#other than get lost in her own home and then yell at a door's hinges because she's forgotten that the other side is open

[borgevino]

She Has Just Turned Three

[myhauntedsalem]

The Traveling Mummy of Elmer McCurdy

While filming a scene for the Six Million Dollar Man at The Pike Amusement Zone in Long Beach, California, a crew member broke the arm off what he thought was a mannequin. On taking a closer look, he could see bone within the broken appendage.

What he had accidentally discovered was the lost remains of a long-time sideshow attraction, the mummified remains of Oklahoma outlaw Elmer McCurdy.

Elmer’s body was a long way from home. Quite the seasoned traveler, McCurdy’s body had seen a lot more of the country in death than it did in life.

Elmer McCurdy was born on New Year’s Day in Washington, Maine, 1880, to a teenage mother who gave the infant Elmer to her brother and wife to raise. Not a whole lot is known about his early life up till the point where he spent three years in the U.S. Army.

During his time in the army, McCurdy took up a liking of nitroglycerine, a highly unstable explosive liquid. After his time in the army, and whilst looking for work, drifting about the states, McCurdy utilized his knowledge with the explosive to see his way into a gang of bank and train robbers.

It was then McCurdy put his nitroglycerine knowledge to good use, blowing up safes in order to access the money inside. Well, that was the idea anyway.

His first attempt to blow up a safe on a train went miserably wrong. McCurdy placed too much nitroglycerine at the safes door, and not only blew it off its hinges, but also blew a hole in the side of the train and splashed the now partially liquefied silver coins about the carriage. The gang attempted to scrape the silver off of the floor and walls but only managed to collect a little.

Suffice to say, McCurdy needed to seek out a new gang in order to ply his explosive knowledge.

After being arrested for holding tools used for burglary, and subsequently being released under a verdict of not guilty, McCurdy met a man by the name of Walter Jarrett. Jarrett gave McCurdy the tough outlaw name Missouri McCurdy, and the two spent a time blowing safes and money up together, in a number of bungled burglaries.

But soon McCurdy heard of a money train, which had a carriage containing a safe with thousands of Dollars inside it, a veritable fortune back in those days. The gang went to Okesa, Oklahoma in order to rob the train, but once again McCurdy bungled the deal. This time he did not blow up the money, but had rather got the wrong train. Instead of a money train carrying thousands of dollars, the gang robbed a passenger train and made away with $46 and a few bottles of whiskey.

After the robbery, McCurdy made his way to a farm owned by a man named Dave Sears to lay low for a few days, a large $2000 rewards was set for those who could bring him in, and a armed posse was on his trail. On October 6th 1911, Sears transported a very drunk McCurdy to another farm, but a Sheriff and his Deputies learned that McCurdy had been to Sears farm and soon set to questioning him.

Sears gave in and pointed Sheriff Freas to the location McCurdy was now resting. He also warned the sheriff that he had given McCurdy a shotgun, but also more whiskey, so if acting soon, the sheriff should be able to get him while he was drunk.

At about 7am on the 6th of October the sheriff and his two deputies surrounded a hayshed where McCurdy was sleeping. Sheriff Freas then yelled at McCurdy to give himself up, but the response was a streak of curses and an hour long stand-off.

Then McCurdy fired several shots at the sheriff and his men, and it was on!

The gun fight was so intense and prolonged that neighbor’s turned up to watch the battle. The hour long exchange of fire continued until shots heard coming from the hay shed ceased. A young boy was sent in to check on McCurdy. Not seeing anything the Pawhuska chief of police entered the shed and ascended the ladder to the loft, lead by the stock of his rifle, adorned with his hat.

No shots were fired or any other response was had. McCurdy was dead, with a rifle bullet in his chest. One of the deputy’s bullets had hit home, killing the outlaw. McCurdy’s last words were reported as being “You will never take me alive!”

McCurdy’s body was taken to a funeral home in Pawhuska, Oklahoma, but no one claimed him. The embalmer preserved the body, then allowed visitors to see the spectacle of the Missouri McCurdy for a nickel a piece. Every visitor would place their nickel in McCurdy’s mouth, and at the end of the day the undertaker would take the collection.

For nearly five years McCurdy’s dead body provided another source of income for the funeral home, until one day a man claiming to be McCurdy’s brother showed up to give his brother a proper burial. The funeral home released McCurdy into the man’s care, and within a fortnight, the Great Patterson Shows carnival had a new exhibit.

Many people flocked to see the body of the Outlaw who would not give up, and soon he was making much more money then he ever had when he was alive.

For over 60 years McCurdy’s body was traded and sold, from carnival operator to carnival operator and curiosity museums. Once he was even used to pay a default on a loan to a bank!

As the years passed, his body suffered the wear and tear of being such a sought after attraction, until after a time, it was forgotten that it was a body at all. Soon he found himself in tacky displays, finally to be painted bright red and hanged naked from the rafters of the Laff in the Dark fun house at the new Pike Amusement Park.

During the filming of an episode of The Six Million Dollar Man, the director didn’t like the dummy hanging from the rafters. A crewman cut it down, and in the process, broke the arm, causing the rediscovery of Elmer McCurdy.

In 1976 he was examined by forensic anthropologists, who discovered the gunshot wound, the make, model and year of a bullet jacket lodged in his hip, and were able to confirm the bodies identity.

On April 22, 1977, Elmer McCurdy, outlaw and safe cracker was finally given a proper burial in Summit View Cemetery, Oklahoma. Several cubic yards of concrete were poured over his coffin so McCurdy will never be interrupted from his well earned and final rest.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

It's Only Temporary

Feyre Archeron x Rhys - Tattoo Artist Oneshot

After losing a bet, Rhys gets a new tattoo

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Tattoos

2492 words

*******

“Fey!” Cassian’s voice boomed through the glass door as he grinned and waved to get her attention.

Looking up from her sketchbook, Feyre watched as Cassian tried to open the locked door again, shaking the wood so hard the bell hanging above it started chiming frantically.

She rolled her eyes and walked out from behind the counter she’d been working at, quickly getting to the door before his enthusiasm ripped it from its hinges. Feyre had barely flipped the lock when Cassian swung it open and immediately wrapped her in a bone crushing hug, lifting her off the ground as she laughed before setting her back down and ruffling her hair. Then he strutted through the dim lobby of her tattoo parlor taking his time to survey the walls of designs, the colorful crushed velvet couches, and the small rack of t-shirts and stickers she had for sale with the shop’s logo printed on them.

The Rainbow was Feyre’s baby. She’d saved almost every penny from the time she’d gotten her first job in order to afford her shop. After studying art in school and apprenticing for a few years, she’d finally been able to buy a small storefront in Velaris and built her business from the ground up.

It didn’t hurt that most of her friends liked tattoos and were always happy to be her canvases and subsequent advertising.

Shaking her head at Cassian who’d made himself at home near her front counter, Feyre returned to her spot with her sketchbook, now open to display a howling water wolf, and raised a brow, “Can’t you read? I’m closed.”

He scoffed, grinning, and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Not for me, Archeron.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help her smirk when she told him, “It late and I’m busy. Care to tell me why you’re here?” Feyre looked at him expectantly.

Cassian just grinned. “Do I need a reason to visit my very successful, very talented friend?”

“Wow, such flattery, Cassian. What exactly are you trying to get me to agree to?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to reign in a smirk.

He flashed her a wolfish grin. “Convince your sister to go out with me.”

Feyre snorted. “I don’t think you’re Elain’s type.”

“You’re hilarious, Archeron.” Cassian deadpanned and rolled his eyes, “Come on, Fey. Talk me up to Nesta.”

Feyre sighed, closing her sketchbook, and resigning herself to not getting anymore work done tonight. “Cass, I’ve done all I can on that front, believe me. You’ll have to win her over all on your own.”

“Been trying that for years.” He grumbled then ran a hand through his hair.

“I know that isn’t why you’re here,” Feyre insisted, “you ask me to do that literally every time you see me, so I know you didn’t seek me out for that. What’s up?”

He shot her a grin that made his single dimple stand out as he glanced at the door to the parlor. “Az is on his way over with Rhys and we were hoping you would do us a favor.”

“A favor?” she asked skeptically.

Cassian kept grinning. “You see, baby Arche,” Feyre snorted at the nickname. “your idiot boyfriend made a bet that he never stood a chance of winning, and he lost. Horribly.”

“Okay…” she rubbed at her face, trying to steel herself for whatever she was about to hear. Cassian’s shit-eating grin wasn’t making Feyre feel any better.

“Az and I want you to tattoo a little something special on Rhys for us.”

She paused, halting her shuffling of her sketches and furrowed her brows. “You want me to tattoo something on Rhys…because he lost a bet?”

“Yes.”

“Does Rhys know this?”

A slow smirk spread across Cass’s face, “He knows he’s coming to see you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Cassian, why would I agree to tattoo something—you haven’t even said what it is, by the way—onto my boyfriend when he obviously doesn’t even know what’s happening?”

“Well,” Cass pointed out, “I’d hope he’d realize what was happening once you sat him in the chair and got your needles and ink out.”

She snorted, “You know what I mean.”

“Because, Fey,” He sighed dramatically, “Little Rhysie is a punk and lost a bet so now he has to get a tattoo of our choice. And who better to do it, than his wonderful tattoo artist of a girlfriend?” his grin came back, wider than before.

Feyre said nothing for a moment as she stared Cassian down. Then she asked, “How drunk is he?”

Cassian chuckled, “Very.”

Feyre smiled slowly, “And how drunk are you?”

He narrowed his eyes at her but lifted his fingers to show a small space between his thumb and pointer finger. “Just a little bit.”

“So, a lot.” Feyre corrected

Cassian was silent a moment before grinning, “Rhys bet that he could outdrink me.”

Feyre blinked, then clutched the counter as she bent over laughing. She heard Cassian’s loud chortles next to her a moment later. When she stood back up, she wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head.

“Oh, my gods,” She was still chuckling, trying to picture Rhys go shot for shot with the mass of a man standing in front of her. “I love him, but sometimes he’s such an idiot.”

“I think you mean all the time.”

Just then, the bell on the door jingled again and Azriel held it open with one arm as he gripped a stumbling Rhys with the other.

“Hi, Feyre.” Azriel nodded at her as the door shut behind him.

“Hey, Az” She chuckled and walked towards the pair. “Can you lock that? Thanks.”

“Feyre, darling!” Rhys suddenly beamed and stumbled towards her, stepping close enough that she could smell every shot he’d taken on his breath. He used both hands to gently cup her face, squishing her cheeks in little and pressing a sloppy but sweet kiss to her lips. “I missed you.”

She smiled at him but stepped back to avoid his breath. “I saw you a few hours ago.”

He pouted, “That’s too long. I’ve had to look at those two ugly faces all night when I could’ve been looking at your dazzling one.”

“Why does he have to insult us when he compliments her?” Cass grumbled to Azriel who looked mildly amused.

He snorted. “Perspective.”

Feyre removed herself from Rhys’ grip only for him to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side. She leaned into his touch, and helped keep him standing, as she rested her head on his shoulder as she faced Azriel.

“Az, can you fill me in? Cassian tried, but I don’t know how much I trust his story.”

Cassian feigned hurt and shook his head. “Fey, I am wounded that you doubt me.”

Azriel’s explanation had been essentially the same as Cassian’s with a few more details and a little less slurring of words. She’d rolled her eyes but told them to wait in the lobby while she took Rhys back to her studio.

Feyre had no intention of actually tattooing her very intoxicated boyfriend just because he and his brothers had made a stupid bet. He’d have to be completely sober before she agreed to that.

Guiding Rhys into her back room, she waited until he was sitting on the edge of her large, leather chair before moving to stand between his spread legs. His hands instantly found her waist and she rested her palms on his thighs.

Quirking a brow at her boyfriend, Feyre asked, “Did you actually think you could out drink Cassian?”

Rhys scoffed, “I’m just as big as he is, why shouldn’t I have been able to do it?”

Feyre smirked as Rhys pouted. “Babe, you may be fit,” she huffed a laugh at his raised brow, “okay, fine, extremely fit, but Cass is a tank. And he’s a bartender. There’s no possible way you could’ve won that bet.”

Rhys kept pouting, flexing his fingers over her hips, “You’re supposed to be on my side, Darling.”

She laughed and pecked him on the cheek. “I am, always.” She kissed his lips for good measure. “But I’m going to tease you when you’re being an idiot.”

He used his grip on her hips to pull her towards him for an actual kiss. Feyre stayed wrapped in his arms for as long as she could stand his horrid tequila-drenched breath. Letting her arms loop around his neck and her fingers tangle in his hair, Feyre pulled back.

Rhys let his forehead droop onto her chest and Feyre had the distinct feeling that it was less about the warm comfort of her skin and more about an excuse for Rhys to press his face into her breasts.

“I don’t hear any needles buzzing back there, Fey!” Cassian bellowed from the lobby area. She snorted at the clear sound of a hand hitting someone’s head and the following curse.

She rolled her eyes but kept playing with Rhys’ hair as he mumbled something too muffled for her to understand.

“What was that?” she asked.

Raising his face, he looked at her and winced. “Are you actually going to tattoo me?”

She snickered at the disdain on his features.

“Maybe I should,” she teased, “to teach you a lesson making ridiculous bets.”

Rhys winked. “you can teach me a lesson anytime, Darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and was about to retort back when Cassian yelled again, “Baby Arche! We’re not paying you to make out back there!”

She snorted and hollered, “You’re not paying me at all! I’m getting there, don’t rush me.”

Azriel’s voice came next, “We didn’t bring your intoxicated man-child here so the two of you could get it on in the back parlor.”

Rhys snorted and replied back, “You say that like it’s never happened.”

“Rhys.” She hissed, smacking his arm as he chuckled.

“Gross,” two voices audibly gagged from the other room. “You’d better sanitize back there!”

A pause, then a disgusted Cassian said, “You’ve tattooed me on that chair, I don’t want to know what you sickos have done to it.”

Feyre and Rhys snickered before she said, “You might want to avoid the front couch then, too.”

Rhys, still grinning, added, “And the check-out counter—”

“—and the bathroom sink!” Feyre finished.

“Heathens.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys and Feyre laughed at their friends’ obvious disgust.

“I don’t need to hear any more of this,” Cassian insisted. “Ever.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and turned on her machine, allowing the steady buzz of the needle to flow into the waiting area; Cassian’s loud whoop telling her the sound was loud enough.

She carefully set the device on her counter and let the buzz echo through the room as she turned towards a small drawer and pulled out a colorful packet.

Rhys raised an eyebrow at the needle she clearly wasn’t prepping to use on him and watched as she flipped through the pages of whatever she was holding.

She paused on a page and grinned, flipping it around for him to see.

“Do you want a flying bat or one that’s hanging upside down?”

Rhys blinked. Twice. He slowly grinned back at his clever girlfriend as she handed him the sheet of temporary, press-on tattoos.

They were cartoonish-looking designs; the ones made for children that you could use a wet cloth to press onto your skin. He flipped through the rest of the pages to see a variety of other animals and plants, all ready to be cut out and used.

“Is my only choice a bat?” He grinned, looking back up at Feyre to see her already grabbing a scissor and paper towel.

She snorted. “That was what your brothers insisted on.” She took back the packet and carefully cut out the two bats. “They may be drunk enough to think a press-on is a real tattoo, but I don’t know if they’d accept anything else.”

When she held up both bat options for him, he nodded towards the one with outstretched wings. Feyre wet the paper towels and pushed his sleeve up to reveal his toned forearm. After making sure his skin was clean and dry, she gently pressed the bat onto his skin and covered the design with the wet paper towel, allying pressure to keep the image steady.

Rhys reached over with his free hand and grabbed the packet again. “Why do you have these? Besides for saving your boyfriend from a stupid bet?” he finished with a wide grin.

She laughed, still pressing firmly on the tattoo. “I keep them for the kids.”

At his raised brow she rolled her eyes. “Sometimes my clients can’t help but have their kids with them, so I keep the press-ons for those who see their parents and insist they get a tattoo, too.” She snorted at some memory. “I used to have washable markers for them to use but then a few of them would walk out of here looking like some avant-garde painting, so I switched to these. It’s adorable when they hold their cartoon dragon next to their parent’s actual ink.”

Rhys chuckled and Feyre lifted her hand, slowly peeling back the sticky paper to reveal a cute, flying bat.

He flexed his arm, grinning as the movement made the bat’s wings look as if they were flying. “How do I look?”

She leaned in to inspect the bat, making a show of darting between the cartoon and his real tattoos trailing down his arm. “Hmm, I think maybe when you’re sober, I should actually ink this onto you.”

Her grin made him laugh. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss next to the bat, careful not to brush it, and he smiled as she looked back at him.

“How’s it going?” Az’s low voice carried from the front room, making Feyre chuckle and Rhys huff.

She leaned over and expertly turned off the still-buzzing needle before calling back, “Just finished!”

Rhys brought his arm up and laughed again at the small, cheery bat placed between his darker swirls of years-old markings. He locked eyes with Feyre again as she put her supplies away and moved to stand once again between his legs. “You think they’ll buy it?”

She snorted, “Probably not.” She laughed again at his sullen expression. “But I don’t think the bet ever specified the tattoo having to be real.”

Rhys’ grin returned in full force as he brought his hands to Feyre’s face and guided her lips towards his. “You, Darling, are spectacular.”

Laughing again, Feyre leaned out of his reach. “And you, babe, still have horrible breath.”

Rhys rolled his eyes but loosened his grip as she stepped out of his arms, taking her hand as she led them back towards the front lobby.

“Come on,” she said over her shoulder, winking, “let’s show them your new tattoo.”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @angelic-voice-1997 @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART TEN

:Masterlist:

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3

(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3

-

December 1994

Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.

Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.

His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.

Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.

Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.

How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.

He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.

You were his best friend.

The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.

You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

-

2020

All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.

The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.

“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.

“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.

“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.

Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.

“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.

“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”

“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.

“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.

Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”

Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.

“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.

“Teddy-”

"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"

"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.

You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."

“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”

"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.

Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.

You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."

You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."

-

When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.

When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.

"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."

Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"

"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."

"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.

You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.

Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.

You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.

“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.

“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”

“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”

You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.

“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.

Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.

“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”

The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”

“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”

“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"

You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."

As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.

Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.

From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.

"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."

As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.

You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.

"And then there were two." Luke joked.

You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.

"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."

"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.

-

The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.

You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.

By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.

“You okay?”

She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”

You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.

“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”

You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.

But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.

"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."

You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’

The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.

The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.

As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"

She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.

There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.

After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.

Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.

Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.

She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.

Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.

The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.

You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.

You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.

Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.

Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.

You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.

Even if it was just for one last song.

Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.

The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.

You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.

“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.

You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.

“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.

“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.

You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.

“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”

“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.

Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”

You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”

Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."

"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."

"You do?" He asked.

You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”

"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"

Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.

Wait, what?

Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.

“Guys, come here.”

Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.

“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”

Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”

It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”

You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”

The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”

“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.

You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”

“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.

Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.

“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.

“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”

You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”

You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.

"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"

You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.

Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.

Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.

"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”

“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.

“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.

Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”

You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"

"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."

-

The End

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever​ @spidermankenobi

(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[starks-hero]

His Last Vow

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Request: Hey! I just adore your writings, thank you for existing. ❤ I watched Sherlock 4x01 yesterday, and I just can't get over what happened there. I'm truly afraid what will happen next... So I thought if you could write a fic about this episode. I mean something like this: after all what happened in the Aquarium, S. goes home to Y/N, his girlfriend, totally fallen apart, trembling, then he starts like... and destroying everything at home, and Y/N tries to soothe him, crying, fluff etc. THANK YOUUU <3 - anonymous

Summary: You can't stop Sherlock from falling apart, but you can certainly help pick up the pieces.

Word Count: 1,725

Warnings: lots of angst with some compensating fluff, a very brief mention of Sherlock's drug use, Spoilers for 4x01

“Come on, pick up!” You yelled as Sherlock's phone once again went straight to voicemail. You'd been trying to get through to him for over an hour and your worry was slowly melting into frustration.

It had been a few hours since he'd left the flat to ‘think without any distractions’, but you didn't take into account that he'd be gone this long. You knew this case meant more to him than most, especially considering it concerned Mary, which made you all the more worried.

You tried calling him once more, but when you were greeted with the same blunt voicemail, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Grabbing your coat, you pulled Mary's number up on your phone. You attempted to calm your anxious mind by telling yourself that Sherlock had probably just dragged John off on some side case. And if anyone was going to know where the boys were, it was Mary.

Just as you pressed ‘call’ and opened the door to leave, you were greeted by the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs. You sighed in relief.

“Where have you been? I was starting to get-,” Your voice died down in your throat when Sherlock entered the flat.

His chest was heaving and his body trembled, his cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes resembled those of a scared child. He looked completely distraught.

“Sherlock?” Your voice was timid as he entered the flat. You studied him carefully before reaching out for his hand. You stopped a few inches short. Sherlock's gloved hand, along with the once white sleeve of his shirt was now stained in a dark crimson red. Your heart fell out of your chest when you realised what it was. Blood.

“Sherlock,” your voice wavered. “What happened?”

You didn't receive a reply. Sherlock's back was to you, but you could still clearly see his struggle to breathe as his shoulders tensed. He pulled off his gloves slowly, hands shaking.

The room was deathly quiet. And then it wasn't. Whatever had happened, whatever Sherlock was feeling, whatever he had pent up inside came out all at once in a blind rage.

One sweep of his arm sent several books and heaps of paper flying from the desk, he brought his fist down on the tables top so hard you swore you heard the wood splinter. Several more books were pulled from the bookcase and not even the sentiment Sherlock held for his skull was enough to stop the youngest Holmes from picking up the human remain and chucking it across the room. His rage continued to the kitchen as the table was completely overturned, any unfortunate glass or cutlery that had been left on its surface shattering into ceramic shards as they met the cold floor. One of the cupboards was almost completely taken off its hinges. And through all of this, Sherlock cried.

You watched on in shock, frozen to the spot as you watched Sherlock destroy anything he came in contact with. No matter how much your mind yelled at you to do something, to move and comfort the man you loved, the horror kept you glued to the spot. Whatever had happened, had destroyed Sherlock entirely. You weren't entirely sure you'd be capable of dealing with it.

You were pulled from your frozen state as Sherlock turned his anger to the flat door. His fist connected with the wood. Once, twice, over and over. The timber was splintering and Sherlock's knuckles were bloodied, but he didn't stop. He just kept going, his strangled shouts tearing at your heart.

“Sherlock,” You approached him slowly but with unfaltering trust. Despite the violence you'd just witnessed unfold in the flat, you weren't afraid of Sherlock, not for a second.

“Hey, hey-,” Your hand brushed his shoulder but it didn't lessen his assault on the door. “Sherlock, stop it.”

Blood was flowing freely from his knuckles down his fingers in bright crimson lines.

“Stop it!”

Grabbing hold of his shoulder and forcibly pulling him away from the abused piece of wood. He struggled against you, attempting to push you away, but despite being taller and stronger than you, you managed to hold your ground against him. (The bloodied hand, sprained wrist and potentially broken fingers weren't playing in his favour.)

“Let me go!” Sherlock's tone was heart-wrenching, his voice hoarse from the shouting he'd done moments before. His vocal cords were spent. “Let me go!” He continued to struggle against you. His voice no longer resembled that of the stoic, detective you'd fallen for, but of a terrified child that had witnessed something they shouldn't have. “Let me-”

Sherlock's harrowing shouts broke into distressed sobs. He stopped fighting and allowed himself to collapse against you. The tears dampened your skin as Sherlock buried himself into the crook of your neck.

Sherlock's legs gave way and he was sent to the ground, you went with him. He clutched onto you for dear life, fingers clutching at your shoulders so tightly you could feel his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you so closely against him it was beginning to constrict your ability to breathe. But you didn't complain. You just kept running your hand through his hair and doing your best to soothe him.

You had never seen him in such a state. In fact, you'd never seen anyone in such a state. Everything you'd been through with Sherlock, the cases, the drugs, all of it and you'd never seen an outburst that could even begin to compare to the magnitude of the one you'd just witnessed.

“Sherlock,” you managed after a while, your own voice trembling slightly. “What happened?”

His voice wavered, sobs wracking his body. You ran your hand through his hair again.

“Hey, look at me,” your hand gently caressed his cheek and wiped away stray tears, your thumb catching them as they continued to fall. “It's okay, whatever happened, it's okay. Just talk to me, Sherlock.” You masterfully hid your worry beneath a gentle tone as you urged him to continue.

Sherlock swallowed down a rising sob and managed to choke out a somewhat coherent answer.

“Mary,” he cried. “She's dead.”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as the world shattered around you at the revelation. When you finally exhaled, reality hit.

Sherlock broke again and this time, you broke with him.

You cried into Sherlock's shoulder. You cried for Mary, your best friend. You cried for John, who'd lost his wife and for little Rosie, who'd lost her mother. You weren't quite sure just how long you spent weeping, all you could hear was the same two words playing on repeat in your mind. ‘She’s dead’.

You were only pulled back to what was left of your reality by the sound of Sherlock's distraught voice.

“It's-It's my fault!” Sherlock cried and you swore you'd never heard anyone sound so broken. “I killed her.”

“Sherlock,” you tried, expression falling when he flinched away from your touch. “Sherlock, please.” You carefully slipped your hand into his and he grasped onto it like a lifeline. “Listen to me. You didn't kill her. Mary, she-” you couldn't find the words to finish.

You knew Sherlock was lying, you may not have known the whole story yet but you knew Sherlock hadn't killed Mary. But he was blaming himself, and you couldn't allow him carry that kind of weight.

“It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll- we'll figure it out.”

You knew your words were empty. Mary was dead. The life you'd known yesterday was gone. It wasn't going to be okay, not for a long time if ever. But you needed to say something, anything, to help ease the heartache you were both feeling. You had to be strong, for him.

“I promised,” Sherlock's voice had been reduced to a whimper. “I- I promised I'd keep her safe.”

Having no other empty promises to offer, you did the only thing your distressed mind would allow. You pulled Sherlock against you and held him close. He sobbed into your shoulder, completely inconsolable.

“It's okay,” you comforted, holding the pieces together as Sherlock broke in your arms. “It's okay, I'm here.”

You glanced around the wreckage of the flat. Both your belongings were strewn along the floor, mostly in pieces. But none of that mattered, not now. At the moment there was only one broken thing you were focused on fixing.

Wordlessly, you stood. Sherlock's hold on you tightened, almost as if he feared you were leaving him. But a comforting hand grasping his own eased his worries. You pulled him to his feet and together, navigated across the treacherous kitchen floor that was covered in broken glass.

You pulled the first aid kit from the cupboard and Sherlock caught on, obediently seating himself in one of the chairs that had remained standing during his outburst.

Your fingers gently caught Sherlock's wrist and drew his hand close to you. First, you washed away the blood and then pressed the disinfectant wipe to his knuckles. Sherlock didn't react.

You sniffled as you worked, wiping at your eyes. Sherlock made no comment, his own tears were yet to stop. Focusing on Sherlock's injury and the task at hand was currently the only thing stopping you from breaking again.

You dried the wound and bandaged it up, not that it was necessarily needed, but it was something to focus on.

When you finished tending to the injury, you didn't let go of Sherlock's hand. You sat together for a moment, the silence deafening.

You glanced at him through blurred vision. His eyes reflected what you were both feeling. You were both broken. Mary, your best friend, was gone and the family you'd both found had been torn apart.

Sherlock pulled you into him, his strong hold suggesting that he didn't plan on letting go anytime soon. You held him just as tightly.

You sat together amidst the wreckage, mourning both Mary and the life you'd both had just hours earlier. You'd both lost your best friend and you knew the fallout would be unimaginable. But for now, you had each other, and you hoped that would be enough to make it through what was to come.

~~~~~~

Forever tag list: @miraclesoflove​ @bakerstreethound​ @kealohilani-tepise

Sherlock tag list: @fanfictionsilove​ @quentawewe​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @starrykitn​  @doozywoozy​ @xxinvisiblexx​ @the-worst-critic​ @Jellyfishbeansontoast @Xhz17x

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face.  From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

[mageofseven]

Hi I just recently discovered your blog and I’m in love with your writing! I have a little request if you don’t mind. The brothers (and undateables I’d you want to) finding MC bruised and beaten and later discovering they got into a fight with another demon. Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!

Awww thank you so much! I might end up doing the Undateables in another post, but I'll just stick to the Brothers for this one.

And thanks for requesting 😊

TWs: violence, vague s*xual assault

Spoiler warning: 1st year spoilers in Lucifer's and vaguely in Belphie's section

~

Lucifer:

Was checking out the area under Diavolo's orders.

Apparently there have been some people sneaking around in the old Colosseum and normal methods to keep other demons away from the historical landmark have been futile.

That and word has made it's way that some criminals have been using the place to secretly make dealings

So when he got there, he had expected to find some such people lurking around

Instead he found MC on the ground in the center, bruised and bleeding with their arm bent in a very concerning way.

He rushed up to them, calling their name and checking them for signs of life.

Honestly, the man was having major flashbacks to the day he lost his sister.

This was exactly where Lilith fell and Lucifer had to watch his sister, all broken and in pain until Diavolo came and he had to make the deal that changed everything

The deal that eventually led to MC's existence

Yet here they were now, in exactly the same place and state and the demon couldn't help but break down for a minute with panic he tried so hard to conceal.

The human let out a groan and the man could only sigh in relief.

"MC, oh thank the Devil..."

"Luce...?"

"You'll be alright." He promised. "I'll take you over to have Simeon heal you."

Despite the internal panic and flashbacks of such a traumatic event, he still handled the situation well.

Once MC was all healed up, he asked them what happened.

Apparently, they found a note that someone had stuffed in their school bag, asking for them to meet at the Colosseum.

They thought it was weird, but curiosity had gotten the better of them so they went and were attacked while exploring the ancient building.

The demon had meant to kill her, but sensed Lucifer approaching so they dropped the human and ran for it.

Ends up getting as much info from them about the attacker as he can.

Even if MC doesn't want the demon to die for what they did, they get no say in the matter.

Because of their status as exchange student, this attack is a political issue and the consequences Lord Diavolo warned his people about originally must be put into play.

Politics aside though, Lucifer would never let any being who hurt MC get away with it.

Becomes a lot stricter with what they can and cannot do

Like, they're not even allowed to go for a walk around the block without either him or his brothers accompanying them.

Even changes up their class schedule to make sure they have at least one of his brothers with them per class and they even have to walk MC to their next one.

Any arguments about this from MC or the brothers fall on deaf ears.

He will never let anyone lay a hand on them again.

Mammon:

School day had ended and he was on his way to pick MC up from their class.

Since Lucifer decided the day they came that he was responsible for their safety, he always had to do stuff like this.

He was late today though since his teacher held him back after class.

Blah blah F on the test, blahh blah summer school, blaah blahh blaaaah. Whatever man; he wasn't listening

And because of them, he was late. So much so that when he arrived at the human's classroom, they weren't there.

Lowkey panicked.

Shit. Shit shit shit, where'd they go???

Practically runs in the halls trying to find them

Knows Lucifer will have his head for this if he can't track 'em down.

Ends up hearing some kind of ruckus in the courtyard

And finds a big group of students forming a circle and chanting "Fight!"

"Oh yell!" Is momentarily distracted from his problem and joins the group. "Fight! Fight! Fight--."

Oh shit. That's his human in the circle!

Mammon's brain just started buffering as he watched MC dodge and weave, even getting some good hits in. The second brother was actually pretty impressed.

The lower demon in the fight eventually lost his footing and fell to the ground, giving an opening for MC to give a big kick between his legs and the demon let out a shrill scream. His green skin started smoking and changed to grey as it hardened and suddenly seemed more like stone than a person.

The circle of students started cheering and Mammon's jaw practically hit the floor.

Holy shit, the human did it!

MC fell the ground, panting heavily and bruised from head to toe.

Mammon finally rushed up to them.

"Damn, MC! You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

All of a sudden, some students started running and others just quickly jumped back, revealing Lucifer and Diavolo.

....yep, he's dead.

The two older demons started asking MC questions as they caught their breath and Mammon tried to sneak away.

Lucifer grabbed his brother by his jacket, but otherwise paid him no mind as MC told their tale.

Apparently this demon that sits behind them in their Devildom History class had been giving them crap for a while; calling them names and pushing them around. Today they even started touching them in places that made them wanna break the demon's hand.

MC snapped and told them such. The demon only grinned. Honestly, he was probably waiting for them to say that.

From there, he dragged them out by their hair and the rest is rather obvious.

Diavolo had some of his men carry the demon away. Apparently, the stone-like skin is defense mechanism, essentially the equivalent of a turtle hiding in their shells for that sub-race of demon.

The prince assured MC that the demon will be dealt with and tasked Lucifer with getting them healed up.

Mammon was hung upside down from the roof for a few hours for letting this happen, but MC was patched up and okay in the end.

Leviathan:

He usually buys all of his otaku stuff off of Akuzon

But occasionally, he likes to go out and by manga at this store downtown.

It's a once in a blue moon sort of thing, but he still does it

MC felt like taking a walk so they joined him

The two explored the shop as Levi fanboyed about seemingly every other series he passed.

The otaku had already started a pile of manga he planned to buy.

He didn't even notice when MC left his side until he approached the counter to pay

Boy just assumes you bailed on him at first and sinks into self-loathing mode

Until he heard a scream from outside.

He abandoned his manga and raced out, just in time to see another demon run for it and MC leaning against the building.

Their right arm was bleeding from the holes and claw marks made into it.

The third brother started freaking out and rushed them home, even leaving his books there.

When they get back, Lucifer patches them up with a first aid kit and a little bit of a potion.

MC explains how they were shopping with Levi when all of a sudden they saw Beel outside the store waving at them

She went out to talk to him, but then suddenly, it wasn't Beel anymore.

Apparently, it was a shapeshifting demon and, since they specifically choose Beel's form to take, Lucifer assumed that they must have been watching them for a while and planning this attack. They likely chose Beel because they knew he was someone MC would let their guard around.

Levi felt like crap for letting them get hurt, but MC said it was their fault for being tricked.

Lucifer decided it was both their faults and gave them both a long lecture

Satan:

The fourth brother invited MC out for coffee

The blonde actually really likes the atmosphere of coffee shops and wanted to share it with them

The two ordered their coffee and sat at their table while talking about books. He recently read a book on artic fauna from the human world and was comparing the information he read with their own knowledge

It was a very relaxing experience like most of MC's quality with Satan.

Before the two of left, MC had to stop in the restroom.

That demon waited patiently for the human at their table, but when almost ten minutes went by, he became a bit annoyed and puzzled.

Not wanting to be rude, but also ready to leave, Satan approached the bathroom door

He paused mid knock when her heard a low growl followed by a cry from MC

Now in his demon form, the blonde kicked the door off its hinges. It wasn't locked or anything, but the man was super pissed.

Found a demon pressing MC, who had a gash in their head, against the opposite wall

'An eye for an eye' is more or less the philosophy he followed here, or rather, a head for a head.

He took the demon and slammed his head into another wall over and over again.

MC had to run up and tell him to stop after the other demon passed out.

They left the demon on the floor of the bathroom and Satan, with his arms around MC to keep them close, headed back to House of Lamentation

The human didn't want the other brothers to see them like this and worry so Satan snuck them into his room and went to get the first aid kit.

It was quiet between the two as he patched them up.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He said as he finished with their stitches. "Seeing you hurt like that just made my blood boil. They deserved it, but you shouldn't have had to watch."

"It's okay... thank you for saving me."

The two spent the rest of the night huddled together in his room, reading and just settling down from the incident.

Asmodeus:

Shopping trip!

Asmo was a bit too enthusiastic about it, but that's part of why MC was all too willing to go

He mainly just wanted to see MC in cute outfits, but also bought a few for himself

Any self-consciousness MC might feel on her own is long gone when they spend time with him. He's always hyping them up and complimenting them and overall making them feel beautiful.

Time spent with Asmo is always a good time and well spent.

The fifth brother does actually leave their side for a bit after they found someone hot to flirt with

MC didn't mind and just let the Avatar of Lust do his thing as they continued to look through the racks.

At some point a very good looking demon approached them and started flirting with them

It became obvious that this dude was one of Asmo's demons, another demon of lust

Even with this in mind though, their attention really did make the human feel special, even if they probably said such sweet words to everyone

MC underestimated the demon, thinking that just because Asmo wasn't the aggressive sort that the demons under him wouldn't be either

Ends up following him out of the store and makes out with him against the wall of the building

They didn't understand why they were doing this, but the human's mind had been feeling foggy for a while now.

Suddenly, MC's whole body started to feel heavy and they were so dizzy that their vision was just a blur

Ends up passing out and waking up a few minutes later to Asmo crying as he stood over them and begging them to wake up

"Azzy?"

The man threw his arms around them.

Finds out that the fifth brother went looking for them when he saw that they weren't in the store anymore. He came outside just in time to see one of his underlings try to suck their soul out of their body.

As soon as they heard their superior's voice though, they dropped the human and ran.

The two went straight home and Asmo was extra clingy with them for the rest of the day.

Beelzebub:

The two of them went together to Madam Screams since they were both craving sweets.

Beel was really hungering for a cherry pit pie (though of course he planned on order other things as well) while MC was really hankering for some chocodevil cake.

The two happily got in line to pick out their treats, but MC stepped out to get a clearer view of the case with all of the treats to see if they wanted anything different instead.

Ends up getting attacked by a famished, minor demon of gluttony and slammed down on the glass case containing the sweets.

Beel jumped into gear; he changed into his demon form and threw the other demon off of them.

During the skirmish, the two ended up breaking down a wall and crushing three tables.

When the fight ended, the big guy rushed up to MC to make sure they're okay.

The human was bleeding and had a lot of glass shards embedded in their back and arms.

Though worried, the sweet boy keeps himself together and carefully takes out the bigger shards.

Rushes them home, treats forgotten.

Once home, Lucifer is the one who gets the rest of the glass out of their back and cleans up their wounds.

Beel stays by their side and lets them squeeze their hand when Luce's clean up hurts too much.

Luce gives his younger brother a lecture for all the stuff he had broken back at Madam Screams, but is surprisingly lenient with him.

The older brother didn't say it (and honestly, he should have), but he was proud of his brother for stepping up and protecting MC, but at the same time, expected nothing less from him.

Yeah, Lucifer will likely get sent the bill, but MC's safety is more important.

Belphegor:

Belphie had fallen asleep during class; no surprise there.

The rest of the students left the room when class ended, but the seventh brother continued to sleep at his desk.

MC found his sleeping face cute and didn't want to wake the demon

So instead, they hung around the classroom, waiting for the Avatar of Sloth to awake; the school day was over and the classroom wasn't going to be used for anything else so they thought there'd be no harm in hanging around.

Sadly, they were wrong.

Another student, a jerk from their Seductive Speechcraft class had waited for them to leave the classroom in order to harass them, but when they didn't come out, he came in.

Eventually had them backed up against the wall and forcing their hand up their shirt, causing the human to yelp.

He tried covering their mouth with his other hand, but MC bit them, angering the demon and leading them to putting their hands around their throat as he yelled at them.

The entire time, the minor demon never saw the Avatar of Sloth sleeping at his desk.

Big mistake.

Belphie woke up and saw the scene before him, turning into his demon form real quick.

Didn't hesitate to grab a hold of the bastard and make him let go of MC, who was now gasping for much needed air.

The seventh brother used his miasma aura to weaken the demon as he was now the one doing the choking with the lower demon.

MC covered their face and cried in their corner on the floor.

It was too similar to That Night™️ and the human was bordering on panic attack because of it.

Once the minor demon passed out, Belphie turned and saw MC crying on the floor.

He rushed up to them, but stopped once MC started screaming and begging for him to stay back.

That look in their eyes... it was the same fearful look he remembered from That Night™️

And it killed Belphie inside because he never wanted them to be scared of him ever again.

He waited for the human to calm down and, with their permission, slowly approached them.

He wanted to hug them, but was afraid that they'd just be reminded of it even more so he held back.

Surprising him, the human hugged him instead.

He held them tight for as long as they needed and started to notice the bruises forming on their neck

The two went home after that and reported the incident to Lucifer before Belphie dragged MC with him for a nap.

He chose Beel and his' room since he knew the attic would probably be too much for them right now.

Cuddled close to them and apologized for all of it. For falling asleep and leaving them defenseless. For the other demon's attack. For scarying them. Above all, that he was sorry for That Night™️

~

Masterlist

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

Yours (M)

best friend!Baekhyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff 

contains: friends to lovers!au, mild violence (reader has a bruise from a previous argument), Baekhyun is confessing to reader, protected sex, fluffy ending 

Author's note: I'm on a writing spree these days and this was a personal request from a dearest mutual. I hope it was worth the wait and I’m sorry for procrastinating

You left your boyfriend's house in a rush, your breathing was heavy and you were in shock, your jaw starting to bruise from the slap he gave you during your argument.

You caught him cheating on you while you were out with a friend. You saw him kissing passionately a girl you had never seen before and you had never felt more betrayed in your life. So, you decided to confront him about this incident. But things went south the moment he struck your face. You left his house in a state of panic, you wanted to run and find a safe place to spend the night. 

Amidst the chaos that was inside your mind, only a name popped up: Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was like a brother to you, you have been friends for many years and he was always by your side whenever something bad happened. So, you decided to call him.

"Hey Y/N, what's up honey?" he answers the call in his usual chirpy tone. You muster all the courage you have left to not make your fear and shock visible through the phone call.

"Hi Baek! How are you? Um... do you mind if I spend the night at your house?"

"I mean yeah, but- Y/N, is everything okay? You sound kinda weird"

"Oh! I wanted to.. catch my breath! Don’t worry, I'm perfectly fine. I just missed you, dummy", you lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible and not worry your best friend. "Aww, is that so? Okay then, I'll order chinese. See you soon sweetcheeks" he ends the phone call with a laugh.

As you reach at his door, you knock lightly and he opens, with his usual bright smile. His white hair is down and he's wearing an oversized white sweater with a pair of brown pants, making him look like an angel.

"Hello sweetcheecks!" he greets you with a hug and you fall right into his arms, basking in his scent that felt like home to you. "The takeout should be here in about 15 minutes, make yourself comfortable!"

You slip off your shoes and hang your coat, trying to calm yourself and look fine, so that you won't worry your best friend. You plop down on the couch and taking a pillow in your lap and Baekhyun sits next to you with two bottles of Coke on the table. As you put your hair to the side, he suddenly lost his smile as he saw the purple and red blotch on your skin.

"Y/N, what is that on your jawline?" Baekhyun asks, his voice hinged with worry, as he noticed the bruise your asshole of a boyfriend left after your last encounter. "It-it's nothing Baek, I had an accident, it's nothing serious..." you say nervously. "He did this to you, didn't he?" he asks with a clenched jaw, his anger now visible. You couldn't your tears anymore and they started streaming down your face.

"He cheated on me Baek, he cheated on me! I saw him with another girl, he looked so happy with her..... I went to his house to tell him to break up with him and he started yelling and throwing stuff!" you said through sobs.

He never liked your boyfriend, but being the best friend he always was, he said nothing, as he was silently watching you the past few months being in a happy relationship with said boyfriend. Deep down, he knew something was off about the guy, yet he never said anything to you, afraid he might ruin everything. But tonight, he was proven right in the worst way possible. 

"Y/N, I can't do this anymore" he looks at you, holding his breath. You look at him shocked, anticipating his next words. "All these years, I've seen you getting your heart broken over and over and OVER again, only to go and do the same shit to yourself! And now, you are here, right in front of me, traumatized by this motherfucker who had the FUCKING AUDACITY TO HIT YOU! " "Baekhyun-" "Y/N LET ME FINISH!" he yells in frustration, tears prickling his eyes as well. "We've been friends for God knows how many years, yet I never got the chance to tell you how much I love you. I had to watch you cry into my arms countless times, because none of the assholes could give you what you truly deserve. And you deserve to be loved and treasured like the angel you are, not to be beaten up by some godforsaken motherfucker!" He puts his hands on your cheeks and he touches his forehead to yours, the action making your heart beat faster. "Please, please give me the chance to show you how much I love you and I'll be yours and yours only" he whispers to you, a tear running down his angelic face.

To say that you never saw Baekhyun as something more than a friend would be a total lie. However, you never confessed your true feelings to him, because, ironically, you did not want to ruin your friendship with him.

But that was not the case tonight. Seeing him in this position and confessing his feelings for you made you realize how stupid you were for making all your past relationships and how madly in love you were with the only man who was always yours, in more ways you could ever imagine.

In a split second, you crashed your lips onto his and you swore you never felt this happy before in your life. You balled the soft material of his sweater into your hands and he interwined his hands in your soft hair, while he slowly deepened the kiss by dipping his tongue in your mouth. You pushed him back in the couch and hovered over his body as you kept kissing him with a newfound passion. Baekhyun then breaks the kiss to catch his breath and you see his lips slightly puffed and glistening from your previous ministrations.

"W-why all of a sudden?" he asks panting heavily and you shush him with a finger on his soft lips. "I lost too much time acting like an idiot and now's the chance to show you how much I love you back Baek" you reply. He then stands up, he lifts you in his arms and you wrap your legs around his slim waist. He opens the door and he gently places you on the bed. You swiftly take off your clothes and his clothes as well, due to being extremely turned on. "Slow down sweetcheeks, you're gonna rip them apart" Baekhyun chuckles as he takes your hands off his body and gently pushes you to lay back. "I want to drown in your body tonight" he says looking deep into your eyes and he slowly takes off your underwear and litters your skin with wet kisses from the base of your neck to your hipbones.

"Baekhyun please, don't tease me~" you mewl softly and he laughs. "You're so cute when you beg like this, sweetcheeks" and he spreads your legs to reveal your glistening core, dripping with arousal. "Oh my God Y/N, you're soaking wet..." he says slightly shocked as he dips his slender fingers into your pussy, and you clench , moaning in the feeling. "Baekhyun please, just fuck me already!" you whine at him and he smirks at you. "Impatient, aren't we? You're lucky though, 'cause I really want to fuck you and you're already prepped". He removes his pants and briefs in one go, revealing his nicely toned thighs and his thick erection flushed red. He grabs a condom from the nightstand, rips the package open and slips the condom on his cock, as he positions himself on top of you. "Look at me, you ready?" "I've never been more ready in my life, baby" you kiss his lips with passion.

He enters you slowly, the stretch a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Are you okay babe? Does it hurt?” he asks you worried, not wanting to hurt you. “A l-little bit, I just... need a few seconds” you reply. As soon as you felt the pain fade away, you nod to Baekhyun to start moving, setting a slow, sensual pace. “Oh my God, you feel so good around me Y/N, so beautiful” he breathes out, rolling his hips against yours, making you moan at the delicious feeling. Your hands were gripping his shoulders, while Baekhyun had his one hand on your hip and the other beside your head. “Faster, please go faster Baek...” you mewl in a pleading tone and he complies, picking up the pace. His sharp thrusts and sloppy kisses on your neck had you seeing stars and you couldn’t help but moan out loud. “Fuck Baek, you fuck me so good, don’t stop baby”, “I ain’t stoppin’ now babe, I won’t stop until I make you cum on my cock”, Baekhyun growls as his thrusts start becoming sloppier by the seconds, signaling his upcoming orgasm. As if on cue, you felt a very familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach and you clenched involuntarily around his length. “B-Baek, I-I’m so close” “S-So am I, babe... Will you cum with me?” he looks at you, eyes burning into yours, as he holds you close, skin to skin. 

You both feel your highs crashing upon you and you moan in unison, as your juices slowly drip out of your pussy and Baekhyun fills the condom with his own cum, groaning in satisfaction. He slowly slips out of you to dispose of the soiled condom and you wince at the sudden emptiness between your now sore legs. As Baekhyun throws away the condom, he plops back onto the mattress and he wraps his arms around your body. 

“That was... amazing”, you say and you caress his face, his white hair tousled from your heated session, his skin slightly sweaty and flushed, glowing in the dim light of his room. “I told you, I only needed the chance to show you how much I love you. Not just now, but always” he smiles at you and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.  “Does that mean you’re mine now?” you ask mischeviously and giggle afterwards.

“I was always yours, sweetcheeks”.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Just a Dream - Outcome 3 (Bourne Legacy)

A/N: So @santiagogarcia asked about writing from Outcome-3 and I had no idea who that was. But the idea stayed in my head for weeks and today this is what came out of it. I hope you like it. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking. Name credit goes to @veuliee2​ ;)

Pairing: Outcome-3 x F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, gunshot wounds, guns, and interrogation. Angst but not all. 

Word Count: 1.3K 

My Masterlist 

You stood at the window, overlooking the view of the lake. It was a quiet life. Every single day the sun rose in the east and set in the west. The small cabin on the edge of the world was far enough away from the bustling town but not so far as to be isolating. 

Your life had changed so drastically in the last eight months. What started as a one night stand with a handsome stranger became the most passionate and intense love you would ever feel in your life. He was like no one you had ever met. Cold and calculating when he needed to be but warm and soft under your touch. You loved him, and he was gone. 

That first night he made love to you beneath the crescent moon shining into your apartment through the sheer curtains. You begged for something to call the man who had you wrapped around his little finger in what felt like minutes. All you got was three—a number. What you later came to learn was that was all he was told. In the dead of night, after doing a thorough sweep of your apartment for bugs, he’d told you everything. There were no more secrets between you, not anymore. The undying love you poured into each other was all you both needed. 

They had come the next day. Somebody threw a bag over your head and shoved you inside the van as they took you to gods knew where. Locked in a room with a two-way mirror for four days as they interrogated and tried to find out everything you learned. But you lied. You could feel him on the other side, the heat of his gaze burning into you as they screamed at you over and over again. 

They had nothing to hold you on, so they released you, finally. Three taking you home a letting you rest before he pulled out the gun from the back of his jeans. He clicked the safety off, his eyes bore into yours, and you nodded. Mouthing that you loved him before he pointed the gun at you and shot. The bullet flew through the air almost in slow motion as he yelled for you in anguish. 

You closed your eyes, and when it hit you, fell backward, slamming into the ground. There was so much blood, and you lay there what felt like hours but couldn’t be more than a few minutes. His boots echoing on the ground as he stood above you, eyes streaming with tears, and moved to press the gun to your head. 

His other hand caressed your cheek and, to your surprise, placed an ear plug in it. He leaned down and kissed your cheek and whispered, “They are watching,” he slid the other earplug into your ear before standing tall above you, shooting the gun three times into the hardwoods beside your head. 

You’d always imagined your death to be a simple affair. Hopefully, in your sleep at an old age. But being covered in blood, some of it your own, but most from the local blood bank poured over you and zipped up into a black body bag was not how you pictured it. You felt him lift you and, under cover of darkness, throw you into the back of a van and drive off. 

Not only was he expected to kill the woman he loved, but clean the mess and dispose of her body. The lake was beautiful, much like the one you looked over now. He climbed into the back and unzipped the bag. Your shoulder, where the bullet went through, was cleaned and wrapped. Three put a bag, water-resistant next to you as he told you the plan. 

You had to die. To the people who trained him, that turned the man you love into a machine; you were dead. He would throw you into the lake and drive away; then, you would need to get out and go. Never come back. His hands cupped your cheeks, “Do you understand? You can never come back here. They will kill you. I’m so sorry.” You cried for the life you lost but even more so for the man. 

“Come with me,” you’d begged, but in your heart, you knew he never could. He kissed you hard, prolonging the inevitable parting before he pushed you back and zipped up the bag. You held your breath as he tossed you into the lake, and you counted to sixty. Ripping it open and swimming to the surface, and cresting to breathe. You didn’t dare go back to shore instead, swimming as hard as you could across the lake and into the woods. You found a cave to shelter in that night and lit a fire for warmth, teeth chattering as you opened the envelope. 

He had thought of everything. Trusted contacts to help you along the way that was far out of the system, money, a home, everything. It became very apparent when you’d finally reached your new home and found the documents for your new identity that this was not done in a few days. He’d been planning this for months. You had settled into the new life with relative ease. 

However, the first excursion into the small town was unsettling to your nerves. Each person who met your eyes striking fear into your heart. Were they part of the people who took him away? But no one came, and life settled. 

The wood from the porch creaks, and you freeze. Head-turning slightly to look behind you, your other hand reaching for the assault rifle under the window. Three had made sure the home was stocked with every sort of weapon imaginable. One of his ‘friends’ who smuggled you to safety had taught you how to clean and shoot, and you spent weeks during the first month here practicing. You lift the gun and take the safety off, moving slowly towards the front door—feet were shuffling every few seconds on the other side before a hesitant knock sounds. 

“Whose there?” you call, and no one answers. “I’ve got a gun trained on the door, and I’m not afraid to kill anyone who dares threaten me in my own home. Announce yourself,” you shout. 

“Do you know what to do with that thing?” You flick the safety and almost rip the door off the hinges to pry it open. You rub at your eyes repeatedly, and he just stands before you, almost waiting. 

“You’re not here,” you whisper, eyes flooding with tears, “This is another dream, and I’m going to wake up and be alone again.” You reach toward him and touch the dark beard on his face. “I wish you’d just killed me...that way I don’t have to keep losing you over and over again.” 

His large gun-calloused hands cup your cheeks and force your eyes up to his, “I’m here; this is isn’t a dream.” 

You let out a humorless chuckle, “that’s what you always say.” 

“I’m here,” he drags you closer and kisses you tenderly. The saltiness from your tears blending on your tongue as he opens your mouth to him. He’s large and warm beneath the layers, and his hands move to your waist to pull you flush against him. “Touch me,” he pulls away, breathless, “Feel my heartbeat, as it always has only for you. I’m real. You will never be alone, my love.” 

You’re full-on sobbing now, and you can barely see his blurry form through your tears as he pulls you both into the cabin and kicks the door closed with his boot. It’s impossible to tell where he ends, and you begin as he moves you back towards the bed—discarding layers until you feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. “Three? It is you,” you tremble and pull away to look at him, and he shakes his head no.

“No. Not anymore,” he kisses you softly and lays you down on the bed before falling in beside you and holding you close, whispering, “David. My name is David.” 

I’m already planning more...would you like to see it? 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @lunarthoughts @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @santiagogarcia 

Tagging some who might be interested: @veuliee2 @justrunamok @propertyofabelmorales​ @writefightandflightclub​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @itspdameronthings​ 

[razorblade180]

Always there

Inciting incident here!<-

After a long mission, Ruby Rose had finally made it back to her warm and cozy home. The seasoned veteran walked in with her tattered cape in her arms and removed her shoes from her sore feet. It would be nice if grimm stood still for once. The lack of pattering feet must’ve meant Garnet was napping. Her assumption was confirmed when Jaune came from down stairs with a story book, his eyes a little droopy.

Jaune:Hey beautiful. How was your mission?

Ruby: subterranean grimm is a crime against humanity. More so than regular grimm. What about you? Those eyes look like they need sleep.

Jaune:Don’t I know it? I only got back yesterday night with Carmine from camping, when distress call happened right as we were packing up.

Ruby:Was it bad?

Jaune:It....sigh, we were in desperate need of more people. A town got bombarded by a hoard, a big one. If that wasn’t bad enough, weather got ugly and the grimm were aggressive enough to track all the way to Ren and Nora’s orphanage.

Ruby:Are they okay!?!

Jaune:They’re perfectly fine. So were most villagers.

Ruby:Soooo is this just a tired face or is there something eating at you? *rubs his face* Did Carmine not listen out there?

Jaune:She did. Things were just heavier than expected for her.

Ruby:Heavy how?

Jaune:She....lost someone. Her room door has been shut ever since. This really hit her hard.

Ruby:Oh. Sigh, I’ll go talk to her. You go get some rest.

Jaune:You sure?

Ruby:Even super dad needs to take a breather. Give me several minutes and maybe you can start a bath for the both of us to float our stress away?

Jaune:Sounds like a plan, super mom.

Ruby:Pfft, not even, but I appreciate the compliment.

She kissed Jaune’s cheek then walked outside. Closed doors were a pain to get opened. Knowing her daughter, it was locked with things right on the other side of the hinges. Ruby took the faster route, petal bursting up around the Carmine’s balcony. As luck would have it, the balcony door was actually opened and the young Rose laid on her bed with her eyes locked onto Ruby’s. Knocking may have been less awkward in hindsight. Ruby opened the screen door of the balcony to let herself in. Unprepared for this actual talk, Ruby sorta....stood there aimlessly. Her daughter looked just as tired as Jaune. Ruby brushed the hair in front of Carmine’s face with a single finger, swirling the strand around.

Carmine:.....

Ruby:Ummm hehe, I’m home?

Carmine:The door was unlocked ya know?

Ruby:I never know with you. Plus I figured you weren’t in the mood to move. Umm, may I sit?

Carmine:*pats bed* Be my guest.

Ruby:Have you slept any since being back?

Carmine:Nope......talk to dad?

Ruby:Yeah but no specifics. Care to fill me in, if you want to that is?

Carmine:Not much to say. Arrived on the scene to help evacuate the people. I had a clone make a path of roses while several more started killing grimm. One of them had came across this girl who was crying for her mother as she bled in the mud, so I tried saving her. It didn’t work out.

Ruby:And?

Carmine:....

Ruby:Carmine I know there’s more.

Carmine:I...she....the path I made wasn’t safe. I had to take a longer one which ate valuable time. It may not have been my actual body but it felt like I could feel how cold she was getting. All I can do his sing her your lullaby; meanwhile me, the real me, found the mom after cutting down wave after wave of beowulves and several stupid monkeys. They got really aggressive, and I got so, so tired. I had to use my eyes; dad’s permission of course. It saved my life but that mother...I was too tired to save her. Apart of me wanted her to yell at me. To just give some kind of anger, but she didn’t. All she could is tell me that I’ve done enough and how thankful she was that in her time of need, Ruby Rose’s daughter saved her own daughter.

Ruby:Carmine...

Carmine:*trembling* I looked that woman in the eyes and told her that little girl was safe, but I don’t know if I did that for her comfort or my own. I just know a woman thanked me when all I did was fail her and the daughter. All because I wasn’t good enough.

Ruby:And that’s where I have to stop you. I’m no stranger to losing ones I wanted to save. It hurts, but sadly it’s unavoidable. The point is to never stop trying to save everyone. I didn’t have to be there to know that you tried your absolute best; there’s no shame in that. Only perseverance.

Carmine:....

Ruby:....Do you wanna be alone?

Carmine:No. Not really. I just...I can’t stop thinking about that mother and seeing you; or how that child looked so terrified. Like how I was back then, like....I still am.

Her entire body tensed up. Carmine could feel the fear carved into her back begin to manifest. The only comfort keeping the memories and tears away was her own mother positioning Carmine so her head laid still on Ruby’s lap; where she continued to feel gentle fingers run through her hair.

Ruby felt her own heart ache. It was rare to see her daughter waver. Carmine always stood firm in the face of tragedy. Ruby knew well that a person could only do that so much before they needed to break. It happened to her family, to Jaune, and even herself. It’s why having people to lean on was so important. Even the brightest sparks had to be rekindle now and again. Ruby didn’t need a long winded speech to say right now. Even she could tell right now that all her strong baby girl wanted right now was to be a daughter with her mother.

Ruby: Dream of everything. I’ll make it all come true. Everything you need, is all I have for you~

The tears couldn’t be suppressed any longer. Carmine hated it, but she began crying in frustration.

Ruby: I'm forever, always by your side. Whenever you need a friend I'm never far behind.

If the stars all fall, when there's no more light; and the moon should crumble. It will be alright.

Don't you worry about the dark. I will light up the night with the love in my heart.

I will burn like the sun; I will keep you safe and warm.

Like the smell of a rose on a summer's day. I will be there to take all your fears away.

With a touch of my hand. I will turn your life to gold~

Ruby looked down to see her daughter gripping the hem of her dress, eyes shut tight but crying nonetheless. Gently, Ruby rubbed her thumb across Carmine’s face not to wipe tears, but add the comfort she needed; to reaffirm an undying oath as a parent to her child.

With a touch of my hand, I'll turn your life to gold.

[apexqueenie]

Hi sweet! Welcome to Tumblr ❤️ I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x reader, where the read is quirk-less and hides it from him, then he finds out and angsty stuff happens, but it ends in fluff. Feel free to change bits ❤️

Yasssssssss sorry this took so long!!! I recently took a trip to Oregon and couldn’t write as efficiently as I wanted to, please enjoy!!!

The Bitchy Couple (Bakugou x Quirkless Reader)

Warnings: swearing (duh)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You remember the first time Bakugou laid eyes on you. It almost felt like it was yesterday. He tried to kill you then.

You roamed the middle school grounds, looking for someone to hang out with during lunch. The latest pop music blared in your eardrums as you lost yourself in your imagination, pretending you were in a music video or something. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t even see the three people that were headed your direction, equally distracted. The one in front was walking backwards, spouting loud nonsense to the two. He had no idea that you two were on a collision course straight for each other until BAM, your face collided into his shoulder blades.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK YOU NERD?” he turned around and yelled

Annoyed, you readjusted your headphones and scoffed. “You were the one walking backwards asshole, and you’ve got 2 goonies who coulda warned you, but I guess all you were too stupid!” You spat, walking off.

Back then, you were the only one who threw his shitty attitude right back at him. Bakugou didn’t wanna admit it, but he respected someone who could fight his fire with fire. Screw bullying the lower classmen, they weren’t as entertaining after a while. Besides, he found a new hobby, and it was to outdo you.

Almost every day, your conversations would end up something like this:

“Hey you wench, where’d you get those shitty headphones?”

“Up your mom’s ass, dickhead”

“Oh yeah? At least she has an ass. It looks like your back just extends to your legs”

Then, it escalated more into:

“Suck my dick, Bakubitch”

“How bout u suck mine? I’ve prolly got a bigger one anyways!”

“Nah, I know you’ve choked on waaaaaaaaaay more dick”

-And it got to the point that people were taking bets on who won the insult fest that day. In your school, you two were a famous duo, often being referred to as “the bitchy couple”, well, at least to the outsiders.

Away from the eyes of your classmates, Bakugou was a little more...sweet? You weren’t really sure what to call it, but it was a side of him that wasn’t always angry, someone who didn’t feel like he had to put on a show all the time. You worked hard to uncover that side of him, and damn were you proud. You did nearly everything to annoy him at first: telling everyone his most embarrassing secrets during lunch, purposely pairing with him during class projects- you even got your mom to contact his mom so they can arrange “study sessions” for you two. In return, he’d send the most embarrassing pictures of you to guys who asked you out, steal the shoes out of your locker so you’d walk to class with smelly feet, and blew up your jacket a couple of times during the winter. Eventually though, when the two of you walked home together alone and away from your audience, he’d lend you his jacket, promising to buy you a new one to replace the one he destroyed. During those class projects, you’d pour your all into obtaining a good grade when no one was looking. Underneath the mask that the two of you showed everyone, you guys were almost a couple.

Almost.

“Baka-gouuuuu” you hummed.

“What?”

You pouted your lips at him, earning yourself an aggravated blush from the gremlin.

“Disgusting” he said, “come to UA with me”

“Haha- wait what?” You stopped, completely baffled, “you want me to WHAT?”

Bakugou scoffed, not meeting your eyes. “You heard what I said.”

You scanned his face, looking for any sign of sarcasm or jokes...anything-but no, he was dead serious. That was completely out of character for him, even you were amazed at how sudden his behavior flipped. You looked down, thoughts spinning in your head as you processed the question. You were nervous, but why? He asked you to go with him, THE Bakugou asked you to apply at the same school when he basically bullied half the rest of the school out of even THINKING about it, so why aren’t you excited?

“Hero course” he said, and pointed to himself, “like me”

Then it clicked in your head, not once in the entire time the both of you had together did you ever show off your quirk like he did. Even when he’d challenge you, you’d always end up saying something like, “I don’t need a stupid quirk to make you cry like a little baby”. He’d think nothing of it and continue squabbling with you. No one, not even your own mother has ever outright told him you were quirkless. Maybe part of you was scared of what his reaction will be, judging from the way he treats Deku. Maybe some of it was shame from being a part of the minority in the world. You didn’t really know, and it was just something you never really wanted to find time for. Now, all that laziness was coming right back to bite you in the ass.

“Bakugou, I don’t really-“

“I’m gonna need someone to bully at UA...other than shitty Deku” he said, but his eyes told you what he really wanted. He wanted someone loyal, someone who would stick around through all his bullshit when no one else would. Even his goons were intimidated out of applying at UA. There wasn’t anyone left to compete against and keep Bakugou grounded except for, well, you.

You sighed, wondering how you were going to explain this to him.

“(Y/n)-“ he started again.

But you were faster, “I can’t apply to the hero course, Bakugou.”

He looked at you, confusion written all over his face. “What? Why?”

You looked down, averting his gaze. “Uhm, because... I can’t be a hero without a quirk, can I?” You say quietly.

It seemed like the world just stopped the moment those words left your mouth. The wind stopped shaking the leaves of the trees around you and Bakugou just...froze. You stayed silent, letting him take it all in.

His mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he turned away instead, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite hear.

“Baku, I can’t hear you.”

He turned around, rage in his eyes. He spoke low and aggressive, sending shivers down your spine, “so you were just a quirkless nerd this whole time? Did you hear me that time you little bitch?” He took a step towards you, towering over your smaller frame. You stumbled backwards and almost lost your footing, fear rushing through your veins. You were well aware of what Bakugou could do, but you never thought that you’d be on the receiving end. Is this what Bakugou was like as a true bully?

Bakugou scoffed at your reaction and continued advancing in your direction, “How noble of you, following me around and wasting time with pathetic insults when I could’ve been training. Do you feel proud of yourself? DO YOU?”

You were shocked. He hasn't talked to you like that before. Not like this. Tears threatened to start forming at your eyes, flushing your face red. Bakugou blinked, realizing what he just said. Deep down, he felt awful from the very first sentence, but his ego wouldn’t let him apologize. He turned around and walked on home, leaving you silently crying where he left you.

He nearly broke the hinges of the door off when he got home, ignoring his mother’s yells and climbing up to his room. He cursed over and over again, fighting his conscience and his ego at the same time. Dammit, he was supposed to be fighting villains, not his own head! On one hand, he just couldn’t believe that you would tolerate him calling quirkless people pieces of shit, but on the other hand, he thought maybe it was his fault for making you feel unwelcome at the topic. Either way, he wasn’t sure what to be angry about, so he got angry at everything.

“aaauuAAAAAGH” he yelled in frustration, as he slams his body down onto his bed. What the hell was he supposed to do now? You probably-no, DEFINITELY didn’t want anything to do with him by now. Still, he just couldn’t help but feel bad. It was gnawing at his chest relentlessly, urging him to go back and make things right, and that was exactly what he was gonna do.

“KATSUKI!!! WHY IS IT SO DAMN COLD IN THE HOUSE?” Mama Bakugou yelled. She waited for an angry response, but heard nothing. She walked up the stairs, expecting her son to have passed out already, but was instead greeted with an empty room...and an open window. “Stupid kid,” she scowled, “coulda walked out the front door ya know, or at least close the damn window.”

***

Bakugou didn’t break a sweat running to your house, but he panted hard. His mind was jam packed with the things he wanted to say to you, he just had to find the courage to say it. Hah, Bakugou Katsuki... afraid of something? That was a first. He climbed the side of your fence up along a pipe, just like he’s done a million times before. He’d come and leave before your mom could smother him with her home cooking and conversations about arranging a marriage between you and him. It honestly became a little too overwhelming, and he’d just sneak in and out whenever he’d have to tutor you on something.

He pulled the window open and slipped in only to find a lamp being swung at his face. He dodged nimbly and stopped your second swing with one hand, ripping the lamp out of your hands before you could try again. You turned around and grabbed a book off your desk, yeeting it at his face before kicking his stomach. The lamp made a thump as it landed on the floor, Bakugou now occupied with the gigantic math book. You frantically looked for something else to throw, knowing he recovered quickly in combat. Your eyes landed on a half eaten pork bun on your bedside dresser and you quickly lunged at it, managing to hit Bakugou’s forehead before he could see it coming.

“God DAMMIT stop tryna hit me with shit!” He yelled, shoving you on to your bed.

You staggered a bit before falling and growled in anger, “you have some fuckin nerve coming back here after what you said!” You yelled back.

“Honey what’s going on?” Your mother called, opening the door. You two were so caught up in arguing that you didn’t realize how much noise it was making...or the footsteps coming upstairs. Your mom gasped as she saw what happened. You lying on the bed, hair messy, shirt a bit ruffled...Bakugou standing over you just OOZING dominance...oh yeah, she got the picture. The WRONG picture.

She blushed bright pink, “oh uh, hi Katsuki, be careful you guys ok?!?! Okbyedontforfettouseprotection!” She said before slamming the door closed in a hurry and climbing down the stairs.

“MOM WAIT NO IT'S NOT LIKE THATUUUUUUUUUGH” you yelled and plopped your face into your hands. You weren’t even angry anymore at Bakugou, just frustrated.

You sighed, lifting your face from your hands and stared into empty space. Bakugou took the empty spot next to you, looking at the ground. There was a long and awkward silence between the two of you. Painfully long. Bakugou eventually sighed, making a move to break the extremely thick ice.

“I didn’t really mean what I said, (y/n)-“ he started.

“Then why did you say it?” You snarled.

Bakugou looked up at you, then back at the ground, fiddling with the fabric of his pants. “I was just, I dunno, angry at myself ok? Fuck off, wait no don’t fuck off, I...” he shook his head and took a big huff of air. Admitting his own wrongs wasn’t his forte, but it was definitely entertaining. You resisted the urge to smile a bit. He didn’t deserve that yet, not until he apologized. “I was just angry cuz...cuz I thought only people with quirks could be strong. But then you showed up and I thought you were probably the third strongest person I’ve ever met-“

“Third?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“After All Might, then me” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, “anyways, back to the point, look, I’m just sorry, for everything and I guess I shouldn’t have said that. I got upset at the fact that...I can’t beat your ass in hero course now. I can’t do projects with you anymore. And plus, if you aren’t going to UA anymore then-“

Bakugou was interrupted once again when you sat up, walked over to your desk, and dug through your drawer. You pulled a few pieces out before finding the one you wanted, then proceeded to wave it in the gremlin’s face.

“Who said I wasn’t going to UA?” You said, watching as his face just stared at the paper in awe.

“You’re enrolling in support?!” He yelled, taking the paper out of your hand.

“Yep” you said, giving him a small smile.

Bakugou lowered the paper and hung his head, “(y/n), I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.”

You sat back down and scooted over to lean on his shoulder, something he’d only ever let you do in private. “It’s ok Bakagou, I know you were only scared of losing me to some quirkless job like accounting or-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP IM NOT SCARED OF WIMPY SHIT LIKE THAT” he yelled, a small and almost unnoticeable blush appearing on his face.

You giggled, “sure whatever, look, I won’t be able to fight villains with you, but I can help you fight villains better by making support items for you. So I guess...that kinda makes me the hero behind the hero huh?” You smiled.

Bakugou scoffed, “Heh whatever, you better make me the best fuckin support items out of anyone there cuz I’m gonna need em to be number one, understand?!”

You scoffed back, “Number one my ass, maybe third place at the MOST.”

He growled as he whacked you with a pillow, making you shriek with delight. High school with this angry gremlin was gonna be interesting.

[world-of-aus]

Wish You Were Here - One Shot

Pairing: Biker! Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 8,915

Warnings: angst, fluff, blood, violence

Summary: Bucky will go to any extent to protect his family, even to the extent of pushing you far away from him, but has he gone to far this time.

Author’s Note: Anything italicized are flashbacks! Oh man was this one a fun one to write, there was so many times i was constantly adding things only to delete because it just wasn't flowing right, but if you ask me i’m pleased, and i hope you’ll enjoy it as well! Behind the Screen will be updated this week and ill be posting about a schedule for my works after i upload this! Happy Reading sweet angels!

“James, sweetheart five more minutes and then I'm going to need you to come inside and wash up before dinner!” you yelled through the backdoor of your home. Your rambunctious five-year-old looked up from where he was ankle deep in his sand box. You watched as your son comically threw his head back, a loud groan leaving his lips, “but mom!”  

Though you knew your raised brow would be to no avail you still raised it anyway, your hands on your hip, “five minutes James, five minutes and no longer,” you called out.

You could almost hear his grumpy fine, as he glared at you from his spot in the sand. You chuckled at his behavior before turning away from the door, returning to your post at the sink where you were washing the pots you had used to whip up dinner for the two of you. You watched your son from the window above the sink, he looked so happy, so carefree, you wished all his days were like this. Recently his behavior had been at an all-time high, there was usually no consoling the five-year-old, not when he wanted his dad, and nothing to do with mom. What were you supposed to tell him though, surely “oh yeah daddy’s not going to be home anytime soon because he chose the club over you and I” would be the last thing your son would want to hear. Every day that passed you could see your son’s once happy form slowly shrink in on itself, you knew he sensed the change in your home, he could sense his father's absence, and it was affecting the both of you.

You sighed as you shut off the sink putting the last pan up to dry, peering up you saw your son stare off into the distance towards the front of your home before he was bolting from the sandbox. You watched with wide eyes as he ran past the back door, right past the side of your home. You cursed as you turned on your heel making your way through your home practically ripping the door off its hinges as you pulled it open. You ran down the steps two at a time, freezing at the last step, hand to your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Mama, mama, look uncle Steve is here!” he beamed from where he sat in Steve’s arms.

You gave him your best tight-lipped smile, “I can see that baby, say why don’t you go wash up real quick so I can talk to Uncle Steve,” You saw your son frown.

“Do I have to mommy, I really want to spend time with Uncle Steve,” he whispered eyes casted down.

You sighed, heart breaking, “as soon as you freshen up, I promise you can come right back out and spend a few minutes with Uncle Steve, okay?” you bargained.

Just like that a bright smile took over your son’s tiny face as he squirmed in his uncles hold. You watched Steve place him down, your son running up to you hugging your thighs tightly, “Love you momma,” he whispered placing a wet kiss to your leg.

“Love you too, now go on, go get cleaned up baby,” you spoke softly ruffling his brown locks. The second you heard your front door close you looked over to Steve.

“What are you doing here Steve?” you questioned arms crossing over your chest.

“It’s Bucky y/n he’s - ”

You held up your hand silencing him, “where’s Natasha?” you questioned.

Steve sighed, “Y/n it’s not what you think, it’s -”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to hear it Rogers, I asked where Natasha was?” you muttered.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, “Clint got into a bit of a slip-up with another member, she was called to go stitch him up.”

“so then wait for her to get back, Natasha has skilled hands she’ll be quick”

You could see Steve was getting impatient, “y/n Bucky will have lost a lot of blood by the time she gets to him, he need’s you.” he tried

“Yeah well we all need things, doesn’t mean it always happens,” you muttered looking at the floor.

“Please y/n,” he was getting desperate.

“This better be the last time Steve, I told you I wanted out the second he decided our family wasn’t his top priority, the second he decided-” your words caught in your throat, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Your head fell, you shook it slightly as you willed the tears away. You took in a shaky breath eyes meeting Steve’s, “where is he?”

Steve was about to answer, when you heard the distant rumble of two more bikes, one that you had grown accustomed to seeing for years.

“were you guys just going to show up,” you hissed at Steve, “did you just think I would agree to this?” you questioned getting angrier by the second.

“We were hoping you would say yes,” he sighed, “there was no one else y/n, you were always there to nurse us back to health, he needed you.”  

You scoffed, “needed me, understatement of the fucking year,” you muttered under your breath as the bikes drew closer.

You watched Steve rush over to Bucky, his frame wobbling, your eyes grew concerned.

“Hey y/n,” Sam greeted, you nodded your head at him, “Samuel.”

Your eyes widen the second they land on Bucky, and you can’t control yourself as your feet carry you to him like they had done so many times before. A worried gasp is leaving your lips as you pull at the lapels of Bucky’s jacket, your feet almost fail you, there’s blood, so much blood, your face pales. “What the fuck happened,” you whisper eyes looking from Steve, Sam and then finally landing on his.

“Should see the other guy,” he smirks, “missed you doll,” he murmurs.

You scoffed, “please Barnes, if this doesn’t kill you, I’ll do it myself, what were you thinking coming here like this I have James inside the house!” you growled.

“Now sweetheart -” he’s cut off by the sound of your front door slamming, your son’s voice squealing in delight, “DADDY!”

Your eyes widen in horror, your son had never seen his dad like this, “apply pressure to the wound” you hiss turning on your heel  to stop your son from getting any closer, but he’s too quick and before you can even get his name out in warning he’s stopping in front of his dad and uncles. He’s frozen, his head turns to look up at you slowly, “mommy, why is daddy bleeding?” he questions you, you can see his lip start to wobble his eyes glistening, a knot formed in your throat, this is what you wanted to avoid.

Your dropping to your knees to turn your little boy to face you, you need to divert his eyes from the blood soaking his shirt,  your hands reach up to cup his cheeks, “daddy’s bleeding because he got hurt baby he’s -”

“is daddy going to die?!” your son questioned cutting you off, his voice scared.

“oh baby no, daddy’s not going to die, it’s just a cut, like a booboo,” you tried to reassure, “uncle Steve and Sam brought him to mommy, and mommy’s going to take care of him.”

“You promise you’re going to make him all better?” he questioned eyes glistening, bottom lip trembling.

Your thumbs ran under his cheek, “I promise baby, he’s going to-”  

You were cut off by Steve’s frantic calls of Bucky’s name, you and your son looked up to see Bucky slouched over, face paler than when he had first arrived.

Your son looked over to you in fear, tears falling down his cheeks, “Mommy, what’s wrong with daddy,” he cried, “mommy please help daddy you promised, you promised you would make him better!” he screamed reaching for Bucky’s leg.

You held your son back while you shouted for Steve and Sam to get Bucky inside, and to your room. All the while attempting to soothe your thrashing five-year-old, the wails for his father tore at you. You scooped him into your arms, running with him towards the house as you tried to calm his tears. Sam greeted you in the living room reaching for your son, “ he’s in the room, Steve’s applying pressure, I'll watch the little guy.”

Your son kicked and screamed some more, “mommy no, please mommy,” he wailed as you pulled away from him, tears glistening In your own eyes, “please don’t let anything happen to daddy, please!”he said reaching towards you. You wanted to rush back and hold your son tightly while you whispered reassuring words into his ears, but right now you had a promise to keep, “daddy’s going to be okay baby, mommy promises daddy’s going to be okay,” you called back disappearing down the hallway into your room.

You entered the door shutting it behind you, your materials were already spread out on your night stand, you looked over to your bed, Steve hovering over Bucky, “i got the bleeding to stop but he’s not looking good y/n,” you nodded your head stiffly.

“I’ll take it from here Steve, just please go help Sam with James, please,” you whispered.

Steve gave you a stern nod before he was leaving Bucky’s side, you moved forward to take his spot. You made quick work of cutting open his shirt, you had no time to waist as your hands weaved between your nightstand and the wound on Buckys stomach, this was second nature to you, you had been doing this for years now, though this was the worse you had seen during your time at the club, the most you had ever seen was a small gash, but this was something new, even for you. By the time you were done with Bucky, you knew you’d need to get rid of the clothes on your skin, the sheets beneath his body, and likely get a new bed.

You were numb by the time you completed the last stitch, your skin was crawling as you looked down at the blood that covered your hands and your shirt. Making your way over to your bathroom you scrubbed frantically at the blood on your skin till it was red and raw. You slipped off your shirt dumping it in the trash-bin and slipping on another. You walked back over to Bucky checking on him, his breathing was even, and his color was returning ever so slowly. You went to push his hair from his face when soft knocks sounded on your door, you turned your head muttering a weak “come in”.

Steve peeked his head in giving you a small smile, before he was pushing in, the door behind him closing, “how is he?” he questioned.

You took in a shaky breath, “he did lose quite a bit of blood, but with enough rest and some food and water he’ll make a recovery, wouldn’t suggest moving him for a good day he’s going to be in for a hell of pain, so he can stay here, you and Sam as well if you’d like.”

Steve nodded, his eyes meeting your dazed ones, “thank you for helping us, for helping him, how are you doing?”

Who knew those words would  be the ones to break you, the first tear fell and after that it was like a dam had been destroyed, a month worth of tears and pain fell through. Sobs wracked your body, your hands coming up to your face to try and contain them. Steve rushed forward his arms wrapping tightly around you. “It’s been a month Steve, a fucking month of radio silence, and the day he shows up he’s halfway to being on deaths door,” you cried “it’s been a long and hellish month of hearing James beg to see his dad, hell to see any of you, he misses the club, and he can't quite understand why dads never home to play with him, tuck him in, have a movie night, it’s funny that when the lot of you decide to finally show up it’s because Natasha wasn’t available to keep this asshole from dying, it wasn’t because you wanted to see your nephew, it wasn’t because he finally decided he was choosing his family, no it’s because he was hurt and you had nobody else,” your mad now, angry hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you swat at Steves chest, “did you see that little boys face when you showed up, did you see how his eyes lit up to see his dad, did you even care to think how this might affect us you guys coming here after a month of nothing” you yelled, “you can’t even begin to imagine  how hard it is to raise that little boy on my own when all he wants is to see or spend time with his dad, he can feel his absence, I can feel his absence, and it's all because I asked him to cut back from the club a little, just a little, and what does he decide,” you shake your head, “he decides that he can’t do that, that his family isn't enough.”

“Y/n --”

You shook your head, “I don’t want to hear it Steve, if it’s not coming from his mouth,” you said pointing to your bed, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Steve tried to speak a confused look on his face but there was another knock on your door, this time Steve was the one to call them in. You had expected to see Sam and James, and you did but there was another head popping in behind them, you steeled yourself, your eyes watched as she went over to your bed, her hands running over the now bandaged wound, she looked up at you with worried eyes, “is he going to be okay?”

“he’ll be fine, he probably won’t wake for the rest of the evening but he’ll make it.”

You felt tapping at your legs to see your son looking up at you wide eyed, “did you fix him mommy, did you make daddy all better.”

You kneeled down smiling at your son, god he looked so much like his dad, “yeah baby mommy made daddy all better, he’s going to be okay,” you murmured.

Your son’s eyes lit up his arms throwing themselves around your neck, “I love you mommy, thank you for taking care of daddy like you take care of me”

“Love you too baby,” you whispered kissing the side of his head.

Your arms wrapped around your son as you hoisted him up, his arms still wrapped tightly around your neck, his cheek smushed to yours, “you guys are welcome to stay as long as you like, I'm going to go and feed this little guy and spend time with him before bed so if you don’t mind cleaning up I would appreciate it.” you murmured before you were stepping past Steve and Sam making your way out of your bedroom.

You didn’t see the three of them the rest of the evening, your sole attention on your son. James stayed glued to your side the rest of the evening, some part of him was always touching you, like he was grounding you to him,  whether it be his hand holding yours while you ate dinner in silence, his toes brushing yours where they were nestled deep in the sand  box, or his hands rubbing your cheek, his petite frame in your lap while you read to him in the comfort of his bed before bedtime.  

“Mommy can I spend time with daddy tomorrow?” he questioned quietly while you tucked him into bed.

“Only if he’s feeling better, if he is you can go spend some time with him in the room, daddy’s booboo is very painful so he won’t be able to play with you.” you murmured pushing his hair from his face. The same grey eyes you had fallen in love with where staring right at you  in the form of a new love.

“That’s okay, I can find another way to play with him, oh I know I can take him my blocks and a book and maybe some of my favorite toys that make me feel better when I got a booboo,” he replied cheerfully, his smile growing wider as he thought of all the things he could do with his dad, “i’ll make him feel all better like you did mommy!”

You smiled softly, “I bet you will baby, but right now mommy needs you to get some rest, and as soon as you wake up you can go see your dad,”

He grinned brightly before he was leaning forward placing a kiss to your lips, “goodnight mommy,”

You stood placing one last kiss to his head, “goodnight baby,” you whispered, turning off the light before making your way from the room leaving the door slightly cracked.

Looking towards your bedroom the room to your door was still shut, but a light shone at the bottom, you suspected the other three were still in there with him.

The events of the day finally caught up to you as you sat at your kitchen table a glass of water in front of you. Your form crumpled as you finally let the tears fall, hadn’t life given you enough pain when Bucky walked out the door, it seems it hadn't because now you had to witness the man you still loved almost die, and to hear the wails of your son crying out for the dad he missed dearly, well that just about did you in.  

“Bucky we barely even see you now, the only time we do is if I'm needed at the club and I have to bring James along,”

Bucky sighed, his lips set into a deep frown, “Y/n this club is our life, the club needs me now more than ever, especially with Rumlow sticking his nose in our business.” he muttered his hands scrubbing over his face.

“The club is not our life Buck, this,” you said gesturing around you “this is our life.”

Bucky looked up at you his face set in a cold glare, “what is it that you want y/n, you want me to just drop everything, to leave the club, to be home with you and our son?”

“Is that so bad to ask for?” you questioned in disbelief, “is me wanting you to spend a little more time with me and your son a bad thing?”

He sighed standing from the table, “i can’t do this right now, I don’t want to fight with you,”

“then when are we going to do this Bucky,” you asked, “because between the club and you plotting with Steve, Sam, and Natasha, we barely even see you, James is always asking for you, he’s always asking for you throughout the day.”

“I’m working to keep the club running, I’m working to keep this family safe,” he said turning on you eyes in a cold glare, “the club might not be important to you, but it is to me, why can’t you be like the others, why can’t you be like Natasha?”

The question knocked you off your feet, the green monster rearing its ugly head into you, “wha-” you paused gathering your jealousy fueled thoughts, “what do you mean be like Natasha?” you whispered.

“Natasha lives for the club, she fights to keep things right, she’s there.” he hissed.

“Buck-”

“No y/n I know what you’re asking, and I’m sorry but I can’t, the club needs me, they need me now more than ever, we’re close to getting the upper hand on Rumlow and I'm not risking him getting away again.”

“So that’s it, the club, catching Rumlow, all that means more to you than your family, than your son, than me?” you questioned your voice wavering.

“Yeah I guess so,” he muttered.

“Then I want out James, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be second choice, and neither can your son, it’s not right, I don’t want our son growing up around all this, we could handle it, but he’s beginning to understand everything, and I can’t raise him around the dangers that lurk.”

He scoffed before he was moving towards the door, “where are you going?” you questioned watching his retreating back.

He looked over his shoulder, “to Natasha’s,”

The jealousy reared into you again, “why?”

He glared at you, “because she’s there.”

That night that he left to Natasha’s you hadn’t seen or heard from him since, and it had only been harder when James started asking where daddy was. You hadn’t been too sure what to tell him, so you did the best you could and gave him the same short answer every time, with a promise that daddy would be home soon. Every day that passed James stopped asking less and less about his father, and when he was coming home. He knew something had changed, but he wasn’t sure what caused it, the day that he promised he would start being a good boy so daddy would come home broke you. Your son was blaming himself, and you didn’t know what to do or say to fix any of this.

The sound of feet walking down the hallway pulled you from your thoughts, you quickly wiped at your tears, fanning at your face. You looked to your side to see the Sam, Steve, Natasha. You gave them a nod before your eyes were going back to you glass. You heard the scrapes of the chairs next to you, you looked up their eyes trained on you.

“You okay?” Sam questioned.

You scoffed, you were so tired of that question, “does it look like I'm okay Sam, I already tore into Steve earlier, but maybe I'll feel the tiniest bit better if I give it another go,” you muttered. They looked at you confused didn’t say anything so you continued.

“I haven't heard from Bucky since he left a month ago, I also haven’t heard from any of you either, none of you called, texted or even showed up, and trust me I get it there’s things going on at the club so to some extent I understand,” you took a breath, “but you know what I can’t understand, is that it took Bucky being critically injured and Natasha not being available for you all to come by, you didn’t come by to see us, check on us, to spend time with James, no, you came because you had no other choice, so how do you think I'm feeling?” you hissed

“But y/n”

“But nothing Sam, the day Bucky left, I had asked Bucky to simply spend more time with me and his son, I never once asked him to give up the club, that's his life, but it wasn’t mine, not since we had James, and just like Bucky wanted to protect us, and keep us safe, that is why I chose to leave, James was beginning to understand the things he saw when I would bring him out with me, I couldn’t put my son through that, so I made that decision for my family,” you sucked in a breath, “when I told him my decision he decided that he didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to fight for us, but before he left he asked me why I couldn’t be like all of you, like Natasha, she was apparently more understanding, was there for him  when I wasn’t, but the only time he wanted me around the club is when he called for me,” you shook your head, “so I'm sorry if I'm not doing my best, but the day Bucky left, he didn’t just leave with his things, no, he took all of me with him, so excuse me if I'm not the welcoming committee you all were expecting but for a month I had to raise my son alone, my son who asked me every hour of everyday where his father was and if he was finally coming home today, and that continued for weeks till he just stopped asking, stopped expecting to see the bike pull up, the door open.”

“Y/n,” natasha spoke up, you looked up at her through tear filled eyes, “we had no idea, none of us knew, Bucky didn’t explain any of this to us, he never told us there was any issues going on at home”

“of course he wouldn’t,” you scoffed, “as soon as he entered the club, it was strictly club business, family and home was not supposed to be brought up.”

“no y/n, understand when we say none of us knew, there’d be times we would ride with him over here once we were finished up at the club, and he would pull just outside of the gates, till we were out of sight, we thought he was coming home to you.”

“well he wasn’t, how did you not know about this?” you questioned her, “that night he left he said he was going to you, because you were there, because you’ve always been there.” you muttered.

“y/n I can assure you Bucky did not come to me that night, Bucky hasn’t been to my home unless it was with one of these two,” she said gesturing to Sam and Steve.

“she’s right y/n,” Steve spoke up quietly, “we swear none of us knew this was happening, or that it was this bad.”

“yeah y/n, if Barnes wasn’t recovering, I would have knocked him on his ass.” Sam muttered, reaching out his hand to you, you looked at his palm skeptically before placing yours in his.

“But Steve when I spoke to you outside before the two of them got here you seemed like you knew,” you questioned confused.

“Bucky told us he had upset you pretty bad before he arrived at the club this morning, he said you weren't going to be too happy seeing us there, that you might not want to help, because of how bad he messed up, I tried telling him you couldn’t stay mad with him, much less with the fact that he was stabbed, but he kept holding off coming over here, I just thought you were extremely upset still, but I didn’t know it was because of all this so when you got upset with me in the room, I was surprised as well, but you wouldn’t let me get a word in.”

You shoulders sagged, “so none of you knew,” you whispered shakily.

Sam’s thumb ran over your hand, “we swear none of us knew, we would never let you go through something like this y/n you have to believe us.”

You knew you believed them, they were the closest thing to family that you had, you knew they wouldn’t lie to you, not like this. The only thing that was bothering you was the thought that Bucky was hiding something much bigger, bigger than all of you if he went to this extent. To say your night had been restless was an understatement. You barely slept a wink, you were more concerned with confronting Bucky, to get to the bottom of all this, you needed to know why he had done what he did.

Sam, Steve, and Natasha had stayed up with you as long as they could, they reassured you every second that your mind raced with the thoughts of “what ifs”. Eventually you sent them off to the two guest bedrooms despite their protests.

“guys really, go get some rest, there’s no point in me taking a bed I won’t be getting any sleep in, there’s just too much on my mind.”

After sending them off to bed, you remained on the couch, it wasn’t until the first rays of sun peeked through the curtains that sleep finally pulled you under, and even then, your dreams were plagued by your own thoughts.

The smell of coffee and the sizzling sounds of eggs pulled you from your restless sleep. Peeking your head over the couch you saw five bodies, in the kitchen, your son was seated on the counter closest to the stove his legs swinging happily as he watched his father cook, the other three sat at your table a cup of coffee in front of each of them as they watched your son,  you could sense an underlying tension in the room, had they confronted Bucky? Pulling yourself from the couch you let out a pained groan, your back screaming at you for sleeping on the too small couch, “Mommy, you’re awake!” your son squealed the second he had seen you.

You smiled at him softly making you way over to him, “good morning baby,” you whispered into his hair as you placed a kiss to his head. You bid the other’s one as well before your eyes were falling on Bucky, he gave you a tight-lipped smile a cup of coffee in his hand, “How are you feeling you questioned?”

“feeling more sore than anything, thank you for helping me out, but I think we need to talk, doll, or at least i have some explaining to do, and apologizing as well.”

You took the cup from his out stretched hand, your brow raised at him, “you think,” you muttered.

Wanting to enjoy a nice breakfast with your son, you dropped the subject for now, but you weren’t going to let him forget you needed to talk. You were relatively quiet during breakfast opting instead to enjoy your son’s joyous chatter as he told everyone surrounding him all he had done the month he had been apart from them. His laughter was contagious as was his bright smile, you almost forgot for a moment the storm looming over you. Once breakfast was finished and the dishes had been cleared, your son had asked if he could show his uncles and auntie Nat, his collection of toy cars you had recently purchased him. You nodded your head, smiling when an excited squeal sounded through the room, your son grabbing as many hands as he could.

The room fell into silence, the sound of a chair scraping against the tiled floor filled the room, you turned your head Bucky sitting in the chair closest to you.

“What are you hiding?” you questioned right off the bat.

A sigh left his lips, his head shook slightly, “there’s no easy way to explain any of this sweetheart.”

You glared at him, “well you better find a damn way too, because I deserve to know what the hell is going on with you.”

“It’s Rumlow,” the name made your breath catch in your throat, “we had underestimated him and how far he was willing to take things, we had stopped some of the business transactions he had been doing around our area and well he wasn’t too happy,” a deep sigh fell from his lips, “a few days after we had done that the first manila envelope showed up on the steps of the club, it was addressed to me,” he took a deep breath his hand that on the table was clenched into a fist, “there was pictures, they were of you and James, he threatened your life,” he growled his eyes boring into yours.

You froze at his words, “as soon as I saw the pictures of the two of you in there, I lost it, I didn’t know what to do sweetheart, he knew how much you two meant to me, and he knew that threatening to come after the two of you would throw me off,” he paused, “I had to do something, and I had to do it quick but I knew that if I did it right away you wouldn’t let me go so easily, so I had to plan it out, I had to slowly push you away from the club, only calling you when it was necessary, even coming home late, it pained me to do any of this sweetheart but that night that I told you I was keeping the two of you safe, I was really doing it.” You remained quiet wanting him to continue, “letters had still been showing up on the doorstep of the club, I thought by pushing you away little by little that they would stop but they didn’t, so I had to do it all together that night, I’m so sorry for what I put you through sweetheart, I would never intentionally hurt you or our son like this if I wasn’t trying my hardest to keep the two of you out of harm's way, I know it wasn’t the best way to go about things and you probably hate me for the hell I put you through, but I'm so sorry, i didnt think there was another way.”

You took in everything Bucky had just told you, you were frozen in your spot, “why didn’t you say anything, did the club know?” you questioned voice shaky.

“Nobody knew doll, I was always the first one to the club,” he sighed, “I didn’t want to worry anyone, I didn’t want them doing anything that would throw Rumlow off, from the photos I was receiving there was someone scouting the house, and I knew If I told the others they would be rushing over here doing what they could to protect the two of you,” he shook his head, “i felt helpless, and I thought by doing this it would help to protect the two of you, I've regretted it every day since.”

You took in a shaky breath, “and did it?” you questioned, “did you stop receiving threats”?

He nodded his head eyes casted down, you slumped in your seat, you didn’t know what to feel. You didn’t know whether to feel angry, sad, happy, scared, you just didn’t know, you were numb to it all, how do you take in the information that your husband had left you and your son a month ago to protect your life. You knew Bucky would go to whatever extent he needed to protect the two of you, but you would have never imagined it going this far, and that’s what worried you. How bad had this threat been to have him planning out weeks of pushing you away, to have him leaving you for a month, the way he did.

“Buck why couldn’t you just talk to me, why couldn’t you tell me what was going on?” you questioned looking up at him through tear filled eyes.

“I was scared doll, I didn’t want to involve you in this, especially with James and how you had been feeling about bringing him to the club, I imagined this only making matters worse, I just, I couldn’t put you through that,”

“Bucky we are in this together, you could have told me what was going on, and I would have understood what it was that you needed to do, you shouldn’t have had to do this alone.”

“sweetheart,” he sighed, “Rumlow is a dangerous man, he’s proved more times than none he will stop at nothing, and the second he threatened your life, I lost it, I wasn’t thinking rationally, all I knew was I needed to protect you and in that moment in time I hadn't cared how I did it, I didn’t think of the consequences, I didn’t think of the pain I would leave in my wake, I just wanted you safe,” Bucky’s hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away at a tear, “I’m so sorry I put the two of you through this sweetheart, I thought I was doing right, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am, I know now I should have come to you, come to the guys about this, but I was just so fucking scared to lose you, that I did just that,”

“Bucky I-”  

Suddenly gunshots were breaking through the windows of the front of your home a scream tore through you, as glass continued to shatter around you. Bucky was quick to move as he flipped your table, yanking you down with him. You could hear the screams of your son, terror ran through you, you weren't thinking as you stood with a racing heart running through the kitchen “y/n no!” Bucky yelled over the gunfire; you didn’t make it far as Bucky jumped after you, both your bodies flying to the floor in the hallway, Bucky grunted his body crawling over yours. Tears were streaming down your face, as the gunfire continued to pour through your home, the sound of glass breaking and wood cracking filled your ears. You could still hear your sons screams a few feet away from the two of you, “Bucky,” you choked out.

He pulled you closer to him, your face pressed into his chest, time slowed for you as the rain of gunfire continued. You weren’t sure how long you laid there body pressed in terror against his before the gunfire finally ceased, the sounds of bikes loudly  racing away.

“You guys good?” Bucky yelled out.

“We’re all good,” Steve called out,  

“Sweetheart, you okay?”Bucky whispered looking down at you.

You pulled your head from his chest looking up at him, you nodded your head stiffly, “we’re going to get up slowly, and I want you to make your way to James room, you got that?” He questioned.

You didn’t give him an answer as you did what you were told, you were careful as you made your way over to your sons room only to find his bed flipped against the door. You leaned up peeking over it to see them in the farthest corners of his room.

“Mommy!” James cried as he pulled away from Steve’s hold, face red with tears streaming down his face. He ran into you his small arms wrapping around you holding on tightly as he cried into your legs.

You did your best to lean down hugging his tiny frame to you, “mommy,” he hiccupped, “daddy’s bleeding again,” you looked over to where Bucky leaned against the door, his bandaged wound stained in blood.

“Natasha do you think you can check him out please?” you whispered.

Natasha nodded beckoning Bucky closer, it was quiet for a few minutes, your son’s sniffles quieting the longer you held him.

Steve was the first to break the silence, “Buck is there something you want to tell us?”

Bucky stayed silent for a minute wincing when Natasha pierced the needle through his skin, a sigh left his lips before he was retelling the information he had just shared with you in the kitchen.

“goddamnit Buck, why didn’t you come to us earlier, we could have helped you with this, we could have avoided all this,” Steve grunted gesturing around your home.

“Fuck!” bucky hissed as Natasha finished the last stitch, “I know what you all would have done, rumlow already had eyes on the house, on my wife and kid, had I involved any of you, you all would have been in his radar too.”

“You didn’t have to go through this by yourself, we’re a team, a family, we would have figured something out with you, you didn’t need to do any of this.”

Bucky looked over to you, his eyes locking on you and your son, “I know that now,” he voiced quietly.

“Well we need to do something, we can’t let that asshole get away,” Sam piped in.

“We’re not doing anything till I get my family safe, and I know that they’re going to be safe,” Bucky grunted.

Bucky worked quick, he gave you a few hours to pack any salvageable belongings for you and James, you worked silently not lingering to long on things. Most of the rooms towards the front of the home had been destroyed with bullet holes, and your room just so happened to be in the front. You couldn’t help the various what ifs that popped up in your head, as you looked through your clothes, picking out ones that had no damage. Your mind kept racing; what if Bucky had still been in here when it happened, what if you had been in here, what if James had been outside playing, what if after what if played through your mind. You found yourself bracing your hands against your drawers as the tears took over.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky questioned softly from the doorway. You looked over to him, the second he saw your tear stained cheeks he was making his way over to you. You caved the second his arms wrapped around you, “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry I let it get this bad,” he murmured into your hair, pulling you closer the louder your cries got.  

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed you in a blur as Bucky worked on getting you and James somewhere safe Steve, and Natasha had gone to check the location where you would  you be moving too was ready for you, while sam was asked to go to the club and get some help in moving the two of you without anyone noticing. You had just finished packing the last of the things for the two of you when you head your sons small voice from his room, “are you not going to come with us daddy, are you still not going to come home?” From where you stood you were able to see your son sitting on the floor surrounded by his toys, Bucky kneeling in front of him.

Bucky took James face in his hand getting him to look up at him, “I won’t be home right away son, but I promise when daddy fixes all this mess that I'm coming home to you, and daddy will spend time with you every day when all this is over.”

“Will you be safe?” he questions in a timid voice, “I know mommy can’t go with you because she has to keep me safe, but will someone be there to keep you safe and fix your booboos, I don’t want anything to happen to you daddy,” he whispered lower lip trembling.

Bucky leaned forward to press his lips to your sons head, “I promise I'll be okay buddy, I’ll have someone watching my back.”

Your son nodded his head before he was looking back up at his dad, “when you come back home will you tell mommy sorry?” he questioned looking up at him with grey doe eyes, “mommy was really sad when you werent home daddy,”  

He smiled sadly, “I promise I'll tell her sorry every single day for the rest of my life when I get home,” his head turned towards you, eyes locked on yours, “I’ll also tell her I love her, and that I'll never hurt her ever again, because you and your mom mean more to me than I could ever put into words, I love you so much,”  though his words were spoken to your son, with the intensity his eyes held you knew the words were meant for you to hear.

It was nearing midnight when you finally arrived to your new home, pulling up to the stone gate, you watched Sam punch in a code, the gate swung open immediately, granting the car you were in, and the one behind you entrance. Just as quickly as it had opened it was also quick in closing, “Mommy is this our new home?” your son questioned from beside you.

“I’m not sure baby,” you murmured amazed at the vast expansion of land.

“I hope it is, it’s beautiful mommy, oh mommy look, a playground!” your son pointed out once you drew closer to the house. He was pressed against the window, his breath fogging up the glass, as soon as the car was in park your son was bolting out.

Before you exited the car, you turned to Sam, “I'm assuming you won’t be staying?” you questioned eyes meeting his in the mirror. He shook his head, “We got a lead on Rumlow and if we get moving tonight, we may be able to finish this sooner than later, Nat and Steve are already at the club waiting for us, they fixed up the place already for you guys.”

You nodded your head slowly looking back to your son to see Bucky had joined him your son squealing in delight as Bucky pushed him higher on the swing. You smiled at the sight, you loved seeing your son so happy, your heart clenched at the thought of what they were about to embark on. Your eyes met Sam’s again in the mirror, “Sam promise me you all will be safe, I need you all to come out of this unharmed,” you paused taking in a breath your eyes falling on Bucky, “ I need you to bring him back to us, James needs his dad, and I need him too, I can’t do this without him” Sam turned in his seat his eyes meeting yours, a warm smile on his face, “I promise, we’re bringing him back to you, and I can promise he’s never going to slip up again, not if any of us have a say in it,” he sighed, “that man loves you y/n, he loves you more than anything, even the club, so trust me when I say he’s going to come back to the two of you.”

You nodded your head your hand reaching out to touch Sam’s cheek, “please be safe Samuel, aside from Nat, I don’t think I'd be able to deal with all this chaos without you,” you smiled eyes tearing.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone with those two,” he chuckled, “now go, go talk to your man, we have to be getting ready soon, and I know if we stall any longer he’s never going to want to leave, not when he just got the two of you back.

Giving Sam one last smile you exited from the car making your way over to the Bucky, you son was giggling happily screaming at you to watch how high he could go. You hated to break your son’s happiness but you know Bucky needed to go.

“you’re going so high baby; say why don’t you and I go inside and check out the rest of the house?” you questioned.

Your son nodded frantically, slowing the swing down with his feet, he jumped from the swing bolting for the front door. Your son entered the home eyes widening, “mommy can I go look?” he questioned you from where you stood with Bucky in the doorway, “sure baby, but before you go, you need to tell daddy bye, he has to go already.” You watched him move forward just as Bucky kneeled his hands wrapping around his neck, “be safe daddy, and please come home, I promise I'll be good for you and mommy,” he said pulling back and placing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. Bucky grabbed his face in his hands, “I promise I’m coming home son, and when I do, me and you are going to spend a whole day out here on the swings, now go on and go look at your new room, I have to say goodbye to mommy before I leave.” Your son gave him one last squeeze before he was running into the house, his squeals of delight sounding through the house.

Bucky stood looking at you, “I’ll be back as soon as all this is over and we’ve taken care of Rumlow.”

You nodded your head, “Please be safe, we both need you to come home to us, I can’t do this without you.”

His hand came up to your cheek, “and I promise you won’t have to, I'll be home sooner than you think,” he assured his thumb running over your skin. Your feet moved your forward, your hands wrapping around him as you pushed yourself into him, though it was awkward Bucky still managed to wrap his arms around you. His lips pressed to your head, “I’m coming home to you and our son doll, and I promise, I won’t ever leave the two of you, ever again.”

You wanted to share those three words with him, the three words that you had longed to say for weeks, but you knew you would need to wait a little longer as Bucky was signaled it was time to go, he was out of time. You watched him walk away from you, you just hoped with every part of your being that this time he would be coming back to you. You watched the cars disappear down the darkened road, looking up to the sky you looked upon the glowing stars and wished.

Just like the first time Bucky had left, James had started to ask if his dad was coming home soon, it wasn’t like the first time, instead of every hour like he had before, now it was once daily every morning that he woke. One week quickly turned to two, and when you were rounding into the third week, you began to worry. There had been no word from anyone, no phone call, no text message, not even a visit since you had arrived to this home. Your mind and body had been restless, the morning of the beginning of week three began the same with James asking you over breakfast if daddy would be home today. You didn’t know what to say anymore, you didn’t want to offer him any broken promises because quite frankly you just didn’t know anymore. While you were tending to the dirty dishes James asked if he could go play outside on the swings for a bit, “of course sweetie, I’ll be out shortly just let me finish up here and I’ll join you, make sure you leave the door open just close the screen behind you,” you reminded him as his feet ran through the house. You went back to the dishes, you found this was the only way to keep your thoughts from running, if you do use solely on one task there was no way your mind could wander away from you.

You were on the last dish when you heard your son screaming for you. His screams of your name were incessant, you dropped the plate into the sink shutting off the water hurriedly as you ran through the living room, and out the door onto the porch. You looked over to your son who was still by the swings, then you saw the unknown car pulling up from a distance.

“James sweetheart run to mommy,” you called worried, “hurry!”

James looked at you with wide eyes and ran for you the fastest his little legs could carry him. The closer the car got the closer you pushed you and James to the door of the house. Your heart was thrumming away in your chest, “mommy I’m scared,” James called from behind your legs.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay mommy’s here,” you hushed.

You watched with baited breath as the car pulled to a stop, the black tint making it hard to see who was inside. You took another step back as the door was swung open, a foot peeked out first. You watched and waited, your heart raced eyes going wide as the person pulled themselves from the car.

“Daddy!” Your son squealed as he bolted past his hiding spot behind the back of your legs racing down the steps and into his fathers awaiting arms. Your legs wanted to give out on you, you held onto the doorway as you looked on at the sign in front of you, your eyes watering. You watched as Bucky lifted James into his arms, shutting the car door with his foot as he made his way over to you. You couldn’t tear your eyes away the closer he drew, until he was inches away from you. “Hey sweetheart,” he murmured a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

You didn’t think twice as you closed the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing into his, “ewwww,” your son squealed, “that’s gross!”

You smiled into the kiss before you were pulling away slightly, you hands came up to cup Bucky’s face in your hands, your fingers roamed the skin there, “you came home,” you whispered through a smile a tear falling from your eye.

Bucky’s finger reached up to wipe it away, “I made a promise doll,”

“Is everyone okay, is he-“ you sucked in a breath, “is he taken care of?”

“Everyone’s okay, no one got hurt,” he reassured, “yeah he was taken care of, we won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“So what’s going to happen now?” You questioned, “what about our home?”

Another smile pulled at Bucky’s lips as his arm wove around your back, pulling you and James closer to him, he placed a kiss to his sons head before he was looking down at you.

“We are home,”he stated, “home for me is wherever the two of your are.”

Another tear fell from your eyes as you leaned up to press your lips to his once more, “I love you,” you whispered into his lips.

“I love you too.”

Wish You Were Here Tag-list: @lovely-geek @scuzmunkie @amanda-the-fangirl @unlistedpond

[oneletteredwondered]

Unbroken

Sum: Reality can become what you dreamed of it.

Pair: Virgil/Remus, Dukexiety

Written for @dukexietyweek! Day 6: High School, continuation of my Day 2: Fairytales, you do not need to read that to understand this one at all.

Warnings: bullying, mentions of toxic parenting: physical abuse, alluded homophobia, nothing graphic or described in depth, swearing, kisses!!!!!!

--

The only reason Virgil doesn’t bang his head on the top of his locker is because he’s already looking down when he's shoved forward. The wind gets knocked out of him as his chest collides with the metal and his book drops from his hands. He glares over his shoulder at the responsible party.

“Watch it.” Remus growls at him and stalks off. Virgil continues to glare for a moment longer as Remus finds his friends and shoves them but far more friendly than he shoved Virgil. Virgil lets out a sigh and picks up his book, grimacing at the bent cover. He places it in his locker and closes the door to let his head rest against the cool metal.

“Are you alright Virgil?” He lifts his head at the question and offers a strained smile to Patton and Logan as they come closer.

“M’fine.” He says quickly. Patton pouts at him.

“Are you sure? That was a pretty rough-”

“I said I’m fine,” Virgil snaps and immediately winces. Luckily Patton just offers him a small smile in understanding. Logan is glaring over to where Remus is.

“Perhaps you should tell someone about his needless bullying of you.” He says. Virgil is already shaking his head before he finishes his sentence.

“Not worth it,” He says lowly. And really it’s not. Remus does far less to him than he could and he surely doesn’t believe the teachers could do anything to stop Remus should they want to.

“I do not understand why you put up with him,” Logan huffs but not unkindly. Virgil just shrugs and pulls his back pack up on his shoulder.

“Why do you put up with him?” Patton asks and the question feels like ice in Virgil's veins. He supposes he can tell them all about how Remus was his first and only friend for years until Remus one day told him he was weird and couldn't play with him any more. How all of Remus’s bright smiles turned to sneers and Virgil never really go to know why either. How sometimes if he catches Remus’s eye late at night across the dirt patch between their two homes Remus will wave sadly with just his fingers and so will his little brother Roman. He could tell them how part of him still hopes that the Remus he knew is still around somewhere lost in the pages of his childish writings.

“I don't know,” Virgil says instead, looking over at Remus and then back down immediately finding Remus already looking back at him.

“I don't know.” And they head to class without another word.

--

The air outside is calming so late at night. The rustle of trees in the distance provides the subtlest of white noise that has Virgil inhaling deep and calming down from his day. Not necessarily a difficult day, but Remus seemed more plucky, picking on him every chance instead of his usual every other chance. Virgil grit his teeth and bore it not knowing what else to do and not wanting to do what Logan suggests.

He made dinner for himself and saved the left overs in the fridge for when his momma gets home from another late shift. Now he’s just trying to enjoy the last of the day sitting in a field of grass and watching the stars and the whisps of clouds. His mind turns tales of the shapes he sees and tries to remember them all to write down later. Old habits die hard he suposses.

He’s nearly ready to go inside when he hears a crash from behind him. He twists in his spot to see the lights on in the house next door. Remus’s house. He’s frozen in his spot as he hears the yelling pick up. It’s muffled by the house but he knows it's angry and not good. Then the back door swings open harshly.

“I don’t fucking care!” Remus shouts and slams the door behind him so hard Virgil is surprised it’s still on it’s hinges. He remains frozen on the ground as Remus tears at his hair and stomps down the back porch steps and into the field. He walks right pass Virgil and farther out into the field where he stops, and screams.

Virgil winces at the noise, very aware how the lights next door are now off and there’s a good chance Remus is not going to be let back inside. It’s happened once before. He keeps still as Remus kicks up the dirt and grass around him, working out his frustrations and muttering incoherent nonsense to himself, when he looks up and locks eyes with Virgil in the grass. Virgil flinches on reflex.

All at once it seems the weight of the world is dropped on Remus's shoulders, his posture deflates and he looks barely held together and quite frankly ready to cry. Virgil has never really seen Remus cry, not in years at least. Something twists in his stomach at the thought of it.

Remus stalks towards him but not in the proud deviant way he would when he wants tp push Virgil around, more resigned to his fate. So instead of running like Virgil normally would in this instance like how his anxiety wants him to, he stays put. He does lean away though when Remus drops next to him, hikes his legs up, and buries his head in his arms.

The silence is somewhat deafening but knowing Remus isn't going to push him or try to hurt him, Virgil slowly stops leaning away from him. They sit in quiet under the cover of darkness, Virgil returning to looking at the stars and the moon and the clouds attempting to cover them.

“You can stay the night,” He offers quietly.

That’s when he hears the gasping inhale next to him.

Virgil looks to the side and sees the shake in Remus’s shoulders, the tremble in his entire body.

Why do you put up with him? Virgil hears Patton ask in his head and Virgil thinks this is why. Because he knows all of Remus’s actions are products of his home life and the way his dad controls him. Because he sees the guilt cross Remus’s face when he pushes Virgil a little too hard. Because Remus lets out a barely audible  ‘I'm sorry’ and Virgil’s heart breaks.

He throws his arms around Remus and is somehow relieved when Remus uncurls to latch onto him in return. He shoves his face into Virgil’s jacket and muffles his cries in the fabric, holding onto Virgil like it’s the last thing holding him to the earth itself. Virgil clings back just as hard trying to convey some sort of stability. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but at least until Remus sobbing has stopped and died out to small hiccups. Virgil refuses to be the first to pull away.

Eventually Remus does and Virgil stands, ignoring the wet spots on his shoulder to give Remus his hand to pull him up. Remus takes it and when he’s standing and following Virgil into the house he doesn’t let go. Virgil isn’t going to tell him to.

He leads Remus up the stairs to his room, turning on a small light in the corner, and leaving Remus in the doorway to go close his blinds decidedly, not wanting to take the chance of Remus’s dad looking in. He finds a oversized shirt and hands it to Remus wordlessly, looking away when Remus just rips off his old shirt without a care. He shrugs off his hoodie with a gross expression at the snot on the sleeves and puts in the laundry basket when Remus speaks.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters. Virgil carefully looks at him, noticing the slump of his body and the way Remus hangs his head.

“It’s okay I can wash it,” Virgil says and Remus shakes his head.

“No I’m.. I’m sorry.” Remus repeats and finally looks up. His eyes are rimmed red from crying. Virgil twists his hands together now getting the point of the apology.

“It’s okay. I mean. Mostly. I get it.” He stutters and Remus shakes his head at him and drops it again. There’s silence then, awkard and tense. Virgil can feel the tension crawling across his skin.

“Is it wrong to like you?” Remus asks bluntly and the tension rises.

“What?” Virgil chokes out. Remus grits his teeth and runs a hand hazardously through his hair.

“Dad just. Always said it was weird or bad and I didn’t. It didn’t feel bad or weird and- and he hit me once and-” Remus lets out a strangled noise as Virgil’s eyes widen. “And I did. I do. Like you and it's. I don't. Is it bad?” Remus snaps his eyes up to stare at Virgil, fresh tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Virgil can't very well breathe.

“I miss you.” Remus says softly and it’s like a dam breaks as he gasps and begins to cry again.

“I miss you so much. Fuck, you were my, are, my best friend and fuck I miss you. I miss you. I-” Remus drops to his knees, hands clawing at his face as he starts to sob again. Virgil doesn't waste anytime sliding to his knees and holding Remus close to him again, and once more Remus clings to him.

“I miss you so much. Fuck I’m so sorry.” Remus garbles out between his gasps. Virgil gently shushes him, forgivness already given in spades in his mind. He knew, knows, about why. He knows a part of him would have always forgiven Remus for this.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you,” Virgil whipsers to him and Remus presses farther into the comfort of his arms. Much sooner than before Remus stops crying, tilting his head to just rest on Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil runs his fingers through Remus’s hair soothingly.

“He said, he said he’d get your mom fired if didn’t stop being friends with you. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what else to do,” Remus admits lowly. Virgil’s blood boils for a moment. Ever since he was little people looked down on his mom for being a single parent not knowing she was taking him away from a household too similar to her own childhood, a place she did not want Virgil growing up in.

“And I didn’t want you to have to leave because your mom couldn't work and I wanted you to stay here so I just. I got so mean to you, and then Roman started to want to wear skirts and dad got meaner and I couldnt-” Remus gasps hard. “I didn't know what to do.”

Virgil holds him, holds him for all the missed out hugs they could have had, all the hours they could have spent together. They sit like that until Virgil’s leg gets stiff and he has to move. They sit criss cross on Virgil’s floor face to face with their knees pressed together. A million thoughts burn through Virgil’s head and a million questions he doesn’t know where to start to ask.

“Remus I-” and Remus kisses him hard enough Virgil almost falls over. His eyes widen and Remus pulls away with a 'pop' that would be comical if Remus didn't immediately look panicked and shove Virgil away from him and spin around to not face him.

“Shit,” Remus curses mostly to himself and smacks his head to his hand, resting his arm on his knee and looking defeated. Virgil blinks dumbly at him as a burst of anxious anticipation bubbles up inside him. He remembers this feeling from when a younger Remus used to kiss his cheek and promise to be his. 

“Remus-”

“Don’t," Remus snaps but doesn't raise his head from it's dropped position. 

“I can handle rejection but please. I can't handle it if you hate me. Hate me more," Remus lets out a bitter sounding scoff and Virgil scrunches up his nose.

“I don't hate you.” He breathes out and if Remus hears him he doesn’t react. He does react, his whole body tensing, when Virgil carefully slides closer to him and reaches out. His fingertips brush Remus’s cheek and Remus flinches back at the touch, finally looking at him, causing Virgil to wince. Still he continues and gently places his hand on Remus’s cheek. Remus leans into the touch, nearly crying again, and it shows Virgil how little Remus has ever received such gentle touches. He wants to give him so much more.

Slowly Virgil leans foward and kisses him far more softly than Remus did. He breathes slowly into the kiss and pulls back soundlessly and the sigh Remus lets out is the most relieved thing Virgil has ever heard. He keeps his hand on Remus’s face and swallows hard, Remus zeros in on the motion and stares at his neck.

“We uh, we have a lot to talk about,” Virgil manages to say. Remus nods minutly.

“Yeah,” He agrees but his eyes haven't left Virgil's neck, or his lips, and to be fair, Virgil is looking back at his in return.

“Can we-”

“Yeah, did you want-”

“Yeah.” This time they meet each other half way. Virgil leans forward a bit more to brace the hand not on Remus’s face on the floor while Remus brings a hand up to tangle in Virgil’s hair and tug at the strands. Some of the emotions Virgil never really knew how to place when thinking about Remus have an outlet and he feels settled knowing where it all belongs.

They kiss until their postions get too uncomfortable which is much sooner than either of them would like. This time it’s Remus who helps Virgil off the ground. Virgil makes sure the curtains are decidedly closed just to be sure and Remus flicks off the small lamp in the corner.

Remus takes his hands and he’s being pulled into another kiss. They curl their fingers together as they continue to test the waters of this new aspect ebtween them.

“We still need to talk about this,” Virgil says in a daze. Remus nods dumbly.

“Yeah of course,” He says and kisses Virgil again. Virgil finds himself smiling into the kiss at the antics. Eventually he does pull back and snorts a laugh when Remus whines.

He crawls into bed and holds the covers up for Remus to crawl in after him. They shift to get comfy, Remus circling both his arms around Virgil's torso and smushing his face into Virgil's chest, while Virgil’s arms go over Remus’s shoulders to hold him close.

They don't talk that night about their relationship or whatever they want to be. Just cuddle each other close and remember what it's like to be with the other. Remus cracks silly jokes and lights up when Virgil laughs, and when Remus yawns and rests on his chest, comfortable and okay, for Virgil, it feels just like a fairytale.

[heylissaaaaa]

Sometimes, Gentle Solace

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader Summary: Steve disappears after a mission Word count: 3.4k Warnings: none, maybe some angst if you squint. Mostly hurt/comfort A/N: Hi friends! This was written for the amazing, fantastic @tilltheendwilliwrite​ ‘s challenge, with the song prompt “You Say” by Lauren Daigle. For reference, if you want it, I imagined the song as Steve’s POV whereas in the fic you get the reader’s. For registered users on AO3, you can also read this here. 

You were at home when you got the call, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine. The phone went off by your elbow, some 8-bit song Bucky had thought was hilarious. He insisted that he be the only one with that ringtone. “Hey, Buck-o,” you said, putting the phone on speaker and dropping it back onto the bed. “I thought you guys wouldn’t be back until later tonight.”

“Is Steve with you?” he asked. He sounded out-of-breath, frantic. You could imagine him pacing, running his hand through his hair.

You paused with a page half turned, looking down at the phone with a frown. “No, he’s not. What’s going on?”

“He’s gone.”

Sitting up, you took the phone off speaker and put it to your ear. “Gone? What the hell do you mean, gone?”

“I mean gone, walked out, left, disappeared without a word.” You could hear how worked up he was getting, and didn’t begrudge him the time he needed to catch his breath. “We came back an hour ago, sat through the debrief, and then went our separate ways to clean up. He didn’t come back for dinner like we usually do. He wasn’t in his room. I asked Friday if he was in the building, she told me to talk to you.”

Your mind was moving so fast it was hard to focus on anything other than gone. It went through the worst-case scenarios first: kidnapped, ambushed, shoved into a van. But if that were true, Tony and Friday would have known about it. Which meant he’d left on his own. “He wouldn’t walk out for no reason. What happened on the mission?”

“You know I can’t-”

“Jesus, Buck, I’m not asking for a play-by-play or anything. Just… was it bad?” you asked, voice going soft.

He was quiet so long you worried the call had dropped. Then there was a sigh, an even quieter, “Yeah. It was bad. Mom and her son got caught in the crossfire. We lost the mom.”

Your heart lurched, eyes heavy. First for that poor family, and then for Steve. And then in clicked. “Candle lighting,” you muttered. No wonder Friday had told him to ask you; you should have known right then what she was getting at. After all, you were the one that insisted Steve have that code with the AI. You thought there should be at least some trace of where he was going, in case something happened. Now that it had, you were a little lost. He’d wanted this to be a secret, and so far, it had been, but this was way off-script. He’d never gone out in the middle of the day, never straight after a mission and never when someone else was waiting on him.

“Candle- what? What does that mean?”

Pushing aside any guilt at betraying his confidence, you knew you were going to need help. This wasn’t in the plans. “I know where he is,” you said. Shutting off the bedroom light, you made your way into the living room, squishing your phone against your cheek with your shoulder while you put on your shoes. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Yeah, sure.” He was hesitant, unsure. You could practically hear the questions swirling in his mind, could picture the furrow of his brow as if he were standing there in front of you. He must have thought better of asking them, or decided to wait until he could do it in person, because all he said was, “I’ll be there in ten.”

You were about to hang up when a thought occurred. “Bucky? Make sure no one else sees you leave,” you said. Friday would clean up after him and keep the team at bay as per your and Steve’s instructions, but it couldn’t hurt to have him try as well. Especially if he were stopped by someone on his way out.

“Why?”

“Just do it. Please.”

True to his word, Bucky let you know he was outside your building almost exactly ten minutes later. You gave him an address, and then the pair of you were silent as you sat in traffic. Lights and street signs went in and out of focus as you stared out the window, willing your heart not to beat straight out of your chest. Your hands were wedged tight between your thighs to keep them from shaking.

There was no doubt in your mind that Bucky could feel your reticence as much as you could feel his eagerness to talk about the address that you’d given him. It only grew as you crossed the bridge, and things started looking more and more familiar.

You saw the moment he realized where you were. “That’s…”

“Yeah, it is.”

Bucky found a miraculous bit of curb out front and wormed his way alongside it. After shutting off the car, all he did was stare out the window at the front steps of the small church. “How did I not know he came here?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

“He didn’t want anyone on the team to know,” you said, looking down at your hands now fidgeting in your lap. You know how it sounded, but it was the only answer you had.

Still, it made you flinch when he snapped, “I’m not just someone on the team!”

“I know that, Buck. And so does he. But this was- this is his. The only reason he told me was because I was worried something was going on behind my back when he’d go dark on me. Radio silence for hours at a time when I knew it wasn’t work-related,” you said. It had been a very guilt-inducing conversation on both sides. No way had you actually believed he’d do anything to hurt you, but sometimes anxiety got the better of your rationality. He’d felt bad for making you worry; you’d felt bad for having gotten him to admit to something he’d wanted secret. “It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, Bucky. He’s always so worried about not being strong for you and the others. I don’t think he understands that he’s allowed to be anything less than Captain America to you guys. You know that about him better than I do.”

“Yeah. Guess I do.” A car up the road honked, and several shouting voices followed. Bucky didn’t speak until they’d faded. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I- I thought he’d be able to trust me with something like this. Especially this.”

You reached across the center console and touched his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me if I didn’t know he trusted you. He trusts you more than anyone else in the world. He’s just a little dumb when it comes to himself.” Bucky grunted out a half-laugh. You unbuckled yourself with your free one.

Easing the church door open to minimize the squeaking of the hinges, your breath caught. Steve was the only one there, sitting in the front left pew, head bowed. The sunlight that poured through stained glass windows reflected off his hair like a halo. He didn’t look up as you poked your head in, so either he knew it was you or he was too far gone to notice an intruder at all. “I need you to wait here,” you murmured, voice still echoing in the stillness of the church. Bucky had followed you up the steps.

A muscle in Bucky’s jaw feathered as he looked past you towards Steve. You knew it was only care and worry for him that made Bucky want to ignore you. But it was that same care that finally had him nodding. “Yeah, alright.”

You hesitated a moment, still facing Bucky. “I don’t… I don’t know what state we’re going to find him in. I don’t know if he’s going to let us help. Follow my lead, okay?”

Bucky blinked rapidly, swallowed twice, and finally turned away from you to wait in the car. You knew how he felt.

The pew creaked when you sat down, too loud in the silence. Now that you were close enough, you could see his lips moving, hear the slightest whisper of words when he exhaled. His hands gripped his knees, eyes shut tight. His lashes were wet, and every few moments new tears followed the trails down his cheeks. You brushed your fingers over the back of the hand nearest to you, holding your breath. After a moment, he turned his hand over so you could weave your fingers between his. His grip was tight, not enough to hurt but enough for him to be sure you were there.

Relief washed through you. When things went wrong, sometimes he wouldn’t let you touch him, wouldn’t let himself touch you. That he would let you hold his hand, that he seemed to need it, reassured you that you’d made the right decision in coming.

“Hey, Stevie,” you murmured. He didn’t answer, the flow of murmuring didn’t break beyond the slight hitch of his breath, but you didn’t expect him to. Looking around the room, your gaze came to rest on the votive candle rack in the far corner. Three candles were lit. “Been awhile since you’ve talked to her. Say hi for me?”

He brushed his thumb over yours.

Very rarely did he come here to take confession, or to sit with a member of the clergy. Most often, he came here to be alone. To seek solace and comfort both in and from his own mind. Sometimes, and with the events of the mission he’d come here because of, he came to do something more specific. This was the church where he buried his mother.

Ten minutes later, his words tapered off into silence.

Before you could start coaxing him out the door, there was something you had to do. “Stevie,” you began. “Bucky’s waiting outside to take us home.” He tensed, and let out a low, distressed noise. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “I know, but he called me to tell me that you’d disappeared. I couldn’t not tell him. Besides, I can’t take you on the subway in your uniform and I don’t have a car. I’m a little surprised you made it here, actually. You’ll have to tell me about it later.”

The huff of laughter was a small victory, even if it ended in a hitched breath. After a minute of debate, you took his face in your free hand but didn’t try to lift it towards you. “This is still your place, you know. There’s just one more person that knows about it now. Bucky is your best friend. He’s not going to think less of you; you know he won’t.” You gave it another moment before you dropped your hand and stood. “Are you ready to go? Or do you want some more time?”

Steve stood up with you, and you were relieved not to see him favoring either side as you left the pew and walked back up the aisle. Bucky was in the car, staring resolutely ahead, while you opened the back door for Steve to get in. You found Bucky’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head and tried not to feel too bad when he frowned. You put your hand over his when you got into the passenger’s seat.

The drive to your apartment was as quiet as the drive to the church had been, something that had never happened when the three of you were in a car together. No bickering over the radio station - you always won - no backseat driving from Steve, and no cursing from Bucky at terrible taxi drivers or pedestrians that never payed attention to the walk sign. Just faint city sounds tempered by the glass of the windows and your collectively held breaths.

When you pulled up in front of your building, Bucky didn’t even try to get out. You helped Steve up the front steps, both his hands clutching one of yours. You stopped on the top step. Letting go of his hand, you put yours up to cup his face. “Go on upstairs, okay? I’ll be right up,” you said. He nuzzled into the soft warmth of your hands for a moment before he turned away and disappeared inside with your keys.

You turned back toward the car, leaning on the open passenger-side window. Bucky was looking over your shoulder, where you were sure Steve had disappeared into the building. “I know that it’s not easy to see him like this, and harder not to do something. But trust me; you’ve been a big help,” you said, moving your head to the side until you caught his eye. “He’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Bucky’s grip relaxed on the wheel, and he slumped in the seat. “Just… just tell him I love him when he comes out of it, okay? Then maybe punch him for scaring the hell outta me.”

The half-smile you knew he forced for you was a small comfort, one you tried to return. “‘Course I will,” you said.

“I’ll let the others know he’s safe, give you guys some space for a while.”

“Thanks.” You stepped away from the car and waited until the brake lights disappeared before you went inside. Bucky would need some comforting of his own after this, so you made a mental note to invite him over for dinner tomorrow night.

Your apartment door wasn’t fully latched when you reached the top of the stairs to your floor. Shutting it tight and locking it behind you, you took a moment to breathe as you leaned against it. There was already a hint of tiredness in your bones, your body craving to melt into a puddle on the floor as the adrenaline of finding Steve and getting him back here wore off. But there were things you needed to do first.

Steve’s boots were already lined up against the wall, your keys in the dish on the counter, but the man was nowhere in sight. You went through your apartment, making sure the curtains were shut against the afternoon light. From the kitchen you grabbed a bottle of water and a granola bar before making your way down the hall.

He was standing in the middle of the bathroom when you entered, looking at his reflection in the mirror but not seeing it. He hadn’t removed any other part of his uniform, hadn’t made any attempts to start cleaning himself up, but then you hadn’t expected him to. That wasn’t how this went.

You set your items down on the edge of the sink and he reached for them with mechanical movements. Both the bottle of water and the bar were gone by the time you’d filled up the tub. Steve had begun watching you move around the small space, grabbing towels and a change of clothes from out in the bedroom. When you were finished, you helped him out of his uniform and into the warm water.

He was still holding your hand as he settled in, so you knelt down by the edge of the tub. “Have to get you cleaned up, Stevie. You want me to stay out here while we do that?”

His fingers loosened around yours and for a moment you thought he’d let go, which you hadn’t expected. But then they tightened and he was pulling you toward him. “Okay, alright. Let me go for a second,” you said. You could feel the reluctance in his hand to part with yours, still touching as much as he dared with the pads of his fingertips even after he let you go. Undressing quickly, you stepped over the side of the tub and knelt between his knees so that you faced him. His hands came up to rest on the outside of your thighs, but you knew it was only because he couldn’t hold your hands anymore.

In the stark light of the bathroom, you finally looked him over. A bruise was fading over his left cheekbone, and there was a streak of blood going up into his hairline. If there had been a cut there, it was healed enough to be unnoticeable. He seemed no worse for wear, but you still asked, “Does it hurt anywhere else? Anything I should be careful around?”

He shook his head but it was slow, hesitating. You waited, until finally he took your hand and placed in over his right side underneath the water, just at the bottom of his ribs. “Anything broken?” you asked. He shook his head. “Just bruised?” A nod. “Okay. That’s good.”

After that, the bathroom was quiet except for the splashing of water and your murmured directions. Tip your head back, baby. Lift your arms up a little now. Lean forward for me. His movements started quick, jerky. Water splashed over the side of the tub when he lifted his leg too fast. But as you dragged a washcloth over his skin, ran your fingers through his hair, he calmed. He became slower, languid. Towards the end, he even helped rinse himself off. He met your eyes easier, too, when you stepped out of the tub first and dried off with one of the towels. When you prompted him to do the same, he did it on his own.

Tub drained, towels hung up, and both of you dressed in the softest clothes you owned, you led him by the hand back out into the bedroom. He stood taller now, not trying to fold in on himself. Something in your chest loosened when he almost returned the smile you gave him. “You want to go sit on the couch, or do you want to get into bed?” you asked.

He took the lead and tugged you over to your bed, waiting at the foot of it for you to put away the magazine still laying open and pull back the covers. He got in first, laying on his side facing the wall while you wrapped yourself around his back. Cradling him into you, you ran a hand over his chest in slow passes. As the last vestiges of tension left his body, as he sunk into the bed and into your arms, you couldn’t help pressing your forehead into his back.

Your heart broke for him in these moments, but they also gave you great comfort. That you could do this for him, that you could give him this, meant everything to you. There was one more thing to do before you both drifted to sleep for a few hours. “I know you did as much as you could today, Stevie. And it was enough. Bucky told me you saved a little boy today; I’m so proud of you. And I’m proud that you let us help you when you’re struggling. You’re so strong, baby. Even when you don’t feel like it. I’ll be here to remind you, every damn time.” When you heard the first sniffle, felt the first shudder under your fingertips, you pulled him closer to your chest and kissed his shoulder.

The next time you awoke, it was almost dark in the room. The two of you had shifted in your sleep so that now you lay with your back to his chest. It was warm in the room with both the blanket and Steve wrapped around you, and one of your arms was asleep. You tried to move as slowly and delicately as possible to get comfortable without waking your bed partner. Steve let out a breath that tickled the back of your neck and you squirmed in his arms. It earned you a huff of laughter. “You’ve been awake this whole time! Just watching me struggle,” you accused in a whisper.

“It was cute,” he said, his voice cracking from disuse. You wiggled again until he relented and lifted his arm so you could turn around and face him. He was staring at you, eyes soft. “Hi you.”

“Hey Stevie.” You reached up to run a hand through his hair, pushing away from his face. “How are you feeling?”

He nudged your hand, now still in his hair, so that you continued making gentle passes with your nails. “I’m okay, better.” His own hand reached up between you so that he could cup your cheek. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[hysterialevi]

Hagall - A Sigurd/Male Eivor Fanfic

**SPOILERS FOR SUTHSEXE ARC BELOW**

Fanfic summary: After rescuing Sigurd from Fulke's cruelties, Eivor works on helping his brother recover from his trauma.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

KINGDOM OF SUTHSEXE

BAELFRITH

Hair as red as fire. Eyes as cold as ice. A wrath that burned brighter than Surtr’s mythical sword.

The Saxons watched in terror as the Norse warrior carved his way through their settlement, tearing apart its very foundation in an attempt to find the woman who took his arm.

He shouted in a Devilish tongue that none of them understood, and with every guardsman that he cut down, the more the ground seemed to vanish underneath a new layer of blood.

There were fresh corpses scattered all over the village, and due to the flames that ravaged the settlement, most of its people now lay buried beneath a tombstone of ash, their faces frozen in fear as the world around them burned like a pyre.

It was Hell on earth, and only one man had caused it.

“BRING ME FULKE!” The viking roared above all the chaos, swinging his sword into another guard as he headed for the longhouse. “I know she’s here!”

Stomping his way up the hill that led to the longhouse’s entrance, the Norse refused to stop for anything as he stormed through a crowd of terrified civilians, all of them scurrying away in fear upon noticing his presence.

“Flee, everyone!” A Saxon man yelled in horror. “Flee for your lives! The Devil himself is in Baelfrith!”

Ignoring the panicked screams of the villagers, the viking continued on his fervent path for vengeance and planted a firm foot in the door of the longhouse, breaking it free from its hinges as it wildly swung open.

There were only a few people inside -- most notably, the thegn of this settlement -- and with no one around to stop him, the viking hurried into the building, ready to get the information he needed.

Just before he could progress however, a familiar voice called out to the Norse, halting him in his tracks.

“Sigurd!” Eivor exclaimed, jogging up to the man. “Wait!”

The viking turned around to face his brother, his gaze still wild from the recent battle.

“What is it?” He asked sharply, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Eivor furrowed his brow in concern, unable to hide the worry he felt.

“I just...” the younger man took a breath, trying to calm himself down, “...I want you to think about this, brother. Are you certain this is what you want to do? Interrogating Aldrich, I mean.”

The older man obviously didn’t share his partner’s skepticism. “Why wouldn’t it be? Thegn Aldrich can tell us where Fulke is hiding. He’s protecting her. I know he is.”

Eivor’s fear quickly turned into frustration. “And you really think he’s going to help us? After we just burned down his settlement and slaughtered his people? I love you, Sigurd, but this...” he gestured at the destruction around them, “this is not who you are.”

Sigurd stepped closer to Eivor, his figure towering over him.

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He said lowly. “We are warriors, Eivor. Sons of Odin. We are born and bred for Valhalla. We do not cower in the shadows like a rat, or hide in the grass like a snake! Fulke wrought every conceivable violation upon me, and so I will not rest until I throw her into the jaws of Garmr myself!”

Sigurd leaned forward, his voice rumbling like magma in his throat. “Either lend me your aid now, or return to Ravensthorpe. I will collect Fulke’s head, with or without you.”

The younger man shook his head in disapproval. “...There is no honor in this, Sigurd. You know that. You are not a barbarian, nor are you a murderer. But you are blinded by your hatred. Listen to me--” Eivor gripped him by the shoulders, “--Fulke isn’t worth it!”

His brother scoffed, shrugging his hands off. “You really think you can judge me? Or must I remind you of all the years you spent seeking revenge against Kjotve? What about when you endangered your crew simply to go after him? My methods may be brutal, Eivor, but do not pretend that you would not replicate them. Your claim to a virtuous disposition is meaningless, for we both know you are no better.”

Eivor sighed in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I know this isn’t worth it! My hatred for Kjotve tore me apart for years, Sigurd. It led me down a path that changed me for the worse, and I do not wish to see you lose yourself either.”

“You weren’t there, Eivor!” Sigurd insisted. “You did not see what Fulke did to me. She...” the man paused for a moment, trying to hold himself together, “...she took... everything from me. My strength, my dignity, my freedom. Fulke is nothing more than a witch in human form, and honor demands that I bring her to retribution. You can fight by my side, or watch from the shadows like a coward. It matters not.” He threw a cautionary glare at the other man. “But do not get in my way.”

Standing there in silence, Eivor watched hopelessly as his brother lost himself in his rage, consumed by a hatred that no one in their clan had ever seen before. He knew the man was hurting inside, and he knew it wasn’t Sigurd’s fault, but to see him lash out in such a violent manner... it broke Eivor’s heart.

Sigurd was a good man. A good leader. He cared deeply for his people, and had already sacrificed so much to keep them afloat. But to witness him undo all of his work in the name of killing Fulke -- a single woman -- Eivor knew he had to stop him sooner or later.

He did not want to fight against Sigurd as Valka predicted he would, but for his brother’s own sake, he feared he would have no choice.

Noticing the abrupt shift in his brother’s mood, Sigurd felt a sudden sense of guilt clutching at his chest as he took on a gentler tone, uttering a brief apology.

“F-Forgive me, my love...” he whispered, “that was... unworthy of me. I apologize. But I fear my point still stands. I can’t just walk away from this. I...” Sigurd glanced down at his amputated arm, doing his best to block out the abhorrent memories that came with it, “...I need to kill Fulke.”

Eivor sighed in defeat, not wishing to argue with his brother any further. “...If that’s truly what you wish, then I will stand by you, Sigurd. All the way to the end.” He placed a hand on the man’s cheek, gazing at him affectionately. “But please... do not forget who you are.”

Sigurd nodded reassuringly. “I won’t.”

Returning to the task at hand, the older man separated their embrace and brought his attention back to the longhouse, eager to get some answers from Thegn Aldrich as Eivor followed from behind. 

At the moment, the elderly nobleman was cowering behind the safety of his throne and had no more than a pitiful dagger to defend himself, somehow enhancing his already pathetic display.

Most of the civilians who once stood by his side had fled the safety of the longhouse, and the closer Sigurd got to him, the more Aldrich’s grasp on the dagger seemed to shake.

“No!” The Saxon cried out in fear. “Leave me be, Dane! Stay back!”

The thegn wildly swung his blade in an attempt to cut Sigurd, only to receive a fist to the face when the viking swatted the weapon out of his grip.

The dagger went flying off to the side and landed on the stone floor with a metallic clang, leaving Aldrich completely defenseless as he backed away from the Norse in panic.

“Filthy fucking pagan...!” He hissed under his breath. “Rendering a man defenseless in his own home -- slaughtering innocents! God will see you punished for your sins, Dane! Whether you believe in Him or not, He will condemn you and all your kind to Hell for the suffering you’ve inflicted on our people! You will--”

“--Enough of your piety!” Sigurd barked, striking the thegn once again.

Eivor flinched at the aggressive action, having to restrain himself from interfering.

“Brother...!” He warned in a hushed tone, causing Sigurd to glare at him.

“Stay out of this, Eivor.” He demanded before returning his focus to the thegn. “...Tell me where Paladin Fulke is! I know you’re hiding her!”

Aldrich stammered out a response. “M-Madwoman Fulke? That’s why you’re here? You wish to find her?”

Sigurd prowled closer to the Saxon, staring him down as a lion would its prey.

“I wish to kill her.”

The nobleman glowered at that. “Lord above... you Northmen and your thirst for violence. Is it any wonder that England crumbles under the hardships of war? We should’ve set you heathens to the torch the minute you set foot on our shores.”

Sigurd instantly raised his sword up to Aldrich’s throat, holding it dangerously close to his skin.

“Watch... your tongue, Saxon. Lest I tear it out through your teeth. Now, tell me where Fulke is! I grow weary of your rambling.”

Still, Aldrich remained obstinate. “That heretic is far away from here, and safely in the hands of God. She is to be tried by true Christians, and brought to justice in an appropriate manner. I will not let her fate fall into the hands of a bunch of barbarians!”

Sigurd gently pressed the blade into his neck, applying just enough pressure so that a few beads of blood began to form.

“...It’s not your decision to make.”

Aldrich nailed his gaze onto the sword, his teeth starting to chatter as small droplets of blood trickled down his skin.

“And who are you to decide, Dane? You who walks among the hellfire. What makes you think you’re any more suited?”

Sigurd grinned darkly. “Is the fate of your own life not already in my hands?”

When the thegn offered nothing but silence in return, the redheaded Norse took a few steps forward, carrying on with his interrogation.

“This is your last chance, Aldrich. Tell me where to find Paladin Fulke, and I might leave enough of a body for your kin to bury. Otherwise, I will personally see to it that my skalds use your bones to beat their war drums. Your head will adorn the tallest pike in my village, and I will spread your lungs into wings so that you may fly with the same birds that feast on your corpse.”

“Sigurd...!” Eivor said once again, causing the man to sigh in frustration.

“What?” He snapped.

“What are you doing?” The younger man questioned. “This is not who we are!”

The viking ignored his brother’s pleas, growing tired of their quarrel. “Enough, Eivor! You may be my brother, but do not forget who is jarl! My word is law, and if I wish for someone to be killed, I expect you to help me swing the sword! Now for the last time, stay out of this...!”

Sigurd turned to Aldrich, impatiently awaiting the man’s reply.

“And you! What say you? Will you tell me where Fulke is? Or shall I take my axe to your spine?”

The Saxon scowled at the Norse, refusing to give in.

“...Devil take you, Dane.” He spat at Sigurd’s feet.

The Norse warrior chuckled at the gesture, his temperament alarmingly calm.

“A foolish idea, thegn.”

Deciding not to hold back anymore, Sigurd suddenly threw a punch at Aldrich’s face and knocked the man flat on the ground, continuing to beat the Saxon as he helplessly crawled away.

“Sigurd!” Eivor blurted out in shock, unsure of what to do.

But the viking didn’t stop. Instead, he simply approached Aldrich and carried on with his assault as the thegn desperately tried to get back up on his feet, latching onto any piece of furniture that would support his weight.

“Sir Regnward...!” The Saxon shouted, calling out to his housecarl. “Cut this Dane down immediately! I want him killed!”

There was no answer.

“Sir Regnward!” Aldrich repeated in his absence, his voice trembling now. “For God’s sake, Cedric, where are you...?!”

Sigurd planted a boot on top of the thegn’s hand, grinding it into the floor.

“Your housecarl is dead, thegn!” He exclaimed, his tone dripping with venom. “He lies outside with a sword buried in his heart, just as you soon will.”

The Saxon whimpered under the pressure of Sigurd’s boot, frantically trying to wiggle his way out of the man’s hold, but to no avail.

“Please...!” He begged, his jaw clenched in agony. “Leave me be...! There’s nothing more I can offer you!”

Sigurd crouched on the floor, staring at Aldrich directly in the eye. “Are you as dense as you are cowardly? Tell me where Fulke is, and all this stops. It’s a simple concept, really.”

But still, the Saxon refused. “If I tell you, they’ll have me hanged!”

“And if you don’t,” The Norse growled, “I’ll do worse.”

Leaning closer to the thegn as he crushed the man’s hand, Sigurd prepared to punch Aldrich again and clenched his fist, only to find himself being dragged away from the Saxon when Eivor suddenly decided to intervene.

“Sigurd!” The younger man said. “Enough!”

The redheaded viking regained his footing, glaring furiously at his brother.

“Eivor! How many times must I tell you to stay out of it?”

“As many as you wish,” he replied, “but regardless, I cannot just stand by and do nothing while you torment these people! We will find Fulke, brother, but not like this. Not ever like this.”

Eivor turned to the fallen Saxon, gesturing to the longhouse’s ruined door.

“Take what people you have left and flee, thegn. There is nothing more for you in Baelfrith.”

Aldrich pushed himself off the floor and gripped his hand in a nursing hold, nodding appreciatively at his savior.

“Bless you, Dane. Bless you...!”

“Do not mistake my mercy for acceptance. If I see you or any of your other people near our clan after this, you won’t be walking away next time.”

It pained Eivor to speak to a defenseless man in such a way, but for the sake of not completely throwing his loyalty for Sigurd out the window, he figured he had to prevent the Saxons from seeking vengeance somehow.

“Oh, you won’t,” Aldrich promised. “I swear it.”

Scurrying off without another word said, the lone thegn hurriedly made his way out the longhouse as Eivor stayed behind, standing amidst all the chaos his brother had sowed.

He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing, allowing Aldrich to escape. The man appeared sincere enough in his promise to leave the Raven Clan alone, but as past experiences would have taught Eivor, no one could be trusted in a time of war.

For all he knew, the thegn could’ve been planning for revenge. He had enough survivors to rally a small fyrd, and it didn’t seem entirely impossible that the man would attempt some sort of retaliation.

Still, despite his uncertainties, the young viking was glad to have prevented further bloodshed. There was no love lost between him and self-righteous Saxons, but regardless, Eivor did not wish to see anymore unnecessary death.

There had been far too much of it already.

Turning back to address his brother, Eivor halted in his steps when he found the sullen man sitting quietly on Aldrich’s throne, his head hanging low in despondency. 

His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and the closer Eivor walked to the solemn jarl, the more he was able to see the exhaustion creasing his lover’s face.

Sigurd didn’t look well at all. 

A grim shadow seemed to loom over the man’s conscience like a dark cloud, and with the sound of wild flames crackling outside, Eivor only wondered how long it would be until Sigurd’s actions reflected the little sanity he preserved.

“Sigurd...?” He said worriedly, kneeling in front of the man so that he was eye-level with him. “Are you well, brother?”

The forlorn viking glanced up at Eivor, his expression heavy with remorse. There was no longer any strength in his face as there was before, and the dark circles outlining his sockets only seemed to harden his gaze.

“...What’s happening to me, Eivor?” Sigurd whispered, his tone devoid of any emotion. “That woman, Fulke... she turned me into a monster.”

The younger man cupped his partner’s face in his hands, looking at him affectionately.

“No, Sigurd...” Eivor comforted, “you are not a monster. Nor are you a saint. You are only human. Like the rest of us.”

The other man chuckled morosely at the statement. “...Human. If only you knew the irony of your words, brother. Fulke spent all our time together trying to convince me otherwise. She believes I am born of the gods. One of the... Ancient Ones. She believes that--”

“--What Fulke believes doesn’t matter.” Eivor insisted. “She’s a madwoman, Sigurd. A snake. And she will do anything she can to twist your mind, regardless of the cost.”

Eivor caressed Sigurd’s cheek, attempting to console the older man.

“But hear me when I say this. No matter how you see yourself, Sigurd -- no matter how long it takes for you to recover from this pain -- remember, you will always be someone who’s cherished among our clan. You will always be my most trusted friend, and my most loved companion.”

Eivor placed a kiss on the other man’s lips, afterwards resting the bridge of his nose against Sigurd’s.

“I love you. And don’t you ever forget that.”

Sigurd brought a hand up to one of Eivor’s arms, holding him gently in place.

“Freyja knows I don’t deserve you.” He replied softly. “After everything I’ve done, I’m not certain I deserve anyone.”

“Don’t say that,” Eivor reassured. “There is still hope for you, Sigurd. You’re not beyond redemption yet. But I can’t heal you by myself. Ultimately, your own recovery rests with yourself in the end.”

The younger man stepped back and rose from the floor, reaching a hand out to Sigurd.

“But I won’t abandon you. From here to Valhalla, I’ll always be at your side.”

The older man grabbed Eivor’s hand, pulling himself up from the throne as the two of them savored a brief moment of peace.

“I know,” Sigurd said earnestly. “And I won’t disappoint you, my love. I promise.”

Walking alongside each other, the peculiar couple removed themselves from the morbid scene and returned to the hellfire outside, prepared to face whatever threats awaited them in the chaos.

By now, the ferocious flames had dug into the very heart of Baelfrith and consumed its soul, leaving nothing but a sea of fire that drowned everything in its path.

There were golden specks of light flickering throughout the pillars of smoke, and with nothing more than a pile of corpses to commemorate the life that once thrived in this settlement, Eivor felt a new sense of grief tugging at his conscience.

All this destruction, all this ruin... it was entirely their fault. So many innocent lives had been condemned within a single day, and the blood would forever stain their hands.

But despite the tragedy, Eivor knew he couldn’t give up. Sigurd’s old self was barely hanging by a thread at the moment, and the younger man feared he would fall without someone there to help guide him.

So, without saying a word, Eivor simply reached over and took his lover’s hand into his grasp, holding him close as they traversed through the flames. 

He didn’t know how he was going to help Sigurd recover from his pain, or the torment that Fulke put him through, but one thing was for certain.

Fulke was going to have to kill Eivor if she ever intended laying her hands on Sigurd again. He would always protect that man at all costs, no matter what happened, and even if it meant he would lose his own life, he was prepared to defend Sigurd. 

All the way to the end.

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 39)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5

Part 40: here

...

LEWIS POV

Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught.  Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail.  He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks. 

...

A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.

“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”

“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing…”

“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”

“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”

 “I’m sorry Arthur.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”

Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.   

“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…” 

“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”

Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis. 

“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”

“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”

“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ” 

...

 It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.  

When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.

…

…

…

Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.

…

…

This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.

Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.

When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.

“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”

Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.

“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”

Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”

“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”

Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”

“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.  

Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.

“I said I’m fin….wait.”

 Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.

“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.

Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.

Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.

“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.

“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”

Silence.

“Lunch?”

“…”

“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”

More silence hangs between them.  

“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert. 

“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day. 

Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”

“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room.  “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”

 “Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.

“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”

“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”

Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”

Arthur tenses.

“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”

“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.

“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak?  ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me!  What could possibly be more important than your health.”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”

Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues.  “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”

The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”

A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.

“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.

Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.” 

Arthur flinches.

A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”

“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and will.”

“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”

“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”

“But….”

“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.

Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.

No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier.  They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help.  Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything.  Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did. 

There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.

“What.”

Mystery just cocks his head to the side.

“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.

Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real. 

The real world was still out there. 

None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten. 

“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.

“I’ll find you, Lewis…”

For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.

“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”

…

…

…

The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.

...

...

...

“DAMNIT!”

He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.

“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”

Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance. 

“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”

Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.

“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.

 Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.

None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.

Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.

..

NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.  

Part 40: here