being valid unless they are in a pair.” 

Sunny grunted.

He frowned, “Speaking of which, coming from her it seems like a double standard. You fight with me, and I’m fucking awesome, so by default you have to be too.”

“Wow Adam, you really know how to make a person feel better.”

“I know.”

They were crossing back to the other side of the encampment, when they ran into some familiar faces.

Ramirez and Maverick appeared from the crowd, waving the two of them down with greeting hands. 

They pulled to a stop, and the Commander motioned to the white bandanna on Ramirez’s arm, “Nice accessories.”

“I like yours too.”

“I didn’t know you were a supporter.”

Ramirez laughed, “Man I am a supporter of whatever the hell people want to do with themselves.”

Off to his side maverick had tied one of the white bandannas to her belt.

“And you.”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit. I don’t even think it should be an issue, but by banning it, the GA created a problem for themselves and took away the freedom of choice for these people. Even if I did disagree with what they are doing, I would still support their ability to make that choice for themselves.” She tugged on the bandanna, “But hey, would I be wearing this otherwise.”

The commander nodded his head surprised and pleased at his men for being so open minded, though he supposed it should make sense. They worked with aliens every day. Where others might have fostered a sense of fear based on unfamiliarity, they had experience.

“Lets just hope this all goes over well tomorrow. I don’t want to have to use any of this.” He motioned down to his gear

The commander sighed.

“Isn’t that the catch 22.”

Loyal to one side sympathetic to the other, and empathetic to both.

He would be relieved when it was finally fixed.

Though how he could help was beyond him. 

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 26: Death and Dreams

This was a fun one! Please forgive me for the angst at the beginning lol

I spent some time this week outlining the rest of the fic, and I found out that we are exactly two thirds of the way through what I have planned! Right now, I think we are going to end up with 38 or 39 chapters, so ive got at least twelve more to go. Crazy to think that there's still so much left in this story to tell!

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Rowan sat up quickly, a gasp already trapped in his throat. It was early morning, and the small window was white with frozen mist, preventing him from seeing much of the fortress’ surroundings. Regardless, he could tell that dawn was still far off – Mala’s golden light distracted by the waking of far off lands – and neglecting theirs.

Rowan rubbed at his eyes, seeking a way to wipe away the images that still danced behind his lids. He had been ripped from sleep by a dream, by the same dream that had been torturing him all week.

A nightmare that was not a vision, but a memory. A memory of the night he had spent two centuries trying to forget, and now was running like a cold river through his mind, relentless and inescapable:

The wind was reluctant beneath his wing feathers, tossing and tumbling and chafing against his magic’s inescapable pull. It was cold, bitingly cold. But Rowan didn’t feel it, not through his already icy chest. Frozen not with cold, but with fear. With panic.

The familiar land of home teased at the edges of his vision, but the picturesque mountain vista was distorted, marred by black clouds and the smell of smoke. The ice coating Rowan’s heart began to crack, shattering glass exploding in his torso. Piercing and slicing as it went.

Rowan dove, his wings straining, his breaths sharp in his lungs as he rounded a corner and their hilltop rose before his eyes. And then his heart dropped completely out of his chest.

Their home was gone.

Destroyed. Eradicated. Burnt to dust and ashes.

Nothing was left. Not the cottage, nor the stables or pens. Their animals were slaughtered and left in the snow to rot. And the garden, Lyria’s precious, treasured blooms, had been trampled into the earth. Already withering.

The surrounding trees were alight with a forest fire that could have been burning for hours. Days, even. The ground was dusted with snow, but the thin coating hadn’t proved a hindrance to the flames that danced from branch to branch, wild and harsh and utterly indifferent.

Rowan’s feet pounded into the earth as he approached the ground, shifting in less than a second. And he was running.

Twigs snapped over his skin, ripping into his face. Beads of blood dripped down his cheeks, replacing the tears that could not come. One moment he was running, and the next, he was home.

Their cottage was a pile of ash and burnt wood. A pyre. But Rowan ran for it anyways, his hands digging into the remains desperately, ignoring the heat of the still-burning embers. Ignoring the truth that was staring him baldly in the face: nothing that had been in the cottage when it burned would have survived.

All of a sudden, Rowan collapsed. His knees gave way and he was sitting in the dirt. Sitting in the grave of his only home.

Her name bubbled up through him, burning and itching as it went. But his throat tightened, trapping the cry in his chest where is writhed and twitched. Pressing against his heart and lungs and throat until they ached.

It felt as though hours passed, but it must have only been seconds. Drops of blood appeared before his eyes, and it was a while before he realized that they were real, before he recognized their smell.

His eyes slowly began to focus through the haze, and they traced the pools of red over the ground, through the trampled snow, up to the crest of the hill and –

Rowan tore up the hill, a desperate hope clawing its way up his throat. His hands reached for the body curled atop the cliff face, his fingers trembling. But then her scent reached him. Her cold, empty, lifeless scent.

And Rowan felt his very essence leaking away, melting into the snow as what was left of the mating bond guttered, and fizzled out.

He was alone.

Rowan reached out tentatively, his fingers seeking to cradle Lyria’s face, to stroke her hair, one last time.

But then a frown crossed over his mouth, his face tightening. Lyria’s hair was brown, not gold. And her scent was a mixture of silk and ferns and rabbits’ fur – not this strange, bright, citrusy spice.

Confusion washed over the agony in his chest. Dulling it, and distracting him. The mountains began to fall away, darkening and disappearing in his periphery. The falling snow seemed to stall in mid-air, sparkling like captured stars. Caution slowed Rowan’s fingertips as they stretched that final inch to brush across the female’s face and turn her head towards him.

Aelin Galathynius’ cold blue eyes looked back at him, their golden core frozen solid. A hollow void. Wild no more.

The princess’ blood stained his hands, and it sunk into his skin like acid. Filling him with an infinite, boundless guilt. Aelin was dead, and it was his fault.

He’d brought her to Maeve, and she killed her. And Rowan watched.

But no – she was here, right before his eyes. Her hair was a ripple of golden silk on the pillow, each breath a wisp of delicate white fog into the cold air of the stone room. Aelin was alive and well.

But not for long, a cold voice in the back of his head interrupted. Not for long.

And Rowan couldn’t find any disagreement within himself.

For even if she survived her looming encounter with Maeve, afterwards, she would leave. Back to Adarlan, or Terrasen, or Eyllwe. Onto other dangers. And he probably would never see her again.

Rowan stood up from the bed, and the princess sighed and turned over, her arm spreading out into the empty space he left behind. He lit a fire in the hearth, opened the window, and launched himself into the night sky – seeking answers from the wind that he knew it could not give him.

It was almost as though the dream had been crafted specifically to torture him, to make every part of him writhe in discomfort.

Rowan was used to dreaming of Lyria, was accustomed to closing his eyes each evening and being tortured with her scent, her bloodstained fingers, her broken body. Her screams. But this, this…lack, was almost even worse.

He was supposed to dream of her, his lost love. Was supposed to feel that pain for every day, every second, until he was returned to her in the Afterworld. For that pain to be taken away, for it to be turned on its head in such a way, was a violation of that unwritten contract. Of the agreement he’d made with himself when he gave his life over to Maeve. And so the guilt gnawed at him, a hungry animal.

But then seeing Aelin’s face in death, and knowing it was his fault –

Rowan shuddered, choking on the image and swerving in midair as he temporarily lost his balance. Even just imagining that guilt was beyond his capabilities. He couldn’t be the death of her. He refused to be.

But that meeting was creeping up on them, drawing ever closer. Each day Aelin improved by leaps and bounds. She was a natural fighter, taking everything he threw at her in stride, and then some. Even Fenrys and Connall couldn’t compare to her.

Even so, Aelin had not even come close to reaching her full potential. The iron bars locked around her power had not weakened, Aelin had only gotten better at navigating around them. She now knew how to access small amounts of her gift, and could control and manipulate those small portions, but the vast majority remained inaccessible to her. Held under lock and key.

But it almost didn’t even matter. Aelin was powerful enough that even without access to her entire gift, she was nearly ready to meet Maeve. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Rowan cursed inwardly, and made to turn back to the fortress, the blackened sky only just beginning to pale into a navy blue.

He could feel the days pressing in on him, the end of his time with Aelin looming close. There was a part of him that wanted to make the most of that time, that tasted the remnants of her blood on his tongue and wanted to damn the consequences to hell. Aelin had claimed him as a friend – was there a chance that she wanted him in that other way as well?

But it was only a very small part. There was still that male- no, man, across the sea. The love that had sent her away. A steel-cotton-and-birchwood trace in her blood. And though his mark had been fading in her scent of late, the amethyst ring remained on her finger, a clear sign of her feelings.

No, she didn’t want him the way he wanted her. But that was fine. In actuality, it was probably for the best. Rowan didn’t know what he would do if she had decided to pursue him for anything more than friendship. Aelin was relentless when she wanted something, and Rowan’s self-control was far from faultless. And there were more significant things to separate them than a captain across the sea.

Rowan sailed through the window of their rooms, shifted, and settled into the chair before the worktable. He removed the blades from their concealed places in his vambraces, and studiously began to clean them. There was still at least an hour before the sun truly dawned, but there was no chance of Rowan going back to sleep.

He reached beneath the work table, his hand stretching into the compartment hidden just underneath, searching for his sharpening set. But then his fingers brushed past an unexpected object – something he hadn’t thought about in weeks.

Rowan pulled out the bundle and unrolled it on top of the table surface, revealing the knives he had confiscated from Aelin all those months ago. Most of them were in piss-poor condition, having been neglected for so long (and not having been of particularly great quality to begin with). But there was one that stood out.

It was silver, and though it was burnished with dirt, the metal was of good make. The edge was strong, though dull, and the handle was wrapped in a sturdy leather thong. It was a good, solid weapon. One that could remain useful years after weaker tools had succumbed to the pressure of time.

Rowan discarded the other blades, grabbed his felt cloth and sharpening rod, and set to work.

···

Soon, Aelin awoke and headed down to the kitchens to help with breakfast.  Rowan went with her, thinking to grab some food before the kitchens filled with demi-Fae. On his way back up to his rooms however, Malakai found him.

The old male got right to the point. “Another body’s been found.” Rowan’s jaw locked, and a stone dropped into his stomach. “And there’s been a letter for you – it came with the courier this morning. She arrived just as I was about to go find you, so I thought I would deliver it for her.”

Malakai handed Rowan the letter, his eyes cold and hard, but Rowan knew that the aggression wasn’t directed towards him. This was the second body they had discovered this week, the other having been found three days earlier by Bas on his usual circuit. Rowan had forced Aelin to remain at Mistward that day to practice while he flew to the site to confirm Bas’ report, and to dispose of the body. But this time, he doubted he would be able to convince her to stay.

Rowan sighed and took the letter, recognizing the writing as Vaughn’s, but instead of opening it in the hallway he tucked it into a pocket in his tunic and turned his eyes back towards Malakai.

Without any further prompting, he launched into a description of the body’s location. It had been found by a sentry who belonged to a neighboring fortress to the south, far beyond any of the other sites. It had been spotted thirty-two miles directly southwest, just off the coast. Once the sentry returned, the commander at that fortress informed Malakai of the discovery.

Rowan only nodded at the male, who then jerked his head tersely in return and retreated back to the sentry station atop the battlement wall.

Each time Malakai arrived bearing news that yet another demi-Fae had been murdered it got harder. And now, it was the second time this very week. How many more would die before Rowan could figure out what the hell he was missing?

Rowan returned to his rooms in a daze, distractedly tearing open the report from Vaughn. It was short and to the point, as all Vaughn’s reports were. Apparently, Remelle, Benson, and Essar had arrived, and were now settling into the southwestern court to play diplomat and to spy for their queen – meaning that Vaughn was now on his way back to Doranelle.

Rowan set down the letter and sighed. Then began to gather up his many blades, and ready himself for a lengthy morning run.

···

Aelin had gotten even faster. Thirty-two miles – the farthest she had ever run. She had to push her Fae body to the limit, and yet they still made great time – it was still mid-morning when they arrived at the sea cliffs, where the body of the unknown demi-Fae was waiting for them.

Aelin stripped off her tunic, her chest heaving, forcing the white band she wrapped around her breasts to stretch and contract with each breath. Rowan averted his eyes, unbuttoning his own jacket while a delicate heat kissed his cheeks. He silently cursed at himself.

After they caught their breath, Rowan sent out a few feelers of wind, and they brought back impressions of pine and mist and birdsong…and a scent trail leading towards the shoreline. He and Aelin carefully approached the site, now close enough that Rowan didn’t even need his wind to scent the rotting corpse.

“Well, I can certainly smell him this time,” Aelin said wryly.

“This body has been rotting here longer than the demi-Fae from three days ago.” Rowan mused aloud. But then he regretted it when a spike of irritation struck him in Aelin’s scent. She definitely hadn’t forgiven him for leaving her behind earlier this week.

Rowan fully expected a sharp retort from the princess, scolding him for his protectiveness, but then the body of the demi-Fae came into view.

The ground around the body was torn up, the pine carpet full of gouges and hollows. There was a small stream just ahead, and even over its rushing, Rowan could clearly hear the buzzing of thousands of busy flies. All of which were hovering just above what appeared to be a heap of clothing piled behind a small boulder.

He approached the contorted form, swearing viciously as the smell began to overwhelm him. He leaned over to examine the male, forced to cover his mouth and nose with a forearm.

The demi-Fae’s face was twisted in horror, the obligatory dried blood oozing from the mouth, nostrils, and ears. The skin was wrinkled and dried as usual, but the clothes were perhaps more torn-up than others had been.

Aelin took a step forwards, her face twisted in disgust. “It has our attention and it knows it,” she said. “It’s targeting demi-Fae – either to send a message, or because they…taste good. But – ” Her voice cut off, her face becoming contemplative. “What if there’s more than one?”

Rowan’s brows raised in surprise. There had been moments where he had considered it, had though that the creature’s scent varied slightly between bodies. But he’d never been sure. And it had seemed even more unlikely that there were multiple overlooked and undetected creatures stalking the countryside.

Aelin moved to stand behind him, her scent filling with a nauseated horror. But as always, she didn’t let it overwhelm her.

“You’re old as hell,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “You must have considered that we’re dealing with a few of them, given how vast the territory is. What if the one we saw in the barrows wasn’t even the creature responsible for these bodies?”

Rowan narrowed his eyes, and gave her a shallow nod. She could very well be right – most land-locked predators didn’t have a hunting range beyond fifteen square miles, and the creature had killed over an area far closer to a hundred.

“Rowan,” Aelin’s worried tone pulled him from his train of thought. “Rowan, tell me you see what I’m seeing.” She swatted at the flies uselessly, her gaze fixed on the male’s hands, where you could just see –

Rowan cursed, crouching to get a closer look. There were small cuts along the palms, as if he had dug in his fingernails. Rowan used the tip of a blade to push back a bit of clothing torn at the collar. “This male – ”

“Fought.” Aelin interrupted. “He fought back against it. None of the others did, according to the reports.” She squatted beside him, holding out a hand for Rowan’s dagger.

He hesitated for a moment, but then her eyes met his, and he pressed the hilt into her open palm. Only for the afternoon.

Her lips twitched as she grabbed the dagger, seeming to tease him right back. I know, I know. I haven’t earned my weapons back yet. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.

Her gaze left his before he could respond, prematurely cutting off their silent conversation. Rowan snarled at her. He only got a quiet amusement in response.

Aelin carefully advanced towards the rotting forearm, gently running the tip of the dagger underneath the male’s cracked nails, and then smearing the contents on the back of her own hand.

A stain of oily black.

“What the hell is that?” Rowan demanded, leaning over her outstretched hand and sniffing the strange substance. He jerked back automatically, snarling. The smell…it was as though the stench coating the bodies had been distilled, condensed into solid form. And it was fouler than anything Rowan had ever smelled before. “That’s not dirt.”

Possibilities raced through his mind, each seeming less likely than the last. But that night-black oil…it couldn’t be blood.

“This isn’t possible.” Aelin jerked to her feet, her hands shaking slightly as she started to pace, all of a sudden filled with a manic energy. “This – this – this – ” her words came out in a stutter, and Rowan found himself rising slowly and carefully, forcing himself to press down on the panic that filled his own body at the sight of Aelin so frantic.

“I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.” The words didn’t seem to be directed at him, and instead Aelin was wrapped up in her own thoughts. No – her memories.

“Tell me,” Rowan growled, unable to wait any longer.

Aelin raised her eyes to meet his, her face tight. She moved to rub her eyes, but then seemed to remember the black oil still marking her skin, and went to wipe them on her shirt. Only then remembering that she wasn’t wearing one – only the breast band.

Her face twisted, and she crouched and ran her fingers in the stream, then rose and provided Rowan with an explanation. What she told him, astounded him.

Aelin had been holding out even more than he had suspected.

She told him of a creature, discovered in the catacombs beneath a library, within the very palace where she had been held captive for so many months. A beast with black blood and talons and a mutilated face – a demon with a human heart. Created, and held, beneath a clock tower made of Wyrdstone.

She told him of Wyrdmarks, of learning a language by firelight with the help of a friend, Nehemia, each word aching with the pain of her loss. Of how she had used the marks to contain the demon while she had killed it, cutting it to pieces right before the eyes of the crown prince.

She told him of the Wyrdkeys. And of the information that Maeve was holding hostage. Information that was necessary to stop a king who already possessed at least one of these keys, and was using it to create these demons. Targeting those with magic in their blood to be their hosts.

“The demon beneath the clock tower had been left there because of some defect, some flaw.” Aelin said, “But what if there were others, a new version that had been perfected?”

She shook with cold, her eyes cast to the ground, and Rowan sent a warm breeze her way. Wrapping the air around her like a silken ribbon, and erasing the gooseflesh that coasted her arms and stomach.

Rowan’s thoughts were twisting and contorting, but he held his face steady. This was the information he’d been missing. The connection that allowed the pieces to fall into place. He remembered the man Namonora had shown him, the man with the tale of a lethal darkness emerging from across the sea…

“How did it get here?” he asked.

Aelin shook her head. “I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong. But that smell – I’ll never forget that smell as long as I live. Like it had rotted from the inside out, its very essence ruined.”

Rowan began to pace. “But it retained some cognitive abilities. And whatever this is, it must have them, too, if it’s dumping the bodies.”

“Demi-Fae…they would make perfect hosts, with so many of them able to use magic and no one in Wendlyn or Doranelle caring if they live or die. But these corpses – if he wanted to kidnap them, why kill them?”

“Unless they weren’t compatible,” Rowan said. “And if they weren’t compatible, then what better use for them than to drain them dry?”

“But what’s the point of leaving the bodies where we can find them? To drum up fear?”

Rowan ground his jaw, stalking through the torn-up earth as if the ground would provide them with the answers they sought. But the dirt was only dirt.

“Burn the body, Aelin,” Rowan said, removing the sheath and belt that had housed the dagger still dangling from her hand and tossing them to her. She caught them easily. “We’re going hunting.”

···

Even when Rowan shifted into his other form, and circled high above, they found nothing. No trace of the creature, or of anyone at all, for that matter. This area wasn’t very densely habited – most of the local farmers inhabited an area farther down the coast.

As the light grew dim, they climbed up into the biggest, densest tree Rowan could find with several square miles, and they squeezed together onto a massive branch, huddled against the cold. Rowan hadn’t brought supplies for an overnight trip, and even with the coverage provided by the thick pine boughs, any fire would be seen for miles.

Aelin complained, petitioning to be allowed to summon even just a flicker of flame. But Rowan only pointed out that there was no moon that night, and as they had just proven – worse things than skinwalkers prowled these woods.

Instead of giving her space to grumble any further, Rowan asked her to explain more about the creature she’d encountered in the library, for her to detail its every strength and weakness. She told him readily, but nothing much stood out.

The creatures were strong, difficult to kill. Without the weaknesses of mortals, and with many of the benefits of immortal ones. As she spoke, Rowan pulled out one of the longer of his knives and began to clean it, more out of a desire to use the task to focus his own attention, than out of actual necessity.

“Do you think I was mistaken?” Aelin asked softly, “About the creature, I mean.”

Rowan turned away from her in order to pull his shirt over his head, and access the blades strapped to the skin beneath. He almost felt as though he could feel Aelin’s attention on him, could feel the slight pressure of her gaze on his back.

But when he turned back to face her, her eyes were fixed to his face. Still, the ghost of a smile marked his expression as he said, “We’re dealing with a cunning, lethal predator, regardless of where it originated and how many there are.” He grasped the small dagger that had been strapped over his left pectoral, and began to thoroughly wipe it down. “If you were mistaken, I’d consider it a blessing.”

Aelin leaned back against the tree trunk, her scent filling with exhaustion and dejection as she fell into her own thoughts.

Rowan let her be, instead turning to the familiar ritual of preparation. He systematically worked his way through his collection of blades, and then used the water skin to rinse his hands, neck, and chest, cleaning them of sweat and grime. Every now and again, feeling that faint pressure of Aelin’s watchful eyes.

He told himself that it didn’t mean anything, that she was looking at him simply because he was something to look at – an object in her field of vision. Her scent told him nothing, and so he dismissed those unwanted voices in his mind that thought that maybe, she was watching him for a different reason.

But still, the pressure felt…nice. It felt good to be looked at by her. To be seen.

Rowan pulled his shirt back on and settled his body against the trunk, his side pressing comfortably into Aelin’s. They sat in the dark quietly for a while until Aelin said, “You once told me that when you find your mate, you can’t stomach the idea of hurting them physically. Once you’re mated, you’d sooner harm yourself.”

Rowan turned to face her, the gold in her eyes glinting softly in the faint light. Her expression was unreadable. “Yes; why?”

“I tried to kill him. I mauled his face, then held a dagger over his heart because I thought he was responsible for Nehemia’s death. I would have done it if someone hadn’t stopped me. If Chaol – ” her voice broke off. “If he’d truly been my mate, I wouldn’t have been able to do that, would I?”

Rowan hesitated. He wanted to say no, that he didn’t think that Chaol was her mate. The man’s scent was fading from her blood, each day growing fainter and fainter. And it didn’t sit in that deep, essential place where Fae carried the scents of their mates.

No, the captain was a passing note in Aelin’s life, small and irrelevant. But the amethyst ring still glittered on Aelin’s finger, a reminder of the man who still held her heart. And Rowan wasn’t sure that Aelin wanted to hear that the man wasn’t hers to claim. Love could be a hard thing to let go of, regardless of how blatantly its falseness stared you in the face.

So instead Rowan said, “You hadn’t been in your Fae form for ten years, so perhaps your instincts weren’t even able to take hold. Sometimes, mates can be together intimately before the actual bond snaps into place.”

“It’s a useless hope to cling to, anyway.”

“…Do you want the truth?”

Aelin only tucked her chin into her tunic and closed her eyes. “Not tonight.”

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Minghao: Find Our Way (Part One)

Characters: Minghao x (blind) female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff

Word count: 1,200

Summary: You already knew who you were meant to be with and how your life was supposed to go. The only thing keeping you and the life you were destined to lead apart was the fact you were blind. At least, for now, you could meet him in your dreams.

Tag list: @choiminjae0325​​​​​​​​​​​ @heolykpop​​​​​​​​​​​ @fullsun-donghyuck​​​​​​​​​​​ @yoonbabe-d​​​​​​​​​​​​ @exuwu​​​​​​​​​​​ @lets-get-1t​​​​​​​​​​​​ @sooooofrench​​​​​​​​​​​​ @vintageot5​​​​​​​​​​​ @sehunnies-hunnie96​​​​​​​​​​ @luvhannie​​​​​​​​​​ @childfmoonn​​​​​​​​​​ @wobwobkpop​​​​​​​​​​ @henloimawierdobye​​​​​​​​​​ @dirinast​​​​​​​​​ @hhhhwww7​​​​​​​​ @joshwoah​​​​​​ @wreckedbytae​​​​ @salty-for-suga​ (if you wanna be added please send an ask or a dm!!)

Unable to tag: @uglyratlmao @birthday-prinxess

a/n: soooo I think I got somewhere between 2-4 parts of Minghao’s story done in the original tftp but a lot of stuff is gonna have to change in this one, probably. also i never got to like the plot of his story and this time i’ll finally be able to!! but i hope y’all like it because everybody seems to love Hao’s mate lol (also when things are in italics, it takes place in their dreams which is why this whole part is in italics. and just assume they’re speaking mandarin and not korean)

Next | Find Our Way Masterlist

“You sneaky little--”

Minghao’s voice cut off as his arms snaked around you, lifting you off the ground. You let out a squeal as he spun you around a few times before setting you back on your feet, the grass soft against your bare soles. When you turned to face him, his warm eyes were happy even though he tried to keep his face stern.

“What’s that look for, love?” you questioned, quirking a brow at your mate.

“You know what it’s for, _____,” he huffed, a little too cutely for you to take seriously. “What’re you doing messing with Seungcheol’s mate?”

“Oh, did Jooyeon say something?” you asked, remembering the frantic energy you felt coming from somewhere near Minghao’s dreams. You had to check it out after visiting him. ���I was helping her. She seemed distressed. I sensed the bad energy.”

“Are you the reason she keeps winding up in weird places? Hansol found her in a shrub yesterday.”

“A shrub?” you gasped, giving him an incredulous look. “How in the heavens would I manage to put that girl in a bush?”

He just shrugged. “You manage to sneak into her dreams; who knows what you’re capable of?”

“Not that,” you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed a kiss to the button of his nose. “I know you all think it’s me doing it, but I don’t think I can. I’m good, but not that good. Try questioning Soonyoung. His power involves something along the lines of mind control, correct?”

“_____…”

“What? I must’ve done some good for her because there’s no negative dreams that I can sense anywhere near you.”

“Because she probably ran off again,” he chuckled, his hands finding their way around your waist once again. “I think Cheol’s close to losing his mind. I think he’s getting pretty fed up with going out to track her down.”

That took you by surprise. Your father was a werewolf himself, so you knew a lot about how werewolves worked, and you knew that Seungcheol would go to the ends of the earth for Jooyeon. So you were surprised to hear that he was annoyed about having to go find her. Then again, he was being woken up in the middle of the night frequently because of it. The poor guy was probably tired. You would offer your assistance but you weren’t much help when you were who knows how far away from the pack, and you had no way of getting to them.

Even though you had been blind most of your life -- there was an accident when you were a child that you didn’t remember but you were told about it by your parents -- you still hated not seeing. If you could see, you could make your way to your mate. Without your sight, you were stuck in your home in this foreign country.

“When I manage to get my sight, I promise I’ll come to you and knock some sense into that pack of yours,” you swore with a solid nod, making him chuckle at how serious your turned. “Don’t laugh at me, that promise includes you, too! In fact, you’ll be the first ass I kick into shape.”

“Sure, my love,” Minghao nodded with a grin, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “So how did your day go? Did you do anything interesting?”

“Nothing new,” you sighed, recalling the typical events that happened almost every day. Your neighbor visited to help you with daily tasks, you sat by the window and listened to the birds, and then you went to sleep. Boring and uneventful. “What about you?”

“Mingyu, Danbi, Seungcheol, and Joshua took Jiwoo to see that pack that helped them before, but the rest of us stayed home,” he shrugged.

“The one with the American alpha?”

“Yeah. I think his name is Jiung. Anyway, when they came home, Hansol was sniffing all over everybody for some reason. So was Soonyoung. It was weird.”

You raised your eyebrows, finding this information interesting, “Really? That is odd. Did either of them say why?”

“Soonyoung just said Joshua smelled nice, and then Josh told him to go away,” he repeated with a chuckle. “Hansol didn’t really say much about it, though.”

“Sometimes, I think you guys really are just giant dogs,” you teased, recalling Minghao talking about other stories of the strange things the pack did that were very dog-like.

“Yeah, but we’re not dogs.”

“You almost are,” you giggled. “Anyway, why don’t we talk about us for a change?”

You didn’t have to look at your mate to know he was pouting, you could easily tell by the whine in his voice, “Don’t make it sound like we never talk about us.”

“I just like to tease you,” you giggled, pulling away to sit down in the grass. Minghao sat beside you before laying back, looking up at the clear sky. You laid down beside him, your head resting on his chest. “When do you think fate will finally bring us together?”

“Soon, _____. I can feel it.” he nodded, moving an arm under your body to hold your waist.

You tilted your head to give him a skeptical look, “You can?”

“No, but I wanted to sound reassuring,” he shrugged, making you laugh. “It’ll happen, though. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I wish I could see in real life and not just in my dreams,” you sighed sadly, looking up at the beautiful blue sky above you.

“At least you know what I look like, though. You know I’m not completely horrible looking.”

“You’re handsome and you know it.”

He chuckled at you, playfully rolling his eyes, “But it’s so much better hearing you say it, _____.”

“Xu Minghao, you’re so--”

You were cut off by the strong sense of negative energy. It was something you could only sense when you were dreaming, and the other person was dreaming – it meant they were having a nightmare, and you felt compelled to stop it. It was simply in your nature.

Minghao easily sensed your tension, as this had happened other times with his pack, and even with the mates. You usually tended to ignore it if it was someone from the pack since you only got to spend time with Minghao while he was asleep, but you were now worried it could be something serious.

“Go,” Minghao prodded, sitting you up as he did so himself. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“But what if it’s just Jun having that weird giant bird dream again?” you looked to Minghao, concern in your eyes. Any time you got to spend with him was precious so you didn’t like leaving. “Maybe I should ignore it…”

“But what if it’s Wonwoo or Mingyu or Soomin?” he pointed out. “Or what if it’s Joshua having another nightmare about Lilly?”

You sighed, knowing it was best to at least check. Nodding, you sat up on your knees, facing your mate, “I’ll be back soon.”

“I love you,” he told you before kissing your lips for a moment.

“I love you just as much,” you replied before you disappeared from his dream.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Witness State & Coup de Grâce | Feeding Habits Update #3

Hey People of Earth!

Before we get into this update, TRIGGER WARNING that this chapter discusses attempted suicide, mental health issues, animal cruelty, toxic relationships, and some nods to starvation, so if these are topics you’re sensitive about, I would skip out on this update!

This chapter was a slight nightmare to draft as it went through many, many iterations due to a real struggle to attain the desired emotional arc, and also because of a few logistical problems. In total, it’s about two and a half months of work as it combines some scenes from the old chapter two while also patching areas I cut with new content. Despite the difficulties, I am so happy I pushed through because the final product is quite strong. Here’s a scene breakdown:

Scene A:

We start at the “beautiful place” AKA the cove Lonan and Eliza frequently visit. The last time we’ve seen Lonan was at the end of chapter two, when he had his mild “public freakout moment” on the steps of a cathedral. 

On the beach, he rests on the shoreline while reflecting on all the things he’s been tormented by since chapter two (wicked children, fathers, parenthood etc).

He sees an illusion of his father who is obviously not there (he’s very dead!) which propels him to converse about him with Eliza (remembering that Eliza and Lonan’s father were once romantically involved).

This conversation goes south as Lonan is able to unpiece some of Eliza’s mistruths until Lonan finally admits he wants to see his father again, insisting he’s still “alive” through the darkroom abandoned in Oregon him and Harrison failed to destroy in ch. 1 of Moth Work.

Scene B:

Lonan watches a moth through the window (that moth motif tho). Here he recounts what occurred at the hospital in ch. 2--the mother and her three kids taking him there, and then eventually being whisked away by Eliza.

Lonan heads to the kitchen to drink an acetaminophen but quickly realizes he’s not alone in the main apartment. His father sits on the couch looking over photo albums, each leaf holding the same photo: the postcard of Eliza that Harrison initially finds in chapter one of Moth Work. This vision obviously does not exist and is prompted by sleep deprivation but he doesn't know that lol.

Seeing this photo and his father prompt him to believe that he can only get away from this feeling of being haunted without Eliza in his life and further bad decisions ensue which I won’t get into!

I explained the meaning of the title HERE.

Excerpts:

Here’s the opening bit which is the most recent addition to the chapter:

The water is never murky, but today it doesn’t sparkle. Like it’s taken a low dose of cyan, it foams pale against the shore, an offering that wets the tips of Lonan’s shoes. He sits under the cove with one hand pressed into the current, each singular wave like a finger tottering over his veins. Today, their beautiful place is only an arched wall of stones and roily ocean.

Eliza is sunbathing. She lies on her back in the centre of the cove, where its mouth opens to a ceiling of sun. On the drive from the hospital, they both remained silent, Eliza’s hands taut like leather around the steering wheel, and Lonan’s head soldered to the cool window. Even when she pulled into the lot of a diner, named after a vague Canadian city or perennial flower, she said nothing, exiting the car to return to it with two crayon-coloured slushies, his red, hers orange. By the time she pulled up to the beach, her drink was half empty, his fully melted, urging against the brim of the cup. He followed her when she exited the car, parked against a row of pebbles, and placed his hand palm-first against the water the moment she lay against the sand and closed her eyes. Now, water puckers over the shoreline and between each of his fingers, a sort of absent massage. The water is a dull, vitamin-like blue. Warmer than he’s expected for the middle of February, pleasantly pruning his fingertips.

This is a direct continuation of that:

The sun has started to set. It flares against the horizon, its orange singeing the water’s blue. Like in front of the church, it fills him, its heat a comfortable grip around his throat. Though it should remind him to keep awake, its warmth lulls him closer to the sand until he rests his head just where the water laps. He knows it says nothing. He knows he has not slept in days. But to him, its rays nurse his skin like the loop of a nursery rhyme, and when he is parallel to the sky, he closes his eyes and welcomes the sun like it’s an infection. As colours pulse underneath his eyelids, water soaks the crown of his head, and it truly is like being buried at sea, just him, the sun, and the water at his perimeter.

The next chapter in this update is chapter four, aka Coup de Grace. This chapter was an absolute joy to write after struggling to get a handle on chapters two and three, and I’d consider writing this chapter to be, by far, the best writing sessions of my life. In this chapter I feel I really figured out the “crux” of Lonan’s character/his darkest secret, and that’s essentially that he believes all children are the wicked stems of adults, a belief he actually doesn't want to have, and actively combats until he sort of becomes absorbed by it. I learned a lot about my boy in this chapter and learning such important details about a character I’ve been writing for five years feels like a gift!

This chapter plays with form/the timeline a bit because we jump around on the timeline, almost like a movie that begins at the end. This was difficult to do in fiction, but I think I pulled it off, and am really happy with the chapter. Bear with me tho as this breakdown may be confusing:

Scene A:

We start with Lonan rapidly making his way to his father’s darkroom which sits in the middle of a forest. He’s brought supplies with him to destroy it.

The first line of this chapter mimics the first line of Moth Work, which you’ll see below.

Scene B:

We jump back in the fictive past to the morning that would’ve occurred right after the end of chapter three. Lonan goes about his morning routine but is disrupted by a loud thud from outside. Anya, the woman he’s befriended from chapter two, has jumped from the roof of the apartment complex. This attempt is unsuccessful.

His first reaction is to run to Anya’s apartment to see if her son, Joey, is okay. 

Scene C:

Less of a scene and more of an internal monologue of Lonan reflecting on Anya’s attempted suicide, and that he feels in some ways, she’s administered her own “death blow”.

Scene D:

Eliza takes Lonan to his father’s cabin to “get him away” from what’s happening at the apartment since he’s really taking the news badly.

Eliza tries to get Lonan to eat something because he hasn’t eaten much since Anya’s news, and they have a conversation about Eliza’s motives in volunteering Lonan to help Anya in the first place.

Scene E:

A flashback where 14-year-old Lonan and his father are at the cabin, about to kill a fish using the ikejime method. His father has informed him the fish is dead, but Lonan knows this is very much a lie.

Scene F:

The fictive present, where Lonan lies on a couch inside the cabin, Eliza tending to a fire. He has a bad feeling (he’s right about that lol)

Scene A2:

We continue the events from scene A as Lonan enters the darkroom, only to find out it’s been cleared out save for three pictures hanging that tell a story and reveals a lot of Eliza’s secrets.

All you need to know about these photos is that it makes their romance feel somewhat like a lie lol.

Eliza finds him at the darkroom despite telling him not to go alone, and Lonan tries to process the new info/secrets revealed.

Scene G:

In the fictive present, Eliza cuts off Lonan’s hair and together they burn each weft. They discuss a few things (his father, the women he’s befriended, future children, mating habits of the praying mantis)

Scene E2:

Back to the flashback where Lonan and his father have killed, cleaned, and eaten the fish. They rinse their hands off in the lake before his father knocks them both into the water.

Excerpts:

This is the opening, ft. the mirroring first line which makes me a lil too giddy:

The darkroom isn’t haunted, but a dead man owns it—and he knows exactly where to find him. Through the woods, Lonan brushes past bushes of gooseberries and wild rhubarb, a gas can sloshing rhythmically in his hands. In his teeth, he holds his flashlight so its beam brightens the pathway. It is not yet dawn.

This is a description of the darkroom that leads to the end of the scene:

He shouldn’t know where he’s going. The forest is so dense and unanimous, a duplication of itself, nothing more than repetitions of the same tree, same flower, same stream. But he doesn’t need to see to know where his feet take him—he doesn’t even need the flashlight. He’s memorized the direction to the darkroom like the pattern of veins on his own arm.

He is not surprised to see it still stands. As if protected from rain, thunderstorms, the fallen trees that crisscross at the walkway; it’s always been a divine place. The air is damp, and particles of mist cling to his throat.

He sets the gas can in front of the steel panelling that makes the door with urgency. He does not need to rush but cannot take his time.

Wildflowers burst from in between the cracks of concrete the shed sits on and he knows each species like they’ve been bred in his blood. Wax flowers, thistles, clusters of asters he’d sometimes gather as a boy and leave as offerings in the heart of the forest’s most prominent clearings, like an offering, or a ransom.

Lonan kneels once the first thread of sunlight leaks between the whisper of trees. He is familiar with this forest, the cabin not too far away, the messages the water speaks to him when he sits at its edge most nights, why the darkroom was his father’s favourite place and why it always will be. So when sunlight hits his eyes, he presses his fingertips against his lips, and looks to the sky for mercy.

Lonan watching his fave TV show that leads into Anya’s jump:

He turned the television onto its usual program while on his last three mandarin segments and looked on as a herd of caribou dotted a waterway. They moved like the current, pattering along the prairie, worriless. He should have heard the part where a wolf caught up to the herd, the same wolf that would later go on to single out a young fawn and silence it with two teeth in its throat like bullet wounds. He should have seen the part where the prey was consumed, its flesh a desperate shade of red. But the thud distracted him. Maybe not even a thud, more like a crash. A sound he felt in his temples, a ringing in his ear, like a chickadee. Lonan set the skin of the mandarin onto the coffee table and stood slowly. It’s his body that moved him, no force of the mind, toward the balcony. In one movement, he unlocked and shoved open the glass sliding door, rucking it forward with his body weight when it stuck. On his lip, he tasted citrus and salt, a mixture of fruit and sweat.

He heard death before he saw it. The way each identical sliding door of the apartment units around him shook open, just like his. What a woman on the sidewalk declared, her tone so shrill, he couldn’t tell if she was delighted or horrified, something like, “I thought she was a bird—I thought she was a gift from heaven.” The garbled sound of an infant, confused by the sound concrete makes when a human batters it.

We get Lonan’s first response and some Joey and *that stunning motif tho*:

Lonan did not deescalate the stairs to the ground floor to join the growing crowd. He did not call an ambulance or rush to perform CPR. He ran upward, scaling flights of stairs as if airborne, with little effort. Once he reached her unit, it was the tin of madeleines he noticed first, sitting unopened, untouched, dare he thought, neglected on her welcome mat. It’s this that lulled him, freezing him in place for a moment. He recollected nothing of bringing the madeleines to her the evening previous, of leaving them neatly tucked against her straw welcome mat. Innocently idle there, his gift unrecognized.

Joey sat on the couch. The television was on, projecting technicolor polygons onto the boy’s face. Lonan did not register what it was he watched, which animated shapes pounced and danced on screen. Joey did not cry at first. He sat, staring wondrously at the screen like it was a trap door to a different dimension. The socks secured around his miniature feet looked freshly ironed, and his hair smelled like his mother did when Lonan first met her—like coconuts.

The buzzing of onlookers and neighbours sounded like the caribou running. A constant drumming of a snare, a guttural kind of ambience. He thought of Anya the day previous, her desperate excitement to paint over the wall, the way she mixed that orange juice drink, incredulous, experienced. He thought of the sourdough he never picked up, and there on the counter they sat, one torn down the middle like it was ripped bare-handed, the other skewered with a chef’s knife. He thought of Anya’s hospitality, her coy excuses to help them both avoid embarrassment, the way each part of her apartment transformed into gold. He thought of their conversation, Anya’s initial instruction when she left him alone with her son. So when Joey cried, Lonan knew exactly to reach for the remote and tick the volume up until his sobbing quieted, like the last few minutes of a rainstorm, passionately loud, then stunningly silent.

Here we briefly reference 2 Kings 21:6: “And he burned his son as an offering and used fortune-telling and omens and dealt with mediums and with necromancers. He did much evil in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger.”

Anya will never be the mother she once was, in the capacity she longed to be. Joey will grow up without a father and with a mother who cannot mother him in the ways she’d always hoped; he’ll have no one to recreate. That is the real loss—what could have been. Anya burned herself into an offering, administered her own kill shot, provoked her own fate; either life or death, and her fate chose neither.

The following mirrors something Lonan’s sister, Reeve, says in Houses With Teeth about hunger:

The day Anya jumped from her balcony onto the sidewalk below, Eliza took Lonan to his father’s cabin. In a daze, he watched her pack a bag with enough things to tide them over for a month, and in that same daze, they reached the cabin before sunset. That night, Eliza rifled through the cabinets to put together a meal, and her findings assembled as a can of tuna topped with crumbles of saltines—cheap take on a deconstructed pâté.

She served him his dinner on a set of plates he vaguely recognized—terrazzo with a scalloped edge, maybe held a scrambled egg or halved tomato when he was a child. He stared through the French doors, down to the water that padded below. Even when she tried some for herself, putting on her enjoyment in exclamations like “It’s a culinary masterpiece. Refined. Daring. A little spectacular,” she couldn’t convince him to eat. His appetite disappeared when Anya fell from the sky; there would be no hunger as penance.

This is the fish flashback:

Lonan knows the fish is not dead. He is fourteen but not naïve. Sun warms the back of his neck; maggots shimmer over the gummy slick of the water’s surface. Today is what someone would describe as the perfect day. Trees whisper secrets amongst the spines of their leaves. Birds teeter on the neck of birch trees. A butterfly dusts its wings of the shore’s sand and nips at his childish knuckles.

The fish is not dead. This is fact. In his palm, it expands, its gills like the crescent cut of the moon. The fish is not dead. Its mouth kisses the air like it’s a divine thing, each blip of its lips greedy, like the air tastes of gold. The fish is not dead. Its scales grate against Lonan’s palms, shimmering, its prettiness its last defense mechanism. The fish is not dead.

More with this fish memory:

“It’s dead. It does not even know the taste of life. Why save it?”

“I don’t want to save it,” Lonan says. His father’s wedding band digs into his forehead. To an onlooker, it may look like he’s about to dip him forward into the water, not a drowning, but a baptism.

“What do you want to do with it?”

Mourn it, he wants to say. Pity it. Sacrifice it.

The water whistles ahead of them, all the uncaught sunfish gloriously slashing naively in the water. They are unaware of their future demise, and the current demise of their loved ones, bodies all piled into the net as if on display. Lonan’s eyes sting with lake water, a streak of it dripping onto his lip so when his father reaches over him and secures his hand like a marionette around the screwdriver, he tastes salt and doesn’t stop tasting it.

And the end of part A of the fish memory that gets a little gory:

“It dies for us,” his father says, his voice dampened, like the distant blip of the lake. “So we give it mercy in return.”

As the screwdriver’s tip lowers closer to the fish, Lonan licks his top lip and asks, “Why do we need to show it mercy if it’s already dead?”

“Le coup de grâce. A death blow. To end the suffering of the wounded.”

“But it’s already dead.”

“Even the dead still suffer.”

Lonan does not register when the screwdriver impales the fish’s brain. He does not register when his father uses both their hands to slit the fish’s gills with a hunting knife or register the warm spurting of its blood up their knuckles. He stares at the fish’s glasslike eye, and as he and his father gut and scale the fish, puppet and puppeteer, he imagines the way he’ll feel with its head in his mouth.

Here’s a section from the fictive present:

Seven days after Anya jumps off her apartment’s balcony, Lonan lies on a pig’s leather couch his father once towed in from the city, a damp washcloth doused in eucalyptus essential oil pressed to his forehead.

At first, he fears the blinking comes from stars and that the cabin’s roof has been removed. But as he comes to, he smells it, the earthy crack of wood, the wisp of smoke, and he knows the light that pulses is a fire.

Lonan opens his eyes. As he’s thought, he lies on his father’s couch, essenced water dribbling down his temples from the washcloth. Eliza sits hunched on the stone of the fireplace’s ledge, her shoulders ripening under the orange heat. She’s burning something. The scent of scorched film is not unfamiliar to him. Like his mouth, it is dry and acrid, like the lick of a battery.

“You promised,” she says, as if sensing he’s awoken. Lonan does not move, even as the eucalyptus soak drizzles into his eyes.

Eliza no longer wears the parka. She’s stripped to a pearl-coloured camisole, her feet bare and propped flush against the brick. Glossy red lacquer colours her toenails, reflects the light in ovular patterns along its surface.

“A false witness shall be punished, and a liar shall be caught,” she says. “Proverbs.”

Going to leave this tea here casually:

The darkroom was misplaced. This was Lonan’s first thought when he yanked open its steel panel door and entered to reveal its contents. He did not need the glimmer of a flashlight to confirm his instinct. This was not the same darkroom he’d known as a child, or the darkroom he found his sister in, or the darkroom him and Harrison tried to destroy. Everything was slotted away, puzzled back into a configuration so unknown to him, so wrong to him, that the organization felt more like war.

Unlike when he and Harrison had last stepped foot inside of the darkroom, lugging the gas can along with them, not unlike what he did then, the photos that used to string clothespinned in no justifiable order were now taken down. The bricks of photo paper forming a maze around the developing tables, the amber bottles of chemicals—all of it, meticulously put back in places Lonan knew they never had. Under his boots, he did not feel the crunch of glass or slip of forgotten negatives. The darkroom had been swept clean.

Lonan dropped the gas can at the darkroom’s entrance, and removed the flashlight from between his teeth, thumbing it off. He worked his way around the shed like he’d been wounded, staggering, stopping to hold himself upright. Nothing was in its rightful chaos. Expired film lay stacked in a waste bin he’d never seen before. Bad paper cuts had been shredded. The photos he’d been so accustomed to not looking at, all gone, except for three, evenly clipped on the last three lines.

In the distance, an eagle cawed. The stream trilled. Tadpoles cricketed along the embankment.

Lonan approached the remaining photographs like they’d electrocute him. They were displayed one after the other, each on its own line. The first, a picture not unfamiliar to him. Eliza standing in front of a colourful street of vendors. Her loopy signature on the back a jagged indication of where she signed it, most likely wobbling on a train, or in the back of a taxi. He picked it off its clothespin and held it up to a hole in the roof where sun bled through. Nothing had changed from the photo since he’d taken it last year, and he was almost grateful she’d left it fossilized when she took it from his pocket. His gratitude did not last by the time he saw the second photo, so unexpected, he had to glance twice.

His father stood arced slightly behind him, his hands not visible. Lonan knew where they were—one secured around his forehead, the next urging a screwdriver up a stone. Sun scalded the water’s surface, wrinkled it with light. He remembered the song his father whistled as he fried the sunfish on a birch branch, truly less of a song and more of a reminder as he hummed up and down each minor scale, not once stopping to check his work, like he knew better than any instrument.

Lonan plucked the photograph off the line and held it closer. Though he was shaded mostly by his father’s back, he knew they were both in it. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned it over to find that same looping signature inked onto the back, smudged, like she’d forgotten to let the ink dry before handling.

It would’ve been easier to think about the second photo’s implications had he not seen the third. He could’ve excused it—a shot taken by a neighbour, though the cabin was remote. A shot that fired itself, the camera discarded on the ground, though it was taken at eye level. A shot signed with familiar initials E.L.K, as if those letters could stand for anything but Eliza Louise Kiang. It would’ve been easier to excuse her presence. To excuse her knowledge of him, to forget she’d ever told him she didn’t know his father had children, that she swore she’d never have been with him had someone informed her. It would’ve been so much easier.

The last photo was not a photo at all, not in the same capacity at least. The ink had gone purplish from the elements but swirled, almost horror-like around the photo’s frame. He could have pretended the white swishes of colour were strands of lace, or the awkward scratch of photo blur. He could’ve pretended to not understand. But there it was. The light funnelling down on the black and white shape so he understood it was not a photograph he looked at, but a child.

I have already shared this line a few times, but it’s my favourite thing I’ve ever written oops!:

When she looked at him, she grinned, and he turned his face to the ceiling where a hole in the roof caved around a branch. The sun’s eye disappeared behind the bullet of the wood, leaving only its outer edges to skirt the sky, a veiling that felt less like an eclipse, and more like evidence of an exit wound. 

Obligatory “I’m the grass” shoutout:

“All people are like grass, and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field,” he says without once reading what’s actually written on the page. “Isaiah.”

“Isaiah was onto something, don’t you think? Poor grass, poor flowers—they all die in the end, but they have their God. They have their saviour. Everything dying except for God and his word.”

Eliza cuts another clump of hair. The fire welcomes its feed with haste.

“What does this have to do with children?”

“Do you feel you’re the God of these women, Lonan? Are you their saviour?”

Lonan shakes his head. “I’m the grass.”

And to finish:

After they eat the fish, Lonan and his father rinse their hands in the lake. This is respect. This is self-ordinance. This is a holy act.

His father stoops farther into the stream than he does, water nipping his knees. The sun has disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky now coloured periwinkle, silvering his hair. The taste of sunfish coddles Lonan’s tongue, oiled and briny with saltwater. They share a bar of orange glycerin soap, its scent cloying, like a rotting fruit basket. His father peels the bar between his palms, scrubbing until his fingers disappear under suds.

That’s it for this update! Hope y’all enjoyed! :) I’ll be back soon to update on chapter 5!

--Rachel

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 25

LISTEN TO ME — 0025

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.7K

(a/n: i wrote it very quickly, it's not one of my best writings, but still... here it is. i’m starting to write another one ok?)

Jade wasn't getting to work that afternoon, neither was Jinah.

Kang occupied her customary branch next to Choi. Although she hadn't yet received any call — which was commonplace on taciturn Mondays — she kept the headphones in her ears and the little microphone attached to them near her mouth, since she wasn't managing to drive a hundred percent of her attention to work and probably didn't even notice the flashing red light in case someone decided to call; so, she'd be alerted by a beep that would take over her auditory channels and bring her back to reality if that were necessary. On her desk there was nothing more than the open laptop and a bottle of water in half. Every five minutes, her eyes were fixed on spying on the little partition that separated her from Jinah, and she could tell with certainty that her friend was, definitely, not doing well at all.

"Unnie?" — she called softly. Jinah took about five seconds to go into orbit and look away from a random spot on the wall, then leading them to the american's. Jade eventually got Choi to tell her what she wanted to hear and know when they were leaving college. — "Stop thinking about it, nothing's going to happen."

Jinah remained silent. She really didn't want to take it all seriously, after all, as Jade had said earlier, it was just a message and Seoul was too big for anyone to track down her whereabouts like that, overnight. But Jinah knew Minhwan more than she wanted to know and she knew what he was capable of to achieve the things he wanted. Besides, it wasn't only Choi who was involved in the snowball, but, consequently, everyone around her, and that was what made her more and more worried.

"Are you afraid?" — Jade spoke again at Choi's silence.

"No" — it was true. The time when Jinah was shaking just to hear the name of her ex-boyfriend had passed, today she just wanted to punch him. — "I'm distressed, it's different."

"You don't have to be like this, I told you that nothing will happen" — it wasn't as if Jade could be absolutely sure, but, if it were up to her and Changbin, things would still be under control. The couple had their methods. — "This guy could even be the owner of the hill" — Jinah almost laughed at the expression and slang used by her friend — "there in the town where you lived, but here he won't be at the top, no. First I'll scrub him all over."

"A little below his waist should be the most you can reach, Jade."

"Perfect! It's even easier, Changbin breaks one of his balls and I break the other."

Jinah couldn't hold back a low chuckle, though it was mostly nervous.

"Those action movies aren't doing you good, I just think."

"My action movies aren't the problem, but your restlessness about that subject, yes."

"And how do you want me not to get restless?" — Jinah turned in the wheeled chair, facing Kang, who decided to remove the headphones for a moment. It was too important to pass up. — "He even found out my number. It wouldn't surprise me if he had become a hacker and, unlike you think, knew where we live" — Jinah remembered that, shortly before moving to Seoul, Minhwan was developing some very suspicious technological skills. — "And it scares me a bit, Jadey," — she confessed. — "You know what he's done, can you imagine if all that happens again? Jisung, he..." — she closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to think about that part. — "I don't want anything bad to happen to him, even more because of me."

"You're not going to walk away from him, are you?"

"Of course not" — the same stupidity, Jinah wouldn't commit twice. She wouldn't let Minhwan take anything else from her. — "If I didn't do it even when I discovered I was in love with him, it's not now that I'm going to dwell on something I've seen that I can't do."

"That's my girl" — Jade approved of her friend's decision with a shake of her head. — "Don't let this idiot intimidate you."

Though a small voice screamed in the back of her head, Jinah nodded: — "I'll try."

                         ♡˖°

Jisung could say that he liked that publishing house, but let's face it: every day was a new test of patience.

Beginning with Donghyuck, who made him angry with such a facility that he even looked like Jinah from weeks ago. Not that he did it directly, but the mania of complaining about everything and everyone made Jisung very angry, so that Han almost thanked in his knees whenever Renjun ordered the boy to shut his fucking mouth. The bad part was that they started fighting right away and Jaemin kept trying to calm things down.

Jaemin, all cute and affectionate. Sometimes, Jisung wanted to hit him. It was so much sweetness for one person that it even caused diabetes. In addition, there was the fact that he participated in the strangest relationship that Han had ever seen in his life. One hour he was full of flame over Renjun, in another he was kissing the young man who worked at the reception, and, as if that weren't enough, Renjun also dragged his wing to that same boy. It was a mess, Jisung didn't understand anything.

When the dance of triple mating wasn't happening, Donghyuck complained that he was the only one who didn't have a boyfriend and his chinese friend refuted that it was obvious that he didn't, since he was very unbearable for someone to bear him every day, then started a new fight that, would, surely, make Jisung's head ache. It was a relief when the time to leave finally came.

On leaving the publishing house, already with the dark and starry sky above the tops of the buildings, Jisung took the first step and felt the phone vibrate in his hand. It was a message from Jinah, asking if he had already gone home, and as the boy was feeling a bit of lazy typing, eventually called the girl (it wasn't because he liked to hear her voice on the phone, far from it).

"I'm leaving the publishing house now," — he replied as Choi answered.

"Can you wait for me at the first corner?" —, for a moment Jisung had forgotten that the central where Jinah worked was very close.

"Come quickly" — and so the call ended.

Han walked to the right place and didn't have to wait long until he saw Jinah crossing the street to get to where he was. Jisung didn't know her well enough to understand her personality completely, but it was clear that Choi seemed downcast.

"Hard day?"

"Kind of" — Jinah shrugged one shoulder. — "Can you talk a little bit?"

"It seems the roles are reversing" — Jisung smiled weakly, prompting the girl to do the same. — "What do you want to talk about?" — he asked, starting to walk toward the park across the busy boulevard. He was tired, but he didn't mind losing a few minutes listening to the problems of someone who had done the same for him.

Jinah had already talked to Jade, Chan and Changbin, but something urged her to talk to Jisung as well. It was a strange desire to want him to be inside her life, as if that way she could have him closer. There was also the fact that she liked his company. The problems seemed to lose some of the importance when she was near him.

"I had a really stupid boyfriend when I was younger," — she began, sitting on one of the park benches. The boy sat down beside her and stood listening intently. — "He would do that controlling guy, that even implied with my friends" — with implicating, Jinah meant to scare, to diminish, to attack and to drive away in the worst possible way. Minhwan did the same to the people with whom Choi got involved after the end of the relationship, or even worse, but she preferred to hide that part. — "We broke up when things got very complicated, but he never accepted it very well. That's why my parents sent me to live here, with my aunt. It was very difficult to bear what he did..." — all the terrible memories reproducing in her mind. — "But now he's in Seoul, and I sort of don't know what to do."

"Look, I don't know how your friends of this time were, but I think those of now won't believe him, no" — Jisung had already seen Jade in anger and didn't want to see again so soon, neither Changbin. — "And you can count on us all to hit this guy. I'm not worth much, but I know how to curse."

Jinah opened another smile, this time wider than the previous one. She knew she wasn't alone and that the only thing that made her so apprehensive was the trauma of adolescence. She was an almost psychologist with psychological problems, very ironic.

The best thing to do was convince herself that Jisung and her friends were right. Things have changed a lot over the years, she was no longer that little girl who didn't know how to defend herself.

"You seem to have gone through a difficult phase," — the boy observed, aware that he had heard only the shallow part of the story, the tip of the iceberg. — "It doesn't have to be now, but, if you ever want to talk about it, I don't mind listening."

"Thank you" — Jinah didn't really want to bring the subject up at that time, but she was grateful for the offer. — "And sorry about that. You must be tired and I'm here, stuffing your head with bullshit."

"As if I've never done the same to you. Besides, it's not bullshit, it's what you feel and I'm here to listen."

You're going to kill me of love like that, fuck, Jinah thought as her eyes grew brighter. Jisung kept surprising her, it wasn't good for her health.

"If we weren't in public, I swear I'd give you a kiss right now" — as sassy as she was, she couldn't let it go.

Han smirked, enigmatic, and stood up: — "Don't be for that reason."

(a/n: i know that jinah's story with her ex hasn't yet been completely cleared up, but this will be clarified little by little. meanwhile i'll leave you guys there, grinding the knives. the good thing about the villain of the story not being an idol is that you guys can hate him as much as you want, lol. enjoy the refreshments)

[lnfours]

ace of spades | t.h [3]

summary: she’s the daughter of the biggest, baddest mobster in the world, he’s the detective hired to bring them down. but if they play their cards right, will they end up coming to an agreement or does it turn into a hunt for the other? not my gif! 

warnings: mob!au, detective!au, language, violence, a little bit of fluff in the beginning :)

words: 1.2k

masterlist | add yourself to my tagged list |  series playlist

the fact that tom was playing with your hair softly wasn’t what woke you up, it was his cell phone that disturbed the peace and quiet, causing him to curse under his breath. he rolled over quickly, grabbing the phone before answering it.

“hello?” he asked quietly, annoyance radiating through his voice. you stirred awake next to him, rolling over to face the british boy. he hummed into the phone before hanging it up, putting it back down onto the nightstand next to him.

“sorry i woke you.” he said and you shrugged, stretching under the covers. you looked up at his brown eyes, his pupils dilating as you looked in them. you couldn’t deny the fact that the boy made your heart skip a beat, but you two were opposites.

complete polar opposites.

“why did you come get me last night?” the question you had in your mind since he grabbed you off the floor finally rolling off your tongue. tom shifted, turning on his side to look at you.

“seriously, i’ve been nothing but cold to you since the moment you first walked into that house,” you felt your voice giving out as your vision blurred,”i-if i were you, i would’ve given up on me and left me to die.”

he shook his head, wiping the fallen tear from your cheek. you knew better than to think that tom would leave you to die. he knew that you weren’t what you always put off to be, knowing that deep down under the cold exterior, was a warm, soft soul.

“because,” he said,”you and i both know i’m not like that.”

“honestly, tom,” you sniffled,”i don’t deserve to be here.”

he shook his head,”don’t say that-“

“it’s true,” you protested,”i treated you like shit and here you are letting me live in your home because i have nowhere to go. i seriously am thankful for you, tom.”

he smiled softly at you,”of course, darling.”

it was now afternoon and the two of you were sitting in the living room. your laptop that tom had went to her earlier in the day in your lap, as his sat in his lap. you read through an old file your father had on his flash drive, which was everything he knew about richard.

“hey,” you mumbled,”what about this?”

tom shifted so he moved closer to you, his eyes going to your screen as he put where he was to the side. you started reading aloud,”an inside source once told me that he has a house stationed in cancún and another one in venice. he uses the one in cancún to keep the money and weapons in, as the one in venice holds more valuable items.”

“what does that mean?” he asked, looking up at you. you sighed, shrugging.

“means the file could be at the house in cancún or the one venice.”

“doesn’t he have a house here, too?” he asked.

“yeah, but he doesn’t stash anything here.”

“what if we don’t go in looking for the file.” tom suggested. you watched him, an eyebrow cocking.

“what, you wanna go in and hold an interrogation?” you asked, a chuckle falling from your lips. as tom stayed silent, your chuckle faded. you thought about the outcomes, and it seemed like the plan could work.

“you better hope this works.” you warned, shutting the laptop before tossing it onto the cushion next to you. you moved to the bedroom to change, quickly throwing on a pair of black jeans and a white shirt, slipping your leather jacket back on. you stepped into your heels, tying your hair up into a loose ponytail.

you stepped out at the same time tom did, spotting him in a white button up that had been tucked into a pair of grey dress pants. you smiled at him as he grabbed his keys, swinging them on his finger.

“ready?”

you smiled,”ready.”

the room was dim as the guard sat tied in the wooden chair, tugging at the rope that sat tight around his wrists that were behind his back. you sent him a fake frown, tapping your nails against the wood of the chair you sat in.

“not very talkative, huh?”

the man spit, the saliva hitting the floor just before your shoe,”go to hell!”

you stood up, walking towards the man as you grabbed his face into your hands,”this can all be over if you tell me where the files went.”

“you’re lucky i wasn’t the one who went in, cause i would’ve made sure you were dead.”

you ignored his statement, pressing harder on the file,”this is the last time i’m going to ask nicely. where is the file?”

the guard looked over at tom,”she your bitch now?”

tom stepped forward angrily, grabbing the guard by the collar and getting into his face. you backed up smirking to yourself as fear flashed in the man's eyes.

“talk about her like that again,” tom’s voice was strict,”and i’ll rip your tongue out. do i make myself clear?”

the man nodded,”yes-“

“now answer her question,” tom pressed,”where is the file.”

the man looked back and forth between you and tom, letting out a sigh before speaking up,”his house in cancún. i wouldn’t go there if i were you two, though. place is crawling with guards.”

“nothing we can’t handle.” you smiled, grabbing tom’s shoulder as he let the man in the chair go. you leaned forward, getting close to his face.

“thank you for not making me have to do it the hard way.” you smiled, walking away from him and out the door, it closing behind you.

the man looked at tom,”what would’ve been the hard way?”

“that’s something you and i both don’t wanna know, mate.” tom said before following you out the door and to his mustang. you sat on the hood of the car as tom walked out of the house, fishing the keys from his pocket.

you smiled at him,”ready to head to cancún?”

tom smiles, standing in front of you as he twirled his keys in his hand,”hm, never pictured going on a vacation with you.”

“well,” you shrugged,”i guess that’s what partners do.”

he smiled, noticing how you said ‘partners’.

he tossed the keys to you as they landed perfectly in your hand. you looked up at him, eyebrow cocking.

“well, partner,” he said,”mind driving us back?”

“not at all.” you smiled, getting off the hood as the two of you made your way into the car. you climbed into the front seat, feeling around the insanely well kept interior.

“ever driven one of these?” he asked as you started the car, the engine letting out a loud hum as it started up. you pressed slightly on the gas, causing it to rev the engine. tom smirked as you leaned down, putting the car in drive as you smiled.

“just sit back and be a passenger, holland.”

“yes ma’am.”

just as you were about to pull out from the house, your phone started to ring. you quickly pulled it out from your pocket before looking at the caller.

“who is it?” tom asked, taking in your worried expression.

you turned the phone to show him:

unknown caller.

tagged: @gorl-d  @xitzbrookiex @playbucky @luutaku @kathykat243 @slytherinrising @luckyplums1 @wekindadepressed @maggiekelly51 @summernykole @tomshufflepuff @behxndthemask @tsukishiromiki @i-love-superhero @scorpiostunner1027 @queensholland @lostamongstthecosmos @feeling-straange @lauren2408 @kaitlynthehuman @cutehollands @zpidey-sense @maggie-starz @heyrogers  @peterparkeroos @stephie-senpai @lol-you-thought @cutie1365 @avengersgirllorianna  @hista-girl @casualprincess77 @keithseabrook27 @tomhollandsmouthfr0g @wtfholland @dark-night-sky-99 @wowitstonystark​ @no-aaaahhhh​ @sskidizzle​ @sholla4-314​   @maggiepalma​ @awshucks-ace​ @httpmcrvel​ @peterparkers-waffles​ @casuallifexcreativesoul​ @inspiredbynewt​ @chennyetomlinson​ @pvnk-bivch​ @iaiabear​ @spidey-pal​ @lovelyh0lland​ @spicygrethan​ @woah-jess​ @embrace-themagic​ @annahollanddd​ @savethebabyseals​ @sighspidey​ @spideyyypeter​ @yourwonderbelle​  @organicmillie​ @ravynnn-12​ @nichu​ @valkyries-bi​ @superserumstark​ @iamgabriellelambert​ @utsoftie​ @laureharrier​ @mischiefmanaged49​ @paradoxparker​ @sdrecsfics​ @solarspidey​ @randomfandom3599​ @quicksoldier​ @notunlimited​ @smexylemony​ @captainbuckyy​ @ashely313-blog​ @tom-hollands-eyelash​ @slytherinholland​ @tomsobriens​ @delicately-written​ @kiggys-newblog​ @alexindahouse​ @aoonai​ @babylsn​ @musicgirl234​ @tomhollandandmarvelsworld​ @shortieminn​ @lushparkers​ @sweetenedangeltears​ @gopnista​ @jackiehollanderr​ @purple-ash27 @tomsmelanin @tsukimi-ackerman @the-queen-procrastinator @estillion14 @awkwardfangirl2014 @lovelyspidey

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Privacy - A Yoongi One Shot

Request: heyo! idk if your requests are open but i really loved the way you wrote sweet tooth and i was hoping to request a yoongi x male idol reader. maybe they’re like out in the store or something when a fan recognizes them? something like that? i really love your writing it’s so good 😊

Description: You and Yoongi have a very warm relationship. But unfortunately, they’re forced by circumstance to keep it a secret. Outings together, dates, even trips to the grocery store mean face masks and thick jackets. But what happens when the two of you get caught where you least expect it?

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Yoongi x (male) reader

Genre: Fluff, just straight fluff and a little angst if you squint

Warnings: None!

A/N: Hey guys! This request was so fun to complete, holy cow. Honestly, I loved this prompt and it was a really natural scenario. I liked it! I hope you guys enjoy it too. Ah, and a quick note: my requests are actually super closed! Haha, they have been for a few months, but I’ve been getting a few in my inbox. The ones I’ve received up until now, I’ll definitely complete within the next few weeks, but I’m not taking any more requests for the time being! Thank you for your patience and understanding! Love you guys~

- Mercury

It hadn’t been long since you and Yoongi started seeing each other. Just shy of five months. For normal people, that was plenty long enough to get serious. But not quite for you. Couples in the industry weren’t nearly as rare as the media thought, but nonetheless a same-sex couple was big news around your contemporaries. Nobody particularly minded, of course. Yoongi had said on numerous occasions that gender was never an issue in love, and you’d been rather vocal about your crush on him during interviews. Once word got around to your fellow idols, you’d received an outpouring of support.

But with it, came an outpouring of warnings.

You could still distinctly remember that text from Jackson.

Hey! Congratulations on your relationship! I always knew you guys had a thing for each other lol. A word of advice though, from a veteran…don’t let the fans know. Not everyone is as accepting as we are.

Of course, you understood his point. Not only was your group rather new, but you were only just gaining momentum with the public. Each new MV marked a significant increase in fans. Every comeback saw more faces in the audience, more people cheering for and supporting you.

Perhaps if you were a solo artist you’d have come out properly. Perhaps you would have held Yoongi’s hand proudly as you strolled through the grocery store, no masks, no baseball caps, no oversized clothes, no eyes scanning like surveillance cameras, ready to run at the slightest hint of movement. Perhaps you’d post all those couple pictures you had stored on your phone: you and Yoongi on a beach in Jeju, soaking in the sunlight, Yoongi sleeping on your lap, lashes dusting the apples of his cheeks, Yoongi silhouetted against the lavender sky. Perhaps you’d add a mushy caption, in both Korean and English like those trendy idols did.

But you didn’t have only yourself to worry about. Your group mates, four of the kindest and most hardworking boys you’d ever met, were relying on you too. And one public slip-up could be catastrophic for such a young group. Hadn’t you learned from what happened to E’Dawn and Pentagon? Hadn’t that served as a cautionary tale?

Nonetheless, as you held his hand and he read the back label of a cereal box, you couldn’t help the urge to just…scream it. Take the microphone from one of the cashiers and announce it over the PA system.

“I love Min Yoongi!” you’d shout, alarming middle-aged mothers and startling children as they chased one another through the candy aisle. “I love him and we’re dating!”

But instead you simply smiled and held his hand, your whole body warm beside him. Gently, you leaned into his side and he hummed a little. “What is it?” he asked, voice muffled through the mask.

You shook your head and sighed, resting your head against his shoulder. “Nothing, really.”

“Not nothing,” replied Yoongi, turning to face you seriously, your fingers still laced. His heavy brow was lowered and he watched you with what you were certain was a pout on his lips. “You’re thinking about something.”

You opened your mouth to protest before shutting it with a sigh and rolling the tip of your shoe into the linoleum, trying to find the words. “I’m just…thinking about us.”

“Us?” he asked, then pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t make a face like that when you think about us.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Not like that, dork,” you said, shoving the side of his head lightly and dislodging his baseball cap. Instead of picking it up, he simply stared down at you, now exposed in the middle of the grocery store. “I mean…aren’t you sick of hiding?” you asked.

He blinked at you for a moment, his brow furrowing. “We aren’t hiding,” he said, gesturing around the aisle with his free hand. “We’re out in public.”

You sighed and tugged on the top of his face mask with your finger. “What’s this then?” you asked, quirking a brow.

“It’s…a precaution,” he said, then shook his head and pulled you flush against his side, watching the rows of cereal like they held the answers. He always did that. Avoiding your eyes when he was about to say something soft. “I don’t want to put our careers in danger.”

You were quiet a moment. You’d had this conversation more times than you could count and the result was always the same. An impasse. You loved your fans, but you couldn’t quite trust them to have a good reaction. You loved each other, but you couldn’t risk your livelihood. Nothing every added up just right.

“E-excuse me?” called a small voice from beside Yoongi.

You peered out across his chest and locked eyes with a young girl, probably around middle-school age, with big brown eyes and cheeks flushed with rose. “Yes?” asked Yoongi quietly.

The girl held in her hand the black baseball cap Yoongi had dropped, her small hands clasped around the bill. She smiled gently. “Is this yours?” she asked.

Yoongi released your shoulders and bent down to retrieve his cap. You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded. “Yes,” he said, placing the hat back on his head. “Thank you for grabbing it.”

She beamed at Yoongi with the fondness of a fan and cleared her throat a little. “Um…I know this is weird, but…are you Min Yoongi?” she asked.

Yoongi’s back went rigid and he spared a look at you. Your eyes were wide and your heart was kicking up in speed with worry. If this girl knew Yoongi, she might say something about him grocery shopping with a guy. She might have even saw the two of you embracing. But…why did she look so happy?

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck and nodded his head slowly. “Yeah…,” he said, his voice revealing his worry.

The girl clapped her hands and grinned. “I knew it!”

She laughed a little and glanced over her shoulder down the aisle. Only then did you notice another, slightly older girl lingering at the end cap by the bread. She stiffened when she noticed you staring and you thought she might run.

“Hyejin!” called the younger girl, waving her hand excitedly. “I told you! It’s Yoongi and Y/N!”

Yoongi jumped a little and turned to stare at you with round eyes. “U-uh-,” you began, but before you could say anything, the older girl was running down the aisle to join the first and both of them looked up at you as if you had stars in your eyes. “Hello,” you said with a curt bow.

The girls giggled. “You’re my favorite member!” blurted the older girl, Hyejin. She glanced between you and Yoongi and smiled brightly. “I had a feeling you two were dating.”

You stiffened and stared at her, pulling down your face mask and shaking your head. “O-oh, no, uh…we’re not! We’re just-,”

“You’re right,” said Yoongi, pulling his own face mask down to reveal a soft, knowing smile. He turned his tender eyes toward the girl and she blushed. “We’re buying ingredients for dinner tonight. Do you have any recommendations?”

The girl gaped before nodding her head furiously. “I know how to make a really good carbonara!”

The younger girl approached you with a grin, holding out her phone to you with trembling hands. “C-Could I get a picture with you?” she asked gently.

You blinked at it, then looked at Yoongi whose hand had been seized in the older girl’s grip, guiding him down the aisle toward the pasta. You then turned back to the girl and a shy smile crept across your lips. “Um…sure,” you said, taking it from her hands and bending slightly to match her height.

You took a few photos together until the girl found one she liked. “Oh! I’m Mijin by the way,” she said with a smile. “I’m a really, really huge fan! My sister too,” she said, then turned down the aisle to see Hyejin talking animatedly about pasta. She laughed. “Sorry she stole your boyfriend.”

You flushed and rubbed your hands together. Nervous habit. “Ah…s-she can have him. Nobody knows it, and he’d die if he knew I told you, but he makes super bad puns at home.”

She glanced at you slyly and gave you a smirk. “Really?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and put on an exhausted expression, sighing. “Which country's capital has the fastest-growing population?” you asked.

She giggled. “Hm,” she began, then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Ireland,” you said, eyeing her. “Every day it’s Dublin.”

Mijin let out a rapturous laugh that captured her sister’s attention. The girl rushed back to us and glanced between us with narrowed eyes. “Did she tell you something embarrassing about me?” she asked.

Yoongi approached at a leisurely pace, smiling. “No! Something embarrassing about Yoongi,” said Mijin, still fighting off laughter.

Yoongi cocked a brow and crossed his arms. “Oh?”

You glanced away, scratching your jaw, and whistled a little. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Yoongi flicked your forehead and the two of you chuckled. Lingering quietly beside you, the two girls exchanged loaded glances. Suddenly, you worried that you’d been too affectionate with Yoongi. Were these two not so accepting after all? Was it really just like Jackson said? You felt your stomach go cold and you watched your hands as they clasped the grocery basket, knuckles straining against your skin. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself for whatever onslaught of anger you’d face.

But, to your surprise, Hyejin simply cleared her throat and rocked back and forth on her heels, a bashful flush in her cheeks. “Um…Y/N?” she asked quietly, standing close to your side.

“Yes?” you managed to choke out, your nerves suffocating.

She scratched her arm and quietly handed you her phone. “Could…could I also get a picture?”

You stiffened and glanced between Hyejin’s downcast eyes and her pale, outstretched hand. “Uh,” you began, then shook your head, returning to your senses with a smile. “Of course.”

She beamed up at you and giggled as she took her spot beside you, holding up a V sign. “Wait!” called Mijin, grabbing Yoongi by the thick sleeve of his black sweater. “Let’s get a group selfie!”

You paused for a moment as Yoongi came to stand behind you. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your heart raced as you strained your neck to meet his smiling eyes.

“Yoongi-,” you began.

But he simply silenced you with a peck to your cheek. “Take the picture. I think it’ll turn out nice.”

Blushing, you obliged and snapped the shot, all four of you smiling in the deserted grocery store aisle. Once the photo was taken, Yoongi settled for simply holding your hand in his, your face masks still wrapped below your chins, revealing your faces in entirety.

Hyejin was about to speak when a shrill voice shouted from all around the large store. “Mijin! Hyejin! Come to the registers right now!” she shouted over the PA system.

You laughed a little, concealing it as a cough, and wondered just what would have happened if you’d followed through with your impulse to use the PA system yourself.

“Aw!” whined Mijin with a pout. “I wanted to stay longer.”

“Right now!” repeated the voice.

Hyejin and Mijin exchanged nervous looks before smiling brightly at the two of you. “We gotta go,” said Hyejin gently as Mijin began jogging in place. “Th-thank you guys for taking the pictures.”

You smiled and patted her head. “Thank you for being our fans,” you said.

She smiled. “Is…um…is it okay if I post it? All of my friends would be so excited,” she said, her eyes round and expectant.

You were about to adamantly refuse, mindful not to allow this breach to spread further, but Yoongi beat you to it. “Please do,” he said, then draped an arm over your shoulders. “And tag us.”

The girls giggled and agreed to Yoongi’s request before running off down the aisle, waving over their shoulders before disappearing. Quickly, you threw Yoongi’s arm off of you and shot him a glare.

“Min Yoongi, do you realize what you just did?” you asked.

He laughed a little, the gummy kind, and shrugged. “Is it so wrong to be proud of my boyfriend?”

You stiffened, struggling to maintain your resolve, and coughed a little, crossing your arms. “Still…what if it turns out bad?”

Yoongi laughed a little, gently cupping your face in his warm hands. “What if it doesn’t?”

The simplicity in his words disarmed you and you could do nothing but stand still, flushed, as his thumbs traced circles into your skin. Without a word, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. It was a chaste kiss. The kind you’d wanted to do a million times on your late-night dates to the park, your covert coffee-shop trysts, your early morning walks through the city. The kind you saw couples do every day. His lips were soft and gentle, and revealed the quiet intensity that made you fall for him in the first place.

You sighed into him as he slowly broke away, leaning back to give you a grin. “And besides, that Hyejin girl has a crush on you,” he said with a wink. “Gotta keep my competition in line.”

“Yoongi!” you shouted, giving his chest a big smack.

But there was no malice in it. And as you two continued shopping, masks forgotten, smiling freely, you knew that whatever was to come you could face it together. As cliche as it seemed, you knew that your feelings for each other were strong enough to withstand outside pressure. Your companies would have your heads on a silver platter. Your group mates would give you endless lectures. You may have an army of Yoongi stans checking you out and sizing you up.

But you knew one thing for sure: if Mijin and Hyejin were anything to go by, you could both trust your fans.

And more than anything, you could both trust each other to weather the consequences, whatever they may be.

[crimes-and-gelato]

Only Half a Blue Sky (Chapter 5)

Rating: M

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes

Chapter Title: One More Shiny Memory

A/N:Just so you know I'm not late, it's still Wednesday here in Spain. :)As always, thank you to my lovely beta 12AngelOfDarkness21, who continues to be patient with me. (As always, remaining mistakes are mine)And also, thank you to you if you're still here. Thank you for staying, and I hope you're loving it so far. I may also have introduced an additional character. Please welcome them with open arms, they are lovely. LOL! The chapter title is from Save the Last Goodbye (Union J).

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'Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.’ - Stephen King

**

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It’s not unusual that the late morning after the gala is a quiet one in the Avenger’s Tower, with how exhausting they all find it to look all normal and happy, to hide their personal demons and put on angelic masks. In short, it’s tough to try and be liked. Not to mention that they had to scout for any information regarding the missing sceptre after HYDRA’s fall from SHIELD.

Even for a spy like Natasha, bluffing through the night amongst important and powerful people is a chore. Her years of slipping from one persona to another have helped her, but has never numbed her of the exhaustion of feeling used and filthy. It still makes her want to crawl out of her skin. Only this time she’s not alone, she has her family she can rely on if she ever slips, because while she’s good — the best — she’s not perfect.

Steve’s making some late breakfast for everyone, because he’s reliable like that. It’s probably brunch already with how it’s almost into the afternoon. Nonetheless, bacon and Steve’s pancakes are amazing at any time of the day. It looks like Clint’s already done with his first plate and is eager for the next batch.

She takes the empty seat next to Clint at the breakfast bar, and sips at the coffee the archer had prepared for her.

Bruce is nowhere to be seen, probably back in his lab or still asleep. Thor’s back in Asgard since last week for an annual check-up on Earth’s Alien Invasion status, and for some query about the sceptre and how to find it. Tony didn’t return home with them last night, and according to JARVIS he’s with Bruce Wayne.

She only raises an eyebrow at the AI’s news of the genius’ whereabouts. She’ll try to subtly ask later if those two had finally decided to act on everyone’s excited pairing of them. Or they could have discovered that they’re actually soulmates, after all this time of dancing around each other. It’s not far-fetched that they could be mates, they’re both almost alike.

But there’s also that thing between Tony and two certain super soldiers. And right now, one of the super soldier is glaring at his Starkpad like it announced another HYDRA take over.

James’ scowl is on full murder mode right now, and she truly believes someone will get stabbed if she doesn’t do anything about it. Well, maybe not her because Steve can probably calm his soulmate so no one has to bleed, or miss an important body part.

‘Oh my god, Steve, you’re a lifesaver,’ Sam exclaims happily as he enters the kitchen, sniffing the delicious aroma of pancakes and fried bacon. ‘And who in hell killed your dog, Barnes?’ he asks when he sees James’ face.

James turns the glare on Sam, and Natasha can almost feel the way the black man’s heart stops beating for two seconds upon confronting the deadly eyes of James, though they more likely belong to the Winter Soldier. So far they haven’t had any episodes regarding the Soldier with James’ slowly easing into therapy with the help of Princess Shuri’s technology. But it doesn’t mean that it can’t happen.

‘Buck?’ Steve’s suddenly there beside James, full of concern with pancakes forgotten.

‘Nothing,’ James replies brusquely and closes his pad. And suddenly, as if he remembers logic, his face sheds off the Winter Soldier glare and morphs into a composed mask. It’s crazy to see the immediate switch of persona on someone other than herself. ‘I just remembered some bad things,’ he explains, but Natasha can tell he’s lying. Only a liar knows another liar.

‘Maybe you need more rest, Buck,’ Steve offers, oblivious to James’ lie.

It piques Natasha’s interest. What could be James covering up that he’s using his bad memories as a lie, when it’s usually the bad memories that he hides behind another lie? What is James hiding from Steve?

‘Coffee,’ Tony cries out as he walks out of the lift and into the common room, his voice reaching the kitchen. He beelines for the kitchen and drapes himself all over Clint. ‘Birdman, I need Jove’s sweet nectar of life.’

Clint only chuckles and shuffles Tony so the genius is on his lap instead. ‘Here you go, lover boy,’ he teases and brings his own cup to Tony’s eager hands. The two have the same taste in coffee, apparently. Both put too much sugar than necessary.

Tony lets out a quiet, satisfied moan at the first sip. He sighs happily and takes another two sips that are followed by those low sensual sounds. The archer only chuckles fondly at Tony’s reaction, gripping the genius more firmly by the waist so he doesn’t slip. Two certain super soldiers look bothered by the scene, Natasha notices.

‘Better?’ Clint asks fondly as Tony leans further into his body. The genius doesn’t bother a verbal reply, rather nods and takes another sip of his coveted drink. ‘You look like a zombie, Stark.’ And that’s true, there’s a light darkening under the engineer’s eyes, effect of poor sleeping hours or — Natasha thinks — no sleep at all.

Tony only yawns and pushes his — Clint’s — mug in mute demand for more coffee, which the archer obliges because he has a soft spot for Tony and coffee. Natasha should probably tell his other best friend to stop rationing the genius caffeine because the brunet clearly needs sleep, rather than more reason to be awake. And she will, after Tony finishes the second cup, the only way to stop him from whining irrationally about the lack of his beloved caffeine.

‘What have you been up to last night?’ The innuendo is clear because Clint is a shameless person like that.

There’s a quiet crack of something at the head of the breakfast bar where James is quietly sat with Steve standing beside him.

Tony takes three more huge gulp of his coffee before he answers, ‘I was up all night, if it’s not obvious with you yet, Katniss.’ He takes another swig of his drink, completely clueless to the low sound of more cracking from the super soldiers’ part of the room.

‘Did you get some ?’ Clint asks teasingly.

Natasha wants to stop him, but is far too curious to know what did commence between Tony and Wayne. And at the same time, curious with how both James and Steve would react. Especially the former.

‘I don’t know what you’re trying to presume, Legolas,’ the genius tells the archer innocently. He puts his empty cup on the table and rises from his seat. He stretches, wrinkling his suit further, which already looks efficiently rumpled. ‘But as far as last night’s happening is concerned, all I can say is that I’m sore as fuck.’  

There’s a loud crash. James’ chair clatters to the floor from the force of him abruptly standing up and exiting the communal kitchen. Natasha doesn’t miss the anger — perhaps jealousy — etched on his handsome face that he tried to hide by going away.

She turns to Steve, who looks shocked by James’ sudden departure. But then Steve’s blue eyes are back on Tony’s, who’s also surprised. There’s something like hurt in their Captain’s face as he tries very hard to school into something else other than wounded.

‘What’s up with Terminator?’ Tony turns to Steve with his question.

Steve looks away from Tony’s curious eyes, grooming his expression further to hide whatever trail of upset is left on his face. He stares with concern at where James had exited. He runs a hand over his face and says, ‘Rough morning.’

Tony doesn’t push for more information even when he looks just as worried as Steve.

**

**

Bucky needs to rein in his emotions. He tries to. Very hard. But it’s difficult when he knows Tony is supposedly his. Not that questionable Wayne guy that keeps showing up with Tony to important business meetings and company events.

It’s only been a week, but it feels longer than seven days. A week of pure torture of denying himself from seeing Tony personally but stalking the man online, reading every gossip site and all those blogs about IronBat shipment by zealous fangirls and tabloids alike. He’s also drawn away from Steve because he’s afraid he’ll slip and tell his soulmate the truth. And he can’t.

He doesn’t want to push his inner turmoil onto Steve’s plate when the blond’s already dealing with so much work regarding the secret HYDRA base they still haven’t found. He’s heard that Thor already went to Asgard to seek more help, because unfortunately they could be dealing with a magical stone that’s been keeping HYDRA hidden from any advanced technology that Tony had invented or had taken hold of.

Sasha, his therapist, is unhappy about his progress that week. She doesn’t say she’s disappointed with him about his lack of communication with his soulmate on important matters that’s bothering him, but he silently feels it nonetheless. Or maybe she’s not, but the demons in his head tell him that she is.

He’s sleeping less too, which shows on his face despite his best effort to do all normal tasks so Steve doesn’t worry about him more. He showers every day, shaves his stubble so he doesn’t look like a depressed hobo, eats three meals a day, drinks the tea Bruce suggests. But it’s all a façade, when deep down he’s slowly rotting in the hell hole that he’s dug himself.

‘Shield family, I am back,’ Thor announces loudly and cheerfully as he steps into the communal living room.

‘Welcome back, Mr. Odinson,’ JARVIS greets back before Bucky could say anything, because his eyes are glued to the person following the god of thunder. ‘And I can’t say the same for you, Mr. Laufeyson.’

Bucky’s never heard JARVIS be unkind to anyone; the AI is always gentle, and maybe sarcastic and sassy like his creator at some instance. There must be some rational explanation to it because Bucky himself doesn’t like Thor’s companion one bit. The other alien, dressed in green and black leather, unsettles him and the Winter Soldier in him classifies the alien as a threat.

‘I see that Anthony still hasn’t taught his servant manners,’ the alien god asserts amusedly. ‘I may have a word with your master when I see him, valet.’ He smirks mischievously.

And Bucky doesn’t like how the new god is talking to JARVIS, or how he says Tony’s name. He wants to threaten this newcomer to stop acting like he owns the place and the people in it.

‘Loki,’ Thor warns, which the other ignores as he gracefully walks into the room with an air of self-importance.

Ah, so this is the infamous Loki: adopted brother of Thor and the person who caused the alien invasion. No wonder the god looks familiar. And no wonder Bucky dislikes him.

‘Look. Anthony managed to recruit another super soldier,’ Loki states, staring curiously at Bucky, who was trying to suffer silently in the living room while watching MasterChef Junior US .

Bucky’s just about to tell the god of mischief that he should keep Tony’s name out of his mouth or else, when the elevator door suddenly opens and strides in Tony dressed in a snugly fit black tank top and worn out jeans. The arc reactor’s light sipping through the thin material that Tony doesn’t usually wear in public, or around people.

Tony’s still self-conscious about the reactor when Bucky sees it as a blessing, without it he won’t have smart-mouth, kind, and beautiful Tony Stark in his life. And fuck does that tank top leaves so little to the imagination. He can literally make out the genius’ nipples.

Damn it, Barnes, he chastises himself. Keep it in your pants.

‘And I see how prison still hasn’t taught you manners as well, Reindeer Games,’ the genius retorts back for Loki’s earlier comment to JARVIS. The alien god glares at Tony. ‘Pop Tarts.’ He nods at Thor.

‘Hello, friend Anthony.’ Thor puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

‘You should have sent a raven ahead to announce that you won’t be coming back alone, Point Break,’ Tony says to Thor but his eyes are on Loki, who doesn’t look annoyed anymore from Tony’s prison comment.

‘And ruin the surprise for you, dear Anthony?’ retorts the god of mischief, smirking at Tony. He arranges his clothes as he takes a fluid sit on the couch. ‘Besides, we all know that you’ve silently been missing me.’

Maybe Steve won’t scold him if he punches Loki in his smug face. Bucky’s never seen anyone who is so full of themselves. Sure, Thor is a confident fella, but Loki’s beyond vanity. The god parades around like a peacock, and Bucky’s disgusted.

‘After throwing me out of my own building window?’ Tony huffs.

‘Oh, you can’t be mad about that, Anthony,’ Loki purrs — fucking purrs — with his eyes twinkling impishly at Tony as he leans comfortably on the sofa like it’s a throne rather than an over expensive couch. ‘I’ve already apologised for that.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Besides, me thinks you rather like it rough.’ Another devious smile, and a lewd lick of his lips.

It’s too late to stop the growl that rumbles from Bucky at the mixture of anger and possessiveness in his chest while listening to the conversation. Anger for knowing that this alien god had hurt Tony in the past, and possessiveness at the blasé flirting Loki’s doing.

Three pair of curious eyes are on Bucky and he lowers his gaze in embarrassment.

‘Why don’t we proceed to the part where you’re useful, Rock of Ages?’ Tony suggests. And Bucky is silently thankful to the genius for the evasive manoeuvre.

‘Good thinking, friend Anthony,’ Thor agrees.

He looks up from where he’s trying to avoid everyone’s stare, only to detect that Loki’s eyeing him with interest that Bucky wants to challenge or run away from. He’s not sure which one to do. Instead, he glares at Loki with his best Winter Soldier glower.

And because Loki must also be the god of chaos, instead of fearing like mere mortals do at the sight of the Winter Soldier, the god only grins with mirth. Bucky doesn’t like it. At all .

**

**

After his encounter with the crazy god of mischief, Bucky reports it to Steve because he needs a logical reason to not murder the god in his sleep. It’ll be hard to do but he’s willing to try. Especially when he doesn’t feel even an inch of comfort towards the new Asgardian.

‘They’re going to the Avenger’s Compound tomorrow with Thor,’ he informs Steve, who’s halfway across the world with Natasha and Clint on some recon.

Steve frowns but doesn’t say anything. Bucky can tell the blond’s thinking.

‘Will you come with them tomorrow, Buck?’ he asks. ‘Loki’s not trustworthy, despite what Thor says, because he’s bias when it comes to his little brother.’ Steve lets out a sigh. ‘Just so Tony has another eye to keep out on him in case Loki tries something.’

‘Sure, Stevie.’ He nods and doesn’t add that he already planned on going with the trio tomorrow at the compound even if Steve hasn’t asked him because like the blond, he also doesn’t trust Loki to behave. And if something out of hand happens, Tony’s only human without the suit — a fragile human that could easily get hurt.

‘How are you doing, Buck?’ The tense tone is replaced by a softer one. Worried, too.

‘I’m doing okay, punk.’ He offers Steve a small smile that the blond mirrors. ‘I miss you though.’

Steve nods solemnly. ‘I miss you too, jerk.’

And their nicknames are suppose to make them feel elated or amused. But not this time. Not when Steve’s thousand of miles away, and loneliness envelops him like a goddamn blanket. It’s never the same without Steve. It never has and it never will.

How did Steve survive when he thought Bucky was dead? Bucky can’t even stand the light aching that tends to follow him around when Steve’s away for missions.

‘Just one more day, honey.’ And for a second Steve looks like he’s about to pull Bucky through the screen and rub a soothing hand down his back. ‘One more.’

‘One more day,’ he mutters back like an assurance to himself. Maybe to Steve as well. He’s not sure who needed it the most between the two of them. But it’s motivation enough.

‘I gotta go now, Buck.’ There’s a displeased frown on Steve’s lips. ‘I’ll see you soon, yeah?’

Bucky only nods, not trusting he won’t cry and beg Steve to return if he uses his voice.

The call disconnects but Bucky continues to stare at the dark screen like he’s waiting for Steve to come back on. Or better, to come knocking on their apartment door.

He’s not sure how many minutes he stayed like that. But after some time he pulls himself out of his head space and formulates plans and tactics to keep Tony safe from the annoying god of mischief.

**

**

To say that he’s annoyed and jealous is an understatement. Bucky is shaking with envy and anger. How can he not when not only he has to keep his eye on Loki, but he also has to watch Bruce fucking Wayne flirt with Tony.

It’s not much of flirting and there are no casual touches, but Wayne is still staring at Tony when the genius isn’t looking and Bucky doesn’t appreciate it. Especially not when they whisper among themselves and Wayne makes Tony laugh.

Why did he even read all those gossip blogs about Wayne and Tony’s blossoming relationship? He’s been trying to deny those articles. Steve did tell him not to believe most of what’s written online unless they have concrete proof.

But what more proof does Bucky need to prove the gossip true when Tony looks like he’s enjoying talking to Wayne. They’re both people of the same calibre: smart and rich. They came from the same world. And Bucky’s known before that Tony deserves someone better than him, someone not broken. Someone stable who doesn’t have enough skeletons in his closet to call it a cemetery.

The two are actually perfect for each other. But still… Tony is his soulmate. His . Not Wayne’s.

He has Steve though. Glorious Steve Rogers that Bucky doesn’t deserve too. And maybe this is how the universe is teaching him patience, teaching him humility. How he’s not suppose to be greedy when he’s already been given more than his worth.

And Tony, he doesn’t deserve the half that Bucky’s offering. Tony deserves a whole fucking heart who will love him fully without someone else to share. So, Bucky has to endure. He needs to tolerate Wayne.

‘You do know you’re staring, right?’ Loki informs from across the room with a book in his lap.

They’re both outside Fury’s office. Wayne, Tony, and Thor are inside to talk with the Director about their plan to locate some magical sceptre that’s very important. Steve’s included in the meeting, he’s on a hologram screen. Bucky can still see them from the outside through the glass wall.

‘Well, it’s not like it’s easy not to stare, eh?’ Loki leans forward from his seat, discarding the book on the cushion. ‘Anthony’s a lovely thing to behold,’ he continues when Bucky chooses to ignore him. ‘But… isn’t he out of your league, soldier? Especially when you’re already bound to another.’

Bucky can’t help the glare he throws at Loki, despite telling himself that he shouldn’t let the god get under his skin. But damn it, the bastard’s good at pushing people’s button.

Loki crosses his leg while a sneer paints his lips. ‘Greedy little thing, aren’t you?’

And that aches, hearing it out loud from someone else’s lips because deep down that is the truth. But truth or not, it doesn’t stop his hands from clenching into fists with Loki’s piercing remark. For fuck sake, just one punch.

‘It’s none of your business,’ Bucky spits acidly.

‘Oh, but it is.’ There’s a sharpness in his eyes that isn’t there a while ago. ‘You see, dear soldier, I’m not overly fond of Midgardians. But Anthony’s quite useful and interesting. I would very much hate to come back and find him being none of those two.’ He smiles at Bucky, but it’s vile and threatening.

And before Bucky would ask what Loki means by that, or maybe threaten the god of mischief back as well, the three men exit Fury’s office.

‘Guess we’ll have to drop snowflake before we head out.’ Tony eyes him. ‘FRIDAY?’

‘Yes, boss?’ the female-voiced AI answers.

‘Alert Bruciebear of his unexpected pick-up by Capsicle, would you, darling?’ He’s typing on his phone in a rapid manner. ‘And inform Pepper to clear my schedule for the next seven days. At least.’

‘I have alerted Dr. Banner of Captain Roger’s ETA in South Korea,’ FRIDAY announced.

‘Good girl.’ The genius beams proudly. He pockets his phone. ‘Gentlemen, shall we? We don’t have much time to spare.’

They all followed him to the hallway. Their party marches the maze-like hallways with Tony in the lead. Wayne right next to the genius which Bucky doesn’t like. But it’s much better than Loki near Tony because that won’t do any good for Bucky’s heart and peace of mind.

Thor and Loki are behind him, he made sure he placed himself as barrier between Tony and the threatening god. Whatever it was the god of mischief is spouting he shouldn’t believe any of that bullshit.

‘FRIDAY, sweetie? Tell your older brother we are arriving at the tower to drop off Cyborg, yeah?’

They’ve reach a door at the end of the hallway. And once it opens, it leads to a massive hangar that houses different fighter planes and a quinjet.

‘Done, boss.’

‘Thanks, FRI.’

‘Anytime, boss.’

In Bucky’s ear, FRIDAY sounded please to help which is almost human. Another proof how Tony’s creations are as brilliant as he is.

They board the jet and Tony takes the pilot seat.

‘This is a new one so JARVIS isn’t installed to this yet,’ Tony explains to Wayne, who takes the co-pilot sit. ‘But since it stays in the Avengers HQ, I’m thinking that maybe FRIDAY is a much better choice since she’s the one running the programs there, and JARVIS is on SI and the tower.’

‘I’ve always admired at your AIs, Stark,’ Wayne comments.

Tony scoffs. ‘Is this the closest you’ll ever to admitting that I am smarter than you?’

‘And you know I won’t give you the answer that you seek.’ Wayne smiles amusedly.

‘Where are you guys heading?’ Bucky inserts, weary of hearing Wayne flirt with Tony. He’s more afraid someone might get hurt. Probably, him. ‘And why need the whole Avengers?’

‘We’re heading to Sokovia,’ Tony answers. ‘Bruce here has information that the sceptre could be there. We’re going to set up camp and wait, while Thuderbolt and Rock of Ages will scout for the sceptre’s magical energy.’ Tony grimaces at the magical word, still a hard man of science. ‘That’ll be easier than try to create an equipment with my Science Bro. It saves time.’

‘Do you need me to help you?’ Sometimes it gets harder to be left behind while his soulmate — soulmate s — are in the line of danger and he won’t be there to watch their backs.

‘You can sit this one out, Robocop,’ Tony assures him. ‘We’re not entirely sure it’s there.’

‘It’s there,’ Wayne insists. ‘You have to put some trust on me, Tony.’

‘But he’s coming,’ Bucky spats, the words sounding close to jealousy.

For the first time, Wayne looks at him with analysing eyes. ‘Yes, because I’m their ticket to get into the main city and their contact with the politician to make sure the people can evacuate when it calls for it.’

‘And Steve?’ he asks instead of punching Wayne and his usefulness. Maybe Bucky’s just imagining that smug look on the other man’s face.

‘America’s Sweetheart is going to meet us there with Brucie, Widow, and Legolas.’ Tony’s manoeuvring them on the landing pad.

‘I don’t like it.’ Sure, he’s not fine with Wayne being around, but there’s something else about the set-up that’s bothering him. ‘Why can’t I go? Just for back-up.’

They have safely landed and Tony swivels his pilot chair to face Bucky. He looks worriedly at Thor, as if he’s asking the god of thunder to answer the question instead of him. The genius had never been great with confrontation, and Bucky feels like this moment of truth will only bring him pain.

‘We also have other information,’ Tony starts, ‘that it might be a HYDRA base.’

HYDRA. Once again the cause of Bucky’s unending nightmares are back to haunt him some more. And after failing Project Insight, they managed to steal a magical item to help them gain power again. Christ! Cut one head and two more grows back, right?

‘And Steve thinks you’re not ready for this yet,’ Tony finishes, looking everywhere but Bucky.

‘The whole team had agreed to this, friend James,’ Thor adds, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. ‘We want you to be safe.’

And the voices in the back of Bucky’s head are saying something different. It’s not that they want him safe. But it’s for them to be safe… from him. Him, who is a monster — a killer. Why did he even think he’ll be able to watch his friends’ back when they should all watch out for him?

‘Barnes, stop.’

There’s another hand on him, cupping the side of his neck. It’s a smaller hand with callous palm. It’s also a warm hand that feels great against his skin. He leans to the touch instinctively because it screams: safe.

‘Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s not it,’ Tony says, looking him dead in the eyes.

It’s Tony’s hand, Bucky notices a few seconds later. Tony’s touching him and it feels wonderful. He wants to stay in this moment forever with Tony gently massaging him in assurance.

‘It’s not safe for you to be around those assholes who abused you.’ His voice turns sharp, but continues to be soothing. ‘And I can see that you’re not ready to face your demons.’ His other hand reaches for Bucky’s clenched fist. When did that happen? ‘You don’t have to put on a brave face, snowflake. It’s okay to be not ready to face your demons… Trust me, I know.’

And there’s no room for argument with that. Not when the blatant evidence of Bucky’s terror about HYDRA is clear as a day. This is also for the best, even when he’s not one hundred percent okay with it.

**

**

To compensate his lack of participation, he tries to monitor Tony’s thermal signature via a satellite that JARVIS has hacked. He wants to keep an eye out for the genius since Steve and the rest hasn’t arrived at Sokovia yet, still stuck in Brazil somehow.

Thor and Loki have left to scout for the sceptre’s energy while Tony and Wayne set up a rendezvous point for their team.

DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers keep him company with his watch. He plays fetch with them at some point, and they might have caused a bit of a mess in the lab that he promises to tidy up before Tony arrives back.

He’s been keeping vigil for the last seven hours since the group has arrived in Sokovia. And now he’s hungry. But he doesn’t even want to blink in case he misses something significant. He wishes Steve and his group would hurry up and get to Tony. What is taking them so long? It’s been fourteen hours since Tony’s team had left and stayed in Sokovia, and still has no Steve for back-up.

It reminds him again how Tony’s nothing but human outside his suit. What if he can’t call his suit in time before he’s attacked by HYDRA? What if Thor or Loki are too faraway to help him? Maybe the gods won’t even know that something went wrong because HYDRA goons are sneaky little shits.

And all Tony has for back-up is that rich boy, Wayne, who’s more likely only there for his pretty face and illegal influence. But other than that, Bucky doubts Wayne would be useful for anything else. Wayne won’t be able to protect Tony.

God, why is Steve taking so long? And why does Thor need to leave Tony behind with Useless Wayne? Why can’t they bring Tony along with them where he’ll be safe between two alien gods, who will probably annihilate any HYDRA minion with a snap of their fingers.

‘Sergeant Barnes?’ JARVIS calls.

Bucky looks up to the ceiling. ‘Yes, J?’

‘I’d like to advise you to eat,’ JARVIS says. ‘It’s been fourteen hours since you last ate, and according to my database this is not good for your diet.’

‘Later, J. Thanks.’ He proceeds to stare at the monitor again with Tony and Wayne talking to some trusted officials about their plan and how not to get innocent people in the line of fire in case it comes into a battle.

‘I’d like to suggest you at least partake some PowerBar that sir often stores in the lab,’ JARVIS says. ‘It’s at the bottom drawer to your right.’

Bucky obeys if it’ll get JARVIS off his back. Besides he thinks JARVIS has some protocol about his diet that Steve might have installed just to monitor him while he’s recovering. It’s handy because he’s still not use to eating at normal people pace, since during his Winter Soldier days he only eats when it’s necessary for his mission. He can last three days without food with his super soldier metabolism.

He takes out five of the milk chocolate brownie snack and continues his vigil. He easily finishes two of it in less than a minute.

Tony and Bruce with some people — probably officials and soldiers — are heading north-west. Their caravan weaves through a frosty forest just a few kilometres from the main city.

And that’s when shit hits the fan.

The third PowerBar he’s opening falls to the floor as he watches an explosion happen within Tony’s group.

‘Fuck!’ His heart pounds in his chest as he witness the horror in the screen. Tony’s heat signature goes missing in the midst of the explosion. ‘JARVIS, tell Thor to get Tony,’ he says sharply.

‘He has been informed, Sergeant.’ There’s a masked fear in JARVIS robotic voice as well.

‘Tony!’ he screams, praying that he’ll hear the genius’ teasing over the comms.

‘I’m afraid, I’ve lost connection with sir.’ JARVIS’ sentence turns Bucky’s world upside down.

No! No, no, no, no. Even JARVIS can’t reach Tony.

‘Bucky, what happened?’ It’s Steve voice coming from the team comms.

‘Steve.’ Oh my god. It’s Steve. He’ll know what to do, right? He’ll tell Thor to rescue Tony. ‘Stevie, Tony’s caravan… there’s an… there’s an explosion.’ He sounds erratic and nervous and angry. ‘Please tell Thor to check on him.’

There’s a sharp intake of breathe in Steve’s end. And Bucky wants to ask why, but JARVIS answers his inquiry by showing him Thor and Loki’s location. They have been moving opposite Tony’s position. And they are far away. So far away that even with Thor’s flying he won’t make it in time to back Tony up.

And as a soldier, Bucky knows that every second counts on these instances. Six seconds is a huge time for Tony to get shot with his lack of armour or back-up.

Why are Thor and Loki that far away? Why did the trail of the sceptre go the opposite direction of Tony’s caravan? And where was Tony’s group heading that they had to go through some remote cold forest?

‘Sergeant Barnes?’ It’s JARVIS but he sounds so distant like some muffled background noise. ‘Sergeant Barnes?’

God, why is this all happening? Why Tony? If they got him… Jesus, he doesn’t want to imagine it. The chair. The cold cell. The harsh medical hands. The hard lab table. The painful injections. The drugs.

‘Sergeant Barnes?’

He exits the lab, and discards the comm. With shaky legs he runs as far as possible from the screen that still streams the passing chaos. He needs to take off and hide from the painful truth of Tony dy—

No, he can’t finish that thought. And he’s not even sure which is the worst case scenario anymore: his first theory or the second one.

Maybe if he doesn’t face it, if he can get as much distance as he can from the computer monitor, then none of it is real. This can all be some wicked nightmare and he’ll wake up with Tony still safely in the tower about to call him those stupid names that Bucky doesn’t get the reference to at times.

Please , he mutely begs whatever higher power is listening to him. Keep him safe. Please, keep him safe . Please.

‘Sergeant Barnes?’ It’s JARVIS again. He sounds more insistent this time but still hazy.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This is all Bucky’s fault! He should have gone with Tony. He should have insisted to come along. If he had Tony wouldn’t be… Tony wouldn’t be…

And now, it could be too late.

He feels like screaming. Maybe he has been because his throat feels raw and used and painful. But the pain is nothing compared to the ache that blooms in his chest like it’s on fire, like it’s been cracked open. He lets his anguish swallow him whole in its cold, aching embrace as he crashes to the floor in body-trembling sobs for someone he’d probably lost.

**

[hellas-himself]

Where There Are Shadows Pt 21

Writing has been difficult for me lately. Not so much this but with my personal endeavors. I’ve also become highly addicted to Dragon Age lol

But writing this helps me clear my head so I can get shit done. Idk 

I can’t believe it’s Thursday already. 

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-Feyre-

 Lucien pressed a kiss to the inner part of my thigh before he came to lay down beside me. I turned to face him, bringing a hand out to touch his face. I was still trying to catch my breath and he smiled.

“I was supposed to be cheering you up,” I said softly.

He chuckled. “At your side, or between your legs, rather- I am as happy as I can be.”

I playfully pushed him by the shoulder and he laughed, pulling me close to him.

“Luce, really. How can I be there for you?”

He kissed my nose. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“When Rhys comes home, we’ll have more answers.”

We remained silent, holding one another. Rhys had left early in the morning with Azriel, the beginnings of finding out if what that bastard had said was true. My mate was quiet down the bond, he’d wished us good morning. He’d complained about the state of his clothes. But nothing more.

“I think that I’m afraid of the answers.”

“Whatever they are, Luce, we’ll face it together.”

“Indeed we will.”

Lucien and I sat up quickly, finding Rhys at the door. He must have winnowed in but I didn’t care. I scrambled out of bed and ran to him.

“I should leave you two alone more often if this is how I’ll find you.”

“Prick.”

His arms were around me and I sighed. Then I was laughing when a very naked Lucien stood behind me to join us in our embrace.

“Join me for a bath?” Rhys asked and neither of us refused.

“Where did you go?” I asked, scrubbing Rhysand’s back as he washed Lucien’s hair.

“Illyrian camps. Cas and I had things to discuss.”

“Is everything alright?”

“It will be.”

I sighed. “And?”

He chuckled, rinsing Lucien’s hair with a cup. He enjoyed going through the motions, especially when we three were here together.

“Viviane says hello.”

“You went to Winter?”

“Az and I can’t go about spying on anyone without giving Kallias good reason for us being at the border. Well… we could, but I want him to trust me.”

“Rhys… are you sure there’s nothing I can’t do?” Lucien asked, turning around. “I know the land, I know the monstrosity of where I once lived.”

Rhys kissed him. “Soon. For now, know that Kallias and Viviane have granted us entry to their Court so as long as one of us is with them.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, taking the cup from Rhys and rinsing his back.

“It means that while Az and I are off doing whatever it is we will be doing, someone from our Court will be present before Kallias, all in good faith.”

“So, like Summer but without all the lies.”

Rhys chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Amren still has our blood rubies,” I said as Rhys turned around and pulled me so that I was now between them both. I laughed as Rhys grabbed the sponge and Lucien undid my hair.

“I can clean myself, you know.”

“Yes, but it is far more enjoyable when we do it.”

I left them both sleeping. I slipped into a pair of trousers, and over my camisole, I wore one of Lucien’s shirts unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. My hair had dried a mess thanks to those two, so I tied it up the way I did when I went to paint. I went into the kitchen and grabbed the small tin of cookies and quietly went to the living room and laid out on the sofa.

Half the tin and one chapter of a book later, a soft knock came at the door. I waited for it again before I set everything aside and went to answer it. My heart dropped a bit at the sight of Elain standing outside, fumbling with the little blue shawl over her blush pink dress. She looked at me sheepishly, and I realized we were both blushing.

“Let me find my shoes.”

I locked the door behind me after I’d found my boots, Elain waiting patiently the entire time. I hadn’t bothered to throw more perfume on, I knew Elain was aware of us being together. And to her credit, she made no comment about it the way Mor or Amren would.

“I didn’t know you knew where we were. Location wise, I mean,” I said.

“I asked Azriel.”

“Oh.”

We started to walk, away from the apartment and without a particular destination in mind. Only that we kept a good distance from others.

“Feyre, I wanted to speak to you. Alone. I know that there are things I have to discuss with Lucien. And I will. I promise. But… you’re my sister.”

I think we both avoided looking at one another.

“Alright,” I said, wondering if this was why Rhys always shoved his hands in his pockets. Because my stupid trousers had none, and I really wished they did.

“I am sorry, Feyre. I failed you as a sister, and please don’t look deny it- You have always been far too kind to me. Everyone is. I was no better than Nesta. It changes nothing… But I want to fix it.”

I sighed. “Elain… There isn’t anything to fix. I was just angry.”

The look on her face told me she didn’t believe me.

“I won’t make this about me. Or my… Well, this.” She motioned to herself, and then her ear. Being Made. “But I hope you’ll understand… I didn’t know. That I had to do anything.”

“You didn’t know that you had to be the one to break it.”

I’d stopped walking. We finally looked at on another. She was blushing.

“Letting go of Graysen… I couldn’t find it in me to care about anything else. Even if it was wrong of me to do so.”

“I’m sorry, Elain. For the things I said…” She looked at me in surprise. “And I am sorry that I assumed you’d understand everything about… this.” I motioned towards the city. A life amongst the Fae. “I’m still learning.”

She giggled. “Are you?”

“Gods, there are rules and customs that I’ve yet to even discover. And to think we live in the most relaxed court in all of Prythian.”

“Goodness.” Elain adjusted her shawl. It was new, I realized.

“You wear a lot of blue these days,” I said as we began to walk again.

“It’s a lovely color. Especially for spring.”

I rolled my eyes, but I smiled. “I’ll remember that for Starfall.”

“Starfall?”

I looped my arm in hers, telling her all about the celebration.

“I think Rhys made adjustments to every dress,” I whispered as we came to a little bakery. We ordered hot chocolate and sat down to wait for our desserts.

“It amazes me that these men -males- are so… contrary to how they appear.”

I laughed. “Illyrian babies.”

“Azriel has such a way with gardening. And I know, you know, about what he does. When he isn’t home.” Her cheeks were red.

Home. I gave her a smile. Azriel found many reasons to sleep at the townhouse, especially now that Rhys and I weren’t there. He still shared the room with Cas… but I knew he preferred that than to going to his own home and staying up worried about her.

“We should get together with Mor and find you a proper Starfall gown.”

She chewed on her lower lip and I already knew what she was going to ask.

“Do you think… Would she come?”

Nesta. One mountain at a time, I reminded myself.

“I don’t know… But it wouldn’t hurt to invite her. Either way, if she goes outside that night, she’ll be looking at the same sky as us.”

Elain raised a brow. I hadn’t told her the whole truth of Starfall, I wanted her to have that surprise. And I knew that she would share that with Azriel, just as I had with Rhys.

“I suppose…”

“We can send it with a courier.”

“I like that idea.” Elain took a long sip of her hot chocolate. Nesta had pushed Elain so far away that she feared going to visit her.

“They won’t wear their leathers that night,” I blurted out and Elain nearly spit out her drink. “I mean, they’re dressed. Just not for a fight. They’re dressed like… Well, you’ll see.”

She laughed, trying to calm herself when our tray of mini cakes and cookies was set on the table.

“Oh Feyre, you’ve set the worst image in my mind. I might not be able to look at Azriel with a straight face ever again!”

“Elain! Have you-”

“No!” Her face went red. “No. But… they have no shame. Even your mate. Walking the house in nothing but a towel… The impropriety of it all.”

She looked scandalized but I had the feeling she enjoyed the sight far more than she would admit. I couldn’t blame her.

I walked her back to the townhouse, just in time to see Azriel walking down the steps. I snorted and Elain brought a hand to her mouth.

“Hello,” he said and we both started laughing. The poor thing blushed and I threw an arm around Elain, holding her against me and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” I said to her and then looked at Azriel. I gave him a smile which only seemed to deepen his blush. Elain returned the kiss and then hurried up the steps.

“You weren’t going anywhere, were you?” She asked, taking him by the hand.

“Not at all,” he replied and let her guide him back inside.

I found Rhys and Lucien having lunch when I got back. Rhys’ curls were a mess and Lucien’s long hair was in dire need of a good combing.

“Had fun while I was away?” I teased, making my way to Lucien whose back was to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“We just woke up,” Rhys said with a yawn.

I mussed up his hair before I kissed him and then took my seat between them. I noticed that they’d both tried to pretend they hadn’t scented Elain on me but I pretended not to notice.

“I had a very surprising visitor this morning,” I said as I reached for the lovely pitcher of iced tea that the twins had made thanks to Varian’s little recipe he’d given us on his last visit. Both males remained silent, suddenly their meals were very appetizing.

“Elain and I… we apologized to one another.”

“How lovely, darling,” Rhys said, patting my hand before returning to his plate.

“There are things that I think are better left for her to tell you,” I said to Lucien. “But I think that it’s going to turn out better than expected.”

His sigh of relief broke my heart.

“However,” I turned my attention to Rhys. “You and your brothers need a lesson on modesty.”

“Whatever for?” He was completely taken aback.

“There is a very big problem if Elain can you three naked.”

Lucien choked and Rhys howled, and I feared he’d fall back in his chair. But then I was laughing, too.

“I told her about Starfall. And mentioned you wouldn’t be wearing your leathers.”

Lucien snorted. “No wonder.”

“It came out wrong!”

“You’ve walked around the house naked,” Rhys said to me.

“When no one’s home but us.”

“And that time you had breakfast in a towel.”

“Elain is my sister.”

“Az and Cassian were there, too,” Rhys countered. Lucien nearly dropped his fork.

I blushed. “I was famished.”

“What is Starfall?” Lucien asked, as curious as he was eager to discontinue this discussion.

Rhysand’s eyes lit up and I had the good sense to watch quietly as my mate began to describe his idea of how we three would dress that night.

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@readingismycopingmechanism @fuzdog @gently-say-aha @highladyofherondale @alxanxah  @city-of-fae

If you would like to be tagged, let me know!!!

PS: I was a fool and didn’t jot down who asked so if I missed you/tagged you when I shouldn’t have, I am sorry. 

[pcktsprgrl]

The Freshman The Musical

Fandom: The Freshman

Pairings: Becca X MC

MC’s name = Emily

Authors Notes:  So my brain thought this up about a week ago and would not shut up until I wrote it. So here it is I hope someone enjoys this Freshman with a dash of Grease lol. It don't really seem as crazy since Becca was singing in the last chapter of the Sophomore but...

On a side note: I think pixelberry might be spying on me lol.

Enjoy ~PSG

Rating: general? I mean they make out lol

Publish Date: 2/15/18

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

You struggle with your bags and attempting to open the door to what you sincerely hope is your suite. After a few embarrassing nearly break ins. The key turns and the door swings open you stumble inside with a squeak of surprise. The door slams against the wall with a loud bang and you drop your bags at your feet. "Oh!" "AHHH!" Random voices call from various parts of the suite as three men coming running from the hallway. "Is it a robber?!" one hollers and you feel your face heating more with embarrassment. The tall blonde man rushes to your side and begins helping you with your things. "I uh.. I think this must be our missing suite mate." a smaller dark haired woman approaches to help as well. You blink at them and stammer.. "I um y-yes Em-Emily." "Well Em -Emily. Nice to finally meet you another voice calls." "Im Zack!" you smile at him and go around making introductions. When you notice a girl clicking her tongue disappointingly as she stares at the easel in front of her. You make your way over and see the large purple smudge that now covers her once perfect painting of the courtyard. "You could always make more smudges and call it abstract." you offer hopeful. She sighs and rolls her eyes but smiles at you. "Abbie." she extends her hand. Later that night you and your new friends are on the roof of your suite talking and laughing. "So, tell us about your summer." Tyler inquires. "Well" you begin, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "I kinda sorta met this girl.." you voice trails off remembering. "Oh! You're a uh.." Chris begins awkwardly then clears his throat. "I mean that's cool what was she like?" "Yeah," Abbie interjects "tell us more!" °°°°Becca's pov°°°°° You sigh as you flop backwards on your bed clutching the brightly colored seashell to your chest. Overtaken with memories of the past summer. A knock on your door startles you from your reverie. "I'm busy." you shout in annoyance through the door but when it springs open anyway you scowl and stuff the shell under your pillow. "But Becca.." the unwelcome intruder whines. "Ugh fine.." you snap. "You all would be so lost without me." you say smugly. Madison just claps happily oblivious to all but her own little world. Downstairs the sisters of the sorority are gathered in the living room chattering excitedly about the year's upcoming events. You sigh and plop down on the couch. "...so I was thinking this year we totally need to have more mixers..what do you think, Becca.. Becca?" You're startled once again. "Huh? Uh.. What were we talking about.?" you ask as you pluck at the nonexistent lint on your dress. "Honestly Becca." Katie protests scowling. "When we voted you as sorority president we had hoped.." she continues with a scowl until Madison cuts her off. "Becca, what's with you? You seem..?" Madison ponders and you try your best smile. "Just thinking about this summer." your smile widens involuntarily and you chastise yourself. (Great now they're going to be all nosey.) "Ooo is it a boy?" Katie adds excitedly. "No!" you snap at her, and hope they'll all drop it but instead their questions just get louder. You cover your ears. "Alright, fiiiine!" you shout standing abruptly from the couch and marching to the other side of the room. 'Summer loving had me a blast..' °°°°° Emily°°°° 'Summer loving happened so fast...' °°°°Becca°°°° '....Summer dreams ripped at the seams But, oh, those summer niiiiiiights' You finish smiling stupidly at the far wall. "Sounds like a blast." Madison remarks. You turn and scowl at everyone. "That's all you get." you cross your arms in defiance. °°°°Emily°°°°° ' Summer dreams ripped at the seams But, oh, those summer niiiiiiiights' You stare off the roof top and smile brightly into the night sky. "Sounds like a dream." Abbie sighs wistfully. "So, what was her name?" Kaitlyn inquires. "Becca Davenport." you answer dreamily. Everyone gasps audibly and you spin to see your suite mates glancing nervously at each other. "Well I uhh." Chris stammers the rubs at his neck. "Maybe one day you'll meet again?" Kaitlyn offers still trying to pick her jaw off the floor. "I can only hope so!" "Well look at the time, gotta go.." Tyler interjects then quickly runs from the rooftop. You furrow your brow at them but say nothing. ~~~~~~~~ You don't know how your friends talked you into it but here you are in the grandiose house of the sorority celebrating Chris's big win. It was a team effort he had insisted but you all knew what a boost he had given them all. You walk around awkwardly scowling at the pretentious girls drapped all over various members of the team. When you spot Chris he is in a similar situation and looking very uncomfortable. You frown and start to march over when you hear a familiar giggle stopping just short of their group. "Becca stop!" Chris objects and fidgets trying to extract himself. "Becca?!" you call out before you can stop yourself, causing the entire group to look at you. "I...you!" her mouth gapes and she smiles and starts approaching you before glancing at her company. She immediately schools her features, crossing her arms. "Excuse you! We're kinda in the middle of something here." she scowls. "Becca, do you know her?" the blonde to her right addresses her. Becca stops for a moment considering you. You try to smile and take a step forward but she retreats. "As if!" Becca says with a snort. Your gasp is audible and you open your mouth to say something but words fall you. You lip trembles and you swear for a moment her hand starts to reach for you but you turn and bolt out of the house.

"Tell the others I went home." you call over your shoulder to Chris as you make your way into the cool night. Hot tears sting your eyes but you blink rapidly to stop them from falling. Once in your room you break into sobs taking the photo booth photos from your desk drawer as tears run down your cheeks. °°°°Becca's POV°°°°°

You're trying to have a good time. Really you are, but you're just not in the mood for a party. Let alone all your friends pushing you to Hartfeld's latest stud quarterback. You sigh and just start mindlessly flirting with him. He seems alarmed and maybe you just lost your touch?? You're not sure, but when you find yourself mindlessly groping at his arm you feel like you might get sick. Suddenly a familiar voice comes from behind you. Your heart leaps in your chest and you swallow hard. Everything is moving in slow motion as you turn to see her standing there. A realization hits you, oh god... Had she seen that pathetic display? You start to reach for her but catch Madison looking at you strangely and so you snap back to bitch mode. Your mouth is moving but you have no idea what its saying all you can see is the hurt in her eyes the tears building. Now you definitely think you'll vomit. She storms out calling out something to Chris. Home? What did she mean? Your head is spinning. "I'm so over this lame party." you say in a huff before trudging to your room and collapsing on your bed as silent tears fall. °°°°°Emily°°°°°°

'Guess mine is not the first heart broken.'

°°°°Becca°°°° 'My eyes are not the first to cry' °°°°Emily°°°°° 'I'm not the first to know there's Just no getting over you' You sigh and tuck the line of photos in your desk drawer curling into a ball. °°°Becca°°°°° You scowl down at the seashell in your hand and are about to chuck it across the room when the door swings open. "Heard of knocking?" you scowl and Madison holds her hands up in surrender but still steps closer to you. You wipe roughly at your eyes. "I thought I made it clear. I don't want company?" Madison ignores the venomous comments and sits cautiously beside you. There's silence and you can't help fiddling absentmindedly with the seashell. "It's her, isn't it?" Madison inquires softly and you splutter. "I... what? Don't be absurd!" your frown deepens. She just sighs and shakes her head at you. "Don't take too long, Becca." she pats your knee gently and leaves without another word. ~~~

You're standing in the coffee shop typing happily at your phone when you hear a voice from behind you.

“God, are you like stalking me now?”

You spin to see Becca glaring at you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

You stammer for a moment but glare at her. “Oh because I'm in a public building, getting coffee? Please, don't flatter yourself. You're not that interesting.” You glare at her and hear your order called turning to get it.

Becca opens her mouth to say something else but you see Madison shooting her a disapproving look and she shuts her mouth without another word.

°°°°Becca°°°°

'If we could start anew, I wouldn't hesitate I'd gladly take you back, and tempt the hands of fate.'

“I'm sorry guys, I need to go...study..” you gather your things and rush out of the coffee shop before any of your friends and object.

°°°°Emily°°°°°

You stomp back to your suite and slam the front door and your bedroom door behind you.  Flopping down on the bed your coffee long forgotten on your desk.

'You don't remember me But I remember you 't was not so long ago You broke my heart in two '

~~~~

The end of the quarter dance has arrived and your friends drag you around trying to pick out a dress to get ready for the dance. You sigh and halfheartedly thumb through racks of clothes but after all the stress fighting with and trying to avoid Becca on top of all your assignments you really just want to go home. ~~~~ Kaitlyn spins you around the dance floor and you laugh despite yourself. She gathers you in her arms and dips you making you laugh harder.

"Tell me you aren't having fun?" she smiles widely at you. "Ok ok maybe a little." you laugh again as you walk to the side of the dance floor. She squeals in excitement. "Be right back! Punch time!" you smile after her as she runs off. "I'd like to punch her alright." you hear a voice from behind you and stand whirling on them. Becca stands there arms crossed scowling at Kaitlyn's back. "Looks like you moved on quickly." she clicks her tongue. "Quickly!?" you start incredulously. "Becca I.." you stammer only for a moment then you blood boils over. " How dare you?! She's my friend, Becca." you poke an accusatory finger at her."and she cares about me, something you obviously know nothing about." your face is heated and tears sting at your eyes but you cross your arms defiantly and glare at her. When she doesn't respond you continue chewing at her. "Anyway what about Mr brains in his biceps hmm? You two were looking mighty cozy." Her face falls and her lip trembles slightly but she quickly replaces it with a scowl. "Hes a toy, a thing, arm candy!" she shoots back and you scoff. "And what was I?" you hadn't meant to say it but there it was. She opens her mouth to speak then closes it seeming to ponder the question. "You...you were IMPOSSIBLE!" she shouts and turns on her heel storming off and shoving the guy she had been dancing with to the side. You sigh as Kaitlyn returns holding out a cup of punch to you. You sip the red liquid staring into the glass and sighing defeated. She places a hand on your shoulder and you lean against her trying to fight the tears. "I need to take a walk." you say suddenly. Kaitlyn startles but asks of you want company. "Nah, I'll be fine. " you walk off unsure where you might go, as you approach the gazebo you see a familiar figure standing there, shoulders slightly hunched. You start to approach a knew seething line of insults on the tip of your tongue when you hear a soft sob. You try to stop but your heel makes contact with the floor and she whirls. "What do you want?" she spits but it has less bite than usual. You open your mouth to say something but no words come, instead you find your feet carrying you closer to her. Becca's eyes widen momentarily but she stays stone still. Your hand is reaching out and that's when you are snapped out of your trance. You stop abruptly and spin to leave but her hand wraps around your wrist. She spins you around so fast that you stumble into her knocking the wind out of you both and she captures your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hands shoot around her neck as her fingers dig into your hips. A moan escapes you and you press yourself harder against her. Trapping her body against the railing of the gazebo, and grinding your hips against hers. She grunts and pulls away from you smirking "Oh baby, right here?" she questions with a quirked eyebrow, and you laugh breathlessly. You kiss her jaw and she gasps. "You were, uh are.. the one I love.. The only one I want." she pants and runs her fingers in your hair. You stop and look at her questioningly. Her face is flush and you're sure its from more than kissing. "Your question earlier..I err.. I know I messed up but can you forgive me?" she studies your face hopefully. "And your boy toy?" (ugh why do I have to go and ruin it, again?") you scowl at yourself but she must take it as at her because she stiffens then starts to pull away only to realize you still have her pinned. She sighs defeated. "Darren is a friend. Because all my stupid friends decided I needed to be at this stupid dance." you feel hot tears dripping on your forearms and realize its not your tears. You find your fingers playing with a few strands of Becca's hair and you freeze. Becca's breath hitches and you chance a glance at her. Her eyes are swollen and red like she had been crying for days. Your gaze falls again. "You're the only one I've ever wanted too." you swallow then look up at her smiling. "I love you." she smiles wide then kisses you again. "Lets get out of here. For a little private party." she whispers in your ear and you shudder. You push your hips against hers again."what happened to right here?" you whisper and bite her earlobe. She whimpers. "I wanted it to be..s-special." she gasps out causing you to pull away and gape at her. "Its not every day I admit to being in love with someone." she scowls. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you extend a hand to her. She smiles and as you two round the corner you catch sight of all your friends marching your direction. They all stop and mouths drop open when they notice you two holding hands. "So you two err made up?" Chris asks "Finally!" Madison exclaims, before either of you can answer. You just smile and giggle at each other. "Goodnight guys!" you call out. "Don't wait up!" Becca adds with a giggle. You both run down the path towards the dorms, laughing the whole way.

~~~~~~ 

  Songs in this fic

Summer Nights- Olivia Newton John and John Travolta

Hopelessly Devoted To You – Olivia Newton John

Tears On My Pillow – Sha Na Na