#she's done so much shit in all her time being alive she's passed the bar at least once................

[oc-cinematic-universe]

literally sat bolt upright in bed in a confused daze because, while my thoughts were wandering while trying to sleep, i remembered dara becomes a lawyer and it surprised me so much i woke up

[factorialsotherfandoms]

So um I wrote about xcom!Chayanne yesterday and I don't have the energy to do his whole rescue and I'm not in the mood to hurt him as much as something before that would need, but also idk about you but **I** need some follow up from that. Get the baby a hug.

TW: badly injured child, referenced child abuse, hospital setting, talk about a child very nearly dying (in the past)

Philza knew it wasn't good - he'd seen the poor kid pass out, for fuck's sake - but he had not quite realised how bad it was. He hadn't been working with the sort of tech the infirmary has, too focused on keeping the two kids alive to think about the implications of their injuries.

The tablet Doctor Ruiz hands him, though... One kid - the one currently curled up with Roier as they both sleep off their injuries - he knew about. The broken bones about match what he predicted, looking at the poor sod. There's a worrying amount of head trauma, yes, but bar an inability to talk the kid had seemed alert and aware. Bit hard to tell with children, but he'll hopefully be fine.

It's the second he worries about; he had not even realised the kid was injured until he passed out in Missa's arms and, fuck, Philza doesn't think he'll ever be able to forgive himself for that. The scars, the cuts... the last of their splash potions hadn't woken him, but had at least closed up the wounds and bought some colour back to the kid's cheeks.

He'd known it was bad, he had, he swears, but this... The scar pattern, the slightly sticky marks on his chest, the breaks in his ribs... Not just current ones, either, but on the x-rays he can see evidence of them having been broken before. Similar places, too.

There are other scans, too, ones of a sort that Philza does not understand. They show the child's organs, presumably damage to them, but he really wouldn't know.

They still don't scare him as much as the x-rays of his ribs, if only because he only understands the latter; he flicks back to them, and stares in horror.

"Is that...?" he hands the tablet back to her - he isn't a doctor, he could be wrong, he just picks shit up here and there.

Her face is grim as she nods.

"Fucking hell," he breathes the word out; it makes a lot of sense, now, why she had insisted on this boy being on a bed alone, surrounded by wires and monitors instead of letting Missa hold him. "Do we know what happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," she says, folding her arms around the tablet and clinging to it. "If I had to guess, shock from one of the scarring injuries. His biology is... Strange, though - human blood is compatible, at least, and his vitals are stable. I have no idea if they are /good/, but they are stable."

"Will he be okay?" he asks.

"I..." it's never a good thing when the doctor fucking hesitates to answer that question. "If he heals like a human and my guess is correct? Yes. If not, it is outside my expertise."

Philza takes a deep breath, calms himself, and nods, "thanks for the update."

She nods, "I'll get started on the reports; I just thought you'd like to know."

"Oh I fucking hate it," he replies. "But it's better than not knowing; you handle the reports, I'll keep an eye on the kid."

She nods, and vanishes.

And, fuck, how is he going to tell Missa? The man's already attached, and it's not an easy thing to tell someone - 'oh, yeah, that kid we rescued? His heart stopped recently enough his ribs have barely started healing from being broken during CPR, and he still had gunk from a fucking heart monitor on him. Also? Not the first time it's happened'.

Philza runs his hands over his face and, fuck, he wishes he had made that bitch /suffer/. For all her talk of honour, she'd done her fucking best to murder a /child/.

It's too late now, already dead under Jaiden's knife, but fuck he wants her to suffer more. The kids are, what, ten? Something like that?

And don't try tell him that it wasn't the Assassin - Philza /knows/ swords, and hers are a perfect match for the scars and wounds littered all over the poor boy's skin.

Given the chance to fight her again, he'd rip her apart with his bare fucking hands. Or, let Cellbit do it at least. He does have more the talent for it these days.

But, there's not much to be done, not now. The Assassin is dead, and the kid is in an actual fucking infirmary. Jaiden and Roier both need to stay, to the concern and delight of the other little boy, while after getting patched up Missa and Philza elected to stay with this one. Cellbit's off somewhere - probably struggling to pull things from the archive with one arm in a cast - and Etoiles elected to get some fucking sleep.

It seems like a good idea.

Philza doesn't think he can, not without nightmares of a little boy bleeding to death, alone and scared, in a prison cell.

Or stabbed again - Missa did say both boys had tried to fight the Assassin; for all Philza admires their persistence, fighting back on the wounds they have, he's fucking terrified for them.

And, thinking of Missa, the man is waking up. Philza turns his attention there, watching him get up.

"Hey Missa," he smiles over, but he knows it looks thin.

He gets a smile back, as Missa scoots himself up to sitting.

The smile falls as soon as Missa lays eyes on the kid in the bed.

"How is he?"

"He had to be resuscitated."

Philza realises his mistake as he sees absolute terror consume Missa's features, and a terrified whine.

"Not today!" he clarifies, quickly, loudly. "Jesus fuck, I would have woken you if it was today. Sorry, sorry - recently, though, his ribs are still fucked up. Maybe a few days ago? Week at most?"

The whine turns from terror to heartbreak, Missa scrambling over with his too-long limbs. He picks up the boy's hand, clinging to it and muttering rapidly in Spanish.

Philza doesn't try to translate, not when the kid is obviously the one addressed - if anyone at all.

"Fuck, Missa, it wasn't even the first time either. Doc says he'll be fine so long as he heals like a human - and he's got human blood and human organs so we should be okay - but, fucking hell mate, I just..."

What does Philza even say? He permits the words to vanish into Missa's whine.

He reaches across, resting his hand atop Missa's. It takes the man a little bit to stop whining and ask "do we know why?"

"Not really," Philza feels his grimace. "We're hoping shock from the other injuries. It's bad, but now they're healed or healing... Easiest shit to fix, out of the options. Can't see anything else, doesn't mean there isn't."

There's another pained noise from Missa. Philza reaches up, absently wiping at his tears as he looks away to the boy's face. It takes a bit for Missa to collect himself up, clinging to the boy's hand and brushing his hair from his face.

"He's safe now?" Missa asks.

"He's safe," Philza confirms. "And once he's better, we'll find somewhere safe for him to stay."

It's a long shot, but they have some ideas of places safer than an airship full of the government's most wanted, at least.

Missa's fussing also seems to have awoken the boy; Missa startles, and turns to him, and when Philza's eyes follow he sees the little red flames in place of eyes watching them both.

Missa speaks something soothing in Spanish; Philza is still too furious to speak calmly enough for an injured and probably scared child.

The boy tries to sit up, only to flinch; Philza catches him, and helps him back down. Across the room he catches Doctor Ruiz's eye - she just gestures for him to go ahead and returns to her paperwork.

"Hey now," he tries to be gentle, but his voice is not really having it. "Lay back down. Your friend is just over there, see?"

The kid turns his head, and does relax a little when he spots the other boy. He still does not speak, glancing around but always returning to Philza and Missa.

"You're safe here," Missa promises. "Philza and I won't let anyone hurt you."

The kid glances between them; Philza tries to back Missa up with a nod.

He looks... confused, more than anything, glancing back at the other child, then at the adults. It takes a little bit, before he raises his arms and...

"Oh..." Philza whispers.

Missa leans down first, doing his best to avoid any of the wires or tubes surrounding the boy.

Philza follows a bit later, putting one arm across Missa's back and, with a lack of space, brushes a the child's hair with the other.

"We fucked her up," Philza promises. "She won't be hurting anyone again."

The boy does not stay awake long, his body brutalised and exhausted. Within moments of the hug starting he has fallen back asleep. Both Philza and Missa are reluctant to let go, but know that they must.

Missa sings lullabys, the music keeping Philza more to the present. He does not have much of a singing voice, so he fetches blankets instead, hoping the pressure will be comforting to the boy.

"He just wanted a hug," Missa's voice is broken. "Phil, Phil, he just- just a hug..."

Philza's own heart is a ruin, too; he opens his own arms up, and gestures Missa over. He wraps his friend in his arms, lets him cry into his shoulder.

If he also cries into Missa's hair, then it is his secret to tell.

[lawsend]

Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 5

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here).

Pairings: Riley x Liam (past, sort of). Riley x Drake (future potentially), Riley x Max (he wishes)

Word Count: 2,431

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found on my main blog @angelasscribbles here is the Master List.

Riley leaned in close to Max as they entered the bar, “He’s a source, I need to flirt with him for information so make yourself scarce.”

“I’ll be at the bar if you need me.” Not that she would. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. But he didn’t want to leave her alone at night in a bar…even one filled with cops.

The Beat was a hidden gem. A dingy hole in the wall from the outside, a drab exterior graced by a small rusted tin sign, easily missed amongst the shops and eating establishments that crowded the rest of the block.

Inside, the place was alive with activity. To the right as patrons entered the front door, a highly polished bar stretched halfway down the length of the room, curving around at both ends. A big screen TV on the wall above the bar was tuned to ESPN. Bottles clanked as the bartender served drinks and the hum of twenty different conversations floated across the open area.

As Max detoured for the bar itself, Leo guided Riley to a table near the back. He wasn’t even seated before a waitress appeared at his side, “Hey Leo, Riley. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Riley arched an eyebrow at her companion, “You really have been here before! You must be a regular if Siobhan knows your name.”

“I used to be a regular,” he grunted as he waved away the drink menu, “The usual.”

“You got it sugar,” the waitress winked at him before turning to Riley, “What are you having tonight?”

After they gave their drink order and Siobhan left to fill it, Riley focused her attention on Leo, “Okay. You promised me details about the case so start spilling.”

“No, no, no, Ms. Brooks, nothing is free in this life. The price for what I know is you telling me what’s going on with you and my brother, remember?”

“I remember. But I’m not very trusting, so you first.” She sat a recording device on the table between them, pushed play, and looked at him expectantly.

Leo threw his head back with a laugh, “All right. I see how it is. You don’t trust the disgraced cop that you just met fifteen minutes ago. Fair enough.”

Leo passed along the information that he had gleaned from his interrogation while Riley furiously scribbled notes.

They discussed the case as the waitress came and went. When everything else had been covered, Riley asked, “What’s your connection to Katie Sloan?”

Leo nearly dropped his drink, “What makes you think I have-“

“Your entire demeanor changes when you mention her. You flirt shamelessly with the waitress and you’ve been eye fucking the blond at the table behind us for the last ten minutes, but when you talk about Kaite, there’s a tenderness in your tone and you keep steering the conversation away from her every time she comes up.”

“You really don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“I try not to. I’d be a pretty shitty reporter if I didn’t notice details.”

“Listen. Katie and I have a past and I don’t want to-“

“You want me to tell you intimate details about my personal life, I expect the same level of transparency from you.”

“Shit,” he stared at his beer bottle as he fidgeted with the corner of the label, “I just don’t want a hatchet job done on her in the paper.”

“I understand and if you’re worried about her being slut shamed for cheating on her husband, well I won’t do that but if she murdered a man-“

“She didn’t!”

“Leo, all the details are going to be public soon enough then every paper in the state will be reporting on it. I’m your best chance at spinning a more positive image for her and mitigating the fallout. Her husband is going to find out. There’s no way Liam isn’t going to bring both her and him in for questioning and you know it.”

“Fine,” he leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair, “We dated briefly several years ago, before she hooked up with that Trent guy. That’s our connection.”

“That’s not why you were threatening him.”

Leo heaved a loud sigh, “No it wasn’t. Damn, you’re better at this than the cops, girl.”

“So, tell me why you were threatening him.”

“Can you promise me you won’t make Katie look like a horrible person in your story?”

“I can promise to do my best to spin her in the best possible light and minimize the damage, but I’m in the business of reporting the facts.”

“Fair enough I guess.”

When Leo was finished telling Riley the same basic facts he’d told Liam he sat his beer on the table in front of him with a thunk and gave her a pointed look, “Now I believe you owe me the story of why you showing up at the precinct rattled my brother so much.”

“Because something happened between us that he’s trying to convince himself he regrets.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“He thinks I used him. Seduced him just to get confidential information for a story I was working on.”

“And did you do that?”

“No! Well…kind of…”

“So, which is it? Yes, or no? There doesn’t seem to be much room for grey area here.”

“Yes, I knew who he was, and he had no idea who I was. Yes, I targeted him specifically because he was the detective assigned to the case I was covering-“

“Starting to sound a lot like Liam was right…”

“No! I don’t have sex with sources in exchange for information. I will, however, flirt shamelessly. You’d be surprised how much information I can get out of a man just by showing him a little attention.”

“No, I would not,” Leo smirked as his eyes ran down her body.

“Anyway….” she rolled her eyes as she shifted in her seat, “My plan was to do a little flirting to see what I could shake loose. Get him to drink with me. Drunk people talk more. But your brother was an impossible nut to crack. Impenetrable. He wasn’t giving anything up!”

Leo laughed, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“I honestly gave up and if you knew me, you’d know how huge that is. I don’t give up easily.”

“I could have guessed that about you. So why does he think you used him for information if he didn’t give you any?”

“I’m getting to that! We ended up talking all night about things unrelated to the case and the attraction was real! I hadn’t planned on going home with him, but that’s what happened. Because there was a real vibe and we clicked.”

“I’m sensing a but in there somewhere.”

“We went back to his place, and it was…well, it was…” An involuntary smile pulled her mouth up as the memories of that night danced through her head.

Leo groaned, “Yeah, that’s far enough, please don’t paint me a picture!”

Riley laughed then her smile faded, “But I got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water. I didn’t want to wake him, so I found my own way around the kitchen. On my way back I noticed the file laying on the desk…”

“And you read it?”

Riley had the good grace to look ashamed, “Read it, photographed it, quoted it in my article.”

“Wow, that’s a really big but,” Leo shook his head as he signaled the waitress for another round, “I don’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed in you.”

“Liam was understandably furious and hurt.”

“You sound troubled by that.”

“I mean, I knew he was going to be mad, but I didn’t realize how mad.”

“That bad, huh?”

“That bad. We’re not really on speaking terms.”

“You want to know what the most disturbing part of that whole story is?”

“What’s that?”

“The part where you slept with my brother, putting yourself off limits to me,” his eyes glittered with humor as he tipped his bottle to her.

Riley scoffed, “I doubt you have any trouble attracting women.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know…the boyish good looks, the devil may care attitude, the sparkling blue eyes, the bad boy demeanor, those goddamn dimples!”

“What makes you think I’m a bad boy?”

“Oh, you’re definitely a bad boy,” she answered as she lifted her drink to her lips, “and a fuck boy. And I don’t do fuck boys. So, I was never an option.”

He watched her toss the drink back with amusement, “Seems like you’ve got me all figured out then.”

“I’m a good judge of character. You may be a fuck boy, but I like you, Leo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The fact that you wouldn’t sleep with someone your brother is interested in elevates my opinion of your character.”

“What makes you think he’s still interested in you? You just told me he was furious with you.”

“Oh, he’s still interested,” she told him with a cocky grin, “He just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I think you’re right,” Leo choked on his drink as he nodded toward the door.

Riley turned to find Liam bearing down on them, his expression grim.

Riley slipped her recorder discreetly and quickly into her bag with the arm he couldn’t see as she turned her body to face him and shoved her belongings behind her, “Can I help you, detective?”

“Wow!” Leo marveled at the innocent tone of voice and flutter of eyelashes.

“You!” Liam addressed Leo first, “Please tell me that you did not divulge any confidential information relating to an ongoing case to a civilian…to a reporter no less!”

Leo threw his arms up in surrender, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Fucking great,” Liam huffed under his breath as he spun on Riley, “And you….you know you can’t print whatever he told you, right? It’s unverified hearsay. He could be making stuff up just to get your pants, you see that, don’t you?”

“First of all, calling him an unidentified source close to the investigation and liberal use of the word alleges covers most of those bases. But more importantly,” She plunked her elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand with a smile, “What makes you think he’s trying to get into my pants and why do you care?”

“Yeah, okay,” Leo tipped the bottle back and finished his beer before setting it down in front of him with a clunk, “I’m just gonna….go….”

Liam never pulled his eyes from Riley, “That’s probably a good idea. Stay away from this case, Leo.”

Leo paused when he was standing directly behind Riley, “The case? Or her?” He grinned at his brother then leaned down to whisper against her ear, “Keep an eye on the bartender tonight. You might get the answer you’re looking for.”

“Hm,” she replied struggling to keep her eyes locked on Liam. If he knew the bartender had any information, he’d question him himself and forbid her from doing it. She’d let him know if the man had anything pertinent to add to the investigation.

Her eyes quickly swept the bar as she turned her head to smile up at Leo, “Thanks for the tip.”

“Thanks for the conversation. We should do it again sometime,” he winked at her before giving his brother a grin, “See you Sunday at dads?”

“Mm,” Liam grunted. The weekly Sunday dinner was a command performance at his father’s estate ever since the advent of his most recent marriage.

“Oh, you have Sunday dinner with your father?” Riley perked up at the personal information, “I think that’s very sweet!”

“You wouldn’t if you ever attended one,” Liam snorted.

“I would love to attend one! Was that an invitation?”

“Absolutely not!”

“I would be delighted to have you come to Sunday dinner as my guest, Riley,” Leo offered.

“Why would you do that?” Liam asked in dismay as Riley and Leo quickly exchanged cell numbers.

“Trust me, bro, I’m doing this for your own good.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re an idiot sometimes,” Leo told him with a wave as he walked away.

Liam watched his brother leave then turned back to Riley in consternation, “Are you seriously coming to my father’s house as my brother’s date?”

“Oh, absolutely!” She answered as she scoured the bar again, “Does that bother you?”

“No!” He lied. “So, what did my brother tell you?”

“No more than he already told you, I’m sure.” She decided to try and deflect his attention, “Hey, remember last time we were here?”

Heat flushed through him as the memory of the night they met flashed through his mind, “Don’t change the subject, Riley.”

“Oh, it’s Riley again? Not Ms. Brooks?”

“I was working. It’s called professionalism.”

“You sure it’s not called sour grapes?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Riley pushed her drink away with a sigh, “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times you want me to say that. I didn’t sleep with you to get information out of you. I slept with you because I liked you. The rest just kind of happened…”

“Even if I believe you, you can understand why it would be hard for me to trust you again, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” she agreed, “But what if I could tell you who Katie Sloan is having an affair with?”

His head snapped up in interest, “How could you possibly do that?” 

“Riley! Riley!” Max nearly tripped in his haste to make it to the table she was sitting at.

She smirked at him, “I already know.”

“Know what?” Liam demanded.

“Who Katie Sloan is sleeping with, I told you!”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Who? And how do you know?”

“Dean Collins, owner and proprietor of The Beat.” She tipped her head toward the bar.

Liam’s eyes traveled across the room to land on the owner who was currently leaning across the bar, his face inches from the woman on the other side of it, his expression clearly besotted.

Her blonde hair was tucked under the brim of a stylish oversized hat and she hadn’t removed her sunglasses but it was Katie Sloan.

They watched as Dean tossed the register keys to one of the waitresses then moved around the bar, taking her hand in his and disappearing up the stairs in the back corner of the establishment, into the living quarters above.

[jakehawk]

Thank You

Jake goes to see Cole to say thanks before it's too late.

@colcreznik

Cole Reznik

-he was getting bored. naturally. being stuck in a jail cell with nothing to do could that do. now cole knew and understood what it was like for the inmates to the prisons he worked at. tapping his fingers against the wall his back was leaned against to the beat of a song stuck in his head, he heard the precinct door open- I hope that's you, Renee. Anyway you can fetch me a book or art supplies to pass the dying time? -once the person came to view, he realized it wasn't renee- Oh, hey Jack.

Jake Hawk

"Hey Mole," Jake replied back with a smile. "Sorry, I haven't got a book or anything. Just lunch." He held up the paper bag he had brought with him from the Community Centre. He put the bag into the tray in the cell door for Cole to take whenever he was ready. "Dumb question but how're you doing?"

Cole Reznik

-cole smirked at his new name - might as well. he then shrugged to answer jake's question- Living the dream, Jack. Living the dream. -he moved toward the door, happily taking the bag- This wouldn't by chance be a medium rare prime rib with loaded fries? I used to think about what my last meal would be and I think that would be it.

Jake Hawk

"Unfortunately, no. No prime rib or fries. It's boar steak and root veggies. I would say close your eyes and imagine it's the same but it's really not. Sorry."

Cole Reznik

It's whatever. Thanks anyway. -cole dropped the bag to the bench before facing jake- Whaddya doing here?

Jake Hawk

He leaned against the cell bars, his arms loosely crossed. "Came to say thank you for doing what you did with Renee. Wish it didn't cost you as much as it has done though."

Cole Reznik

Oh, come on, man. -cole chuckled, shaking his head as he took a seat- I'm the same fucker who planned on making a move on your girl if that damned biter hadn't come out of nowhere. There's no need to thank me. I'm not a fucking hero. Thanks for the food but, you ain't gotta be here.

Jake Hawk

Jake wasn't so much a fan of Coke hitting on Renee and guessed that was what caused the slap he saw. But he wasn't going to dwell on that now. "No, I don't have to be here but I am anyway."

Cole Reznik

-he folded his arms across his chest, letting out a sigh- Listen, I got Lord knows how many more hours left of this shit, and I don't wanna spend it playing ring around the rosie so - just say your thank yous and get shit out.

Jake Hawk

Jake narrowed his eyes slightly, weighing up his options here. "Alright. Thank you for saving the woman I love. I know there's no way I can repay what you did, even if you were being a slimy piece of shit beforehand. So yeah, thank you."

Cole Reznik

-cole let out a loud bellow of laughter, putting a hand on his stomach- Slimy piece of shit. That's a new one. Bravo. And you're welcome. Just make sure you fight for her. Life's too short not to do or say the things you want.

Jake Hawk

Jake cracked a grin as Cole let out a burst of loud laughter. There was no way for Jake to repay Cole for what he did but at least he made him laugh before... Yeah, before. "Oh I plan on fighting for her," he said. "She knows this already but I'm in it for the long haul. Even if the long haul ain't that long because-" he motioned in the air to indicate the near endless reasons of why life was not guaranteed to last all that long "-reasons!"

Cole Reznik

Good. Take it easy, Jake. Hold 'em close a little longer even if they fight you. -of course he meant the children jake had taken in, since cole wasn't able to do it himself with his own son- Now get outta here. No good spending your time here.

Jake Hawk

Nodding as Jake got to his feet, he was suddenly aware that this would likely be the last time he'd see Cole alive. And yet he was at a loss of what else to say to the doomed man. Anything his brain tried to cobble together didn't feel big enough for this moment. Instead, Jake gave Cole a salute before walking away.

Jake left the precinct and went back to his house. It was tempting to seek out Renee but he knew how busy she was with a new influx of patients so he went home instead.

"Hey Pops," Cody said as Jake let himself in. "You ok? You look kinda pale?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Jake muttered before pulling Cody into a big hug, the same kind of hug Cole wouldn't be able to give his own son ever again. After a long moment, Jake let go and gave Cody a sad looking smile. "Wanna help me with dinner?"

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.10

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

The day shift gives you ample time and opportunities to walk around the castle. Within a week, you come to know every chamber and pathway you hadn’t previously crossed, intimately.

At first, you pictured making your escape through a weak point in its fortification. The walls are ancient; You would have bet money on one of its parts having given out in the passing of centuries and gone unnoticed. Now, you know such a thing doesn’t exist. It doesn’t really surprise you that Alcina has made sure the exterior is in the same excellent condition as the interior.

But it is a problem.

The walls are too big for you to scale. If there are any stepping points, you can’t see them from within. You tried over and over to at least peak out into the back yard, but the shrieks and growls of monsters had you immediately changing course.

You don’t know what those things are and you’re not eager to find out. According to the older maids, there are more of them deep in the dungeons. It is only a rumor, of course, since nobody has ventured down there and returned to tell the tale.

Which, taking the window bars into account… leaves only one way out.

The front door.

You are aware that Lady Dimitrescu and the daughters all have a key on them. You know from Cassandra those are the only copies. Nothing enters or leaves unless one of them allows it.

There is not a snowflake’s chance in hell you’re getting Alcina’s key. She will murder you on sight. Bela won’t do anything to disappoint her mother, so that rules her out, as well. Daniela is the one most likely to misplace it or be persuaded to give it to you, but the girl is as unpredictable as she is sly and you won’t risk your wellbeing for a distant chance.

That means…

Cassandra is the only way out, isn’t she…

-

-

You lay low and await an afternoon where the cold is downright bone-piercing. As warm as the castle is, with fireplaces burning everywhere, you can still feel the stinging kiss of the outside frost every time you so much as go near a window.

And it all comes full circle right back to the start; You in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door, trembling with anxiety like the very first time. It is oddly fitting, in a way, that the story of the two of you ends where it began.

For a moment, you almost marvel at how long ago it feels, now. But there is no time nor space in your heart for sentimentality anymore. You stand at the point of no return.

And you cross it as soon as you turn the handle.

Cassandra’s bedroom is softly illuminated by the dying embers of the fireplace. You walk forward cautiously, slowly, almost as if you’re expecting a landmine to go off at a single misstep. Except –well. A mine would be far more merciful. Just an explosion and then nothing. If Cassandra wakes…

You try not to think about it, lest your muscles lock in place.

Underneath the heavy covers of the bed, you see her, cocooned, pale fingers clutching tight at the blankets. It is too early for her to wake. She is deeply asleep, you tell yourself, simultaneously praying she doesn’t open her eyes.

You make it to her vanity, soundless. Her amber-jeweled choker and the necklace she and her sisters wear are neatly arranged, yet the key you’re looking for isn’t with them.

Shit. You inwardly curse, your hand shaking from the nerves. It means she’s put it in the drawer of her bedside table. It means you have to go next to her, to literally put your fingers in the sleeping wolf’s parted jaws and hope they don’t clamp down.

Easy, right?

An unsteady exhale later, you move further in and carefully kneel by the small furniture. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep—

But you make the mistake of looking to the side.

Cassandra’s expression is not relaxed in sleep like how you remember it from the time when you would wake her up. Instead, her brow is furrowed, the line of her mouth pressed thin. She’s shivering, you realize, either from the cold or a nightmare or both. Shadows dance across her beautiful face.

Your first instinct is still to reach over and soothe her. You hate it, but you’ve accepted you won’t be over whatever it is you feel for her in quite some time.

It is not your place anymore to touch her, you remind yourself. You cannot ease her through her fears now that she has become your own.

With a clenched jaw, you force your body through the motions of opening the drawer and taking the key within.

At last. Your freedom is in your grasp.

And yet.

Shouldn’t you be happier about it?

Cassandra’s voice nearly knocks the air out of your lungs when it reaches your ears, faint. “No… please…”

You forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds. When your wide eyes shift to her, though, you realize she’s merely talking in her sleep.

Leave. Leave while you can.

But your chest constricts when you hear her sob. “…don’t leave me here… please…”

And out of all the possible things she could say, she utters those words and smashes your glass heart with a sledgehammer into a trillion pieces. The shards cut into you and it hurts—

You pause at the door. The corners of your vision have started to blur.

And then the world snaps, sharply, back into focus when her tone changes;

“…Alexia…?”

Your eyes lock, hazel to amber-grey, for a split second.

You run.

-

-

You don’t think you have ever ran this fast in your entire life. But it’s different now that it is about your life.

Adrenaline rushes throughout your bloodstream. You’re not thinking, just acting. Just fleeing.

Death, in the form of a black swarm, closes in on you with every rapid heartbeat. Cassandra is faster –she can fly and you’re only human—and at this rate you won’t even escape the corridor, much less the castle.

Flies break ahead of the rest and attach themselves to you. The sting of their bite at your nape and arms nearly has you howling in agony. She meant it when she said she would kill you herself. Not that you doubted it. Not for a second.

Because if Cassandra can’t have you, she will make sure nobody will.

You didn’t want to hurt her back the first time, but the stakes are too high now. You grab the nearest solid antiquity in your panic and throw it with all your might against the nearest window.

Glass shatters and the temperature plummets with it. Over your shoulder, you hear her scream. More out of rage than pain.

The flies biting at you drop to the floor, grey and paralyzed. You hear her shout pierce through your eardrums like a gunshot as you dash towards the turn—

“You won’t ever get to that door, Alexia!”

From the corner of your eye, you notice a blur coming towards you and instinctively drop down. A heavy thump later, your frantic eyes fly to the wall to see her sickle embedded halfway through a painting. If you hadn’t reacted in time, that would have been you.

Still, she can’t cross the hallway now, so you scramble to your feet and run while she takes the long way around. Question is, will you make it to the front door before she does?

It becomes a race where the winner takes all.

You practically jump down entire sets of stairs in your struggle for survival and you have no clue how you do it. You just know you can’t slow down for even a second.

The castle feels ten times as large as it actually is. By the time you descend the last staircase and the sound of buzzing insects grows in volume, the entrance is within sight.

You reach for another decoration and smash another window. Cassandra slows down, forced to materialize out of the swarm before she can’t will her body back together at all.

You shove the key into the lock and turn it.

Cassandra fights through the rush of frozen air, taking step after weighted step towards you—

“I won’t…let you leave here…alive.” she hisses, her teeth bared at you, skin growing too pale yet eyes blazing.

“I’m done being your prisoner.” you say back, voice hoarse and raw…

And you open the door. Steps taken backwards carry you away from her faster than she can make it to you. You can see her pain and her frustration, but they cannot compare to your own.

Your wounds ache from the frost.

Cassandra seems just about ready to leap at you even if it will certainly mean something very bad for her—

Until a black blur shoves her a dozen meters back. Bela’s back stands between you and Cassandra’s cracking form. Daniela soon lands off to the side, looking between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Bela!” Cassandra snaps.

“It’s over.” Bela replies, a grave finality to her voice.

Your breaths are coming out in harsh puffs of smoke. You still have trouble believing that you did it. That they can’t follow anymore. You did it.

“Nothing’s over!” Cassandra snarls and lunges for her elder sister.

The blonde, deadly calm, grabs her by the neck in a choke-hold and drags her closer to the nearly-extinguished warmth of the fireplace. The way Cassandra thrashes in her arms is downright heartbreaking.

Daniela looks at you, almost saddened, then back at her sisters.

“Shh. Calm down, Cassandra. Let go. Mother will be here soon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Bela says. “If you’ve any parting words to say to Alexia, say them now.”

You’re shivering. The cold nips through every layer of clothes you’re wearing to bite straight at your flushed skin. But you don’t move further away. You wait. Why am I even waiting, though?

Realization slowly sinks in, you can tell from Cassandra’s expression. Beyond the wounded pride of the apex predator losing a fight to a rabbit… she understands that she will never see you again.

Bela releases her and steps away, adjacent to Daniela.

“You’ve earned your freedom, Alexia.” Bela speaks under her hood. “Nobody’s ever managed to escape, before. Respect.” In another life, maybe her and you could have been friends. Maybe.

“So you’re really… leaving?” Daniela’s lower lip is slightly jutted into a little pout. “I… who will I use to get on Cassandra’s nerves, now?”

“I’d say it’s been nice, but.” you speak up between pants, birthing forth puffs of smoke. “I was taken from my home and sent here as a slave, so.” You can’t help the bitter grimace.

Cassandra’s chest is heaving, yet she isn’t looking at you. It doesn’t look like she has anything to say to you, either. But you have words for her, because you need to get this out at last, you need to be free of this weight or you will never really have escaped this nightmare.

“Even as your captive, you know what I fucking thought? You three can be so beautiful when you toy with the idea of basic human empathy. I don’t know what you saw our time as, Cassandra, but I was genuinely attracted to you. I wanted to be together with you. At some point, I was even happy!”

You’ve inhaled so much icy air your lungs probably won’t be doing great for very much longer but God, this is so cathartic. And so enraging that she’s not meeting your eyes now, at the very end of it all.

“Look at me! I care for you, deeply, but I can’t do this anymore! I don’t want to live in a cage as a pretty sacrifice, with you as my jailer. I can’t. You don’t know how psychologically destructive it is. You don’t know what it feels like!” you end with a hitched shout.

You hear the ominous sound of heavy heels hurriedly descending the staircase. “By Miranda! What is going on— Cassandra?!”

All three daughters freeze up for a moment.

Then Daniela touches her head as though she’s having a migraine and Bela shuts her eyes tightly, shoulders tensed. And Cassandra… drops on her knees to the floor, gasping for oxygen, clutching at her temples.

Bela shakes her head to snap out of it. Daniela still looks dazed and afraid… but Cassandra is nearly crying—

And then, in her panic attack, she whispers; “Don’t abandon me like they did, Alexia.”

You don’t know who she means or what you’re doing, until you’ve dashed back inside and gathered her chilled form into your arms, tight. You keep her there like you wish someone had held you during your storms. It doesn’t matter that you’re so much weaker than Cassandra, when what haunts her is too powerful even for her to face.

Alcina extends her claws as she advances on you.

You could probably still get away if you make a run for it, but where will you even go, when your heart is right here with the woman in your arms? The world beyond the village died for you a long time ago. The village died in a literal sense.

You wanted to be free. But freedom and being with her aren’t mutually exclusive. Why did it take me this long to figure it out…?

Alcina is too close now. You turn to kiss Cassandra’s hair for what may be the last time. You do not let go.

Bela and Daniela step in front of you.

Alcina gives them a warning, narrowed look.

“Uh— you know what, I just stepped forward because I saw Bela move. Haha, nevermind.” The redhead retreats once more. Maybe you’d roll your eyes at her if you weren’t bracing for your execution.

“Bela… step aside.” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone leaves no room for disobedience.

The eldest daughter lowers her head and hesitantly opens the path, as well.

Alcina casts a deep shadow over you in her massive height and giant claws. You lock eyes with her briefly, with the last, flickering cinders of your courage. Then you shift your face down into Cassandra’s shoulder and prepare to be skewered through. Her fingers clutch you almost painfully close to her.

“As for you…” there’s a growl in Alcina’s voice that makes you cower in terror.

Except...

The horrible pain you expected takes a little too long to come.

“…you have backbone, little human, I will admit.” Is that… is that a smirk you hear in her tone? “And my daughters do seem to want you around…”

…What?

Cassandra slowly pulls away from you to look up at her in disbelief and you dare to open your eyes. The claws are still uncomfortably close to your face.

“I will take responsibility for the damage, mother. Just, please, let her stay with me.” Cassandra says.

“…Hm. Very well. I expect the windows repaired by dinner.” Alcina gracefully pivots and just like that, takes her leave.

You and the sisters are left there, unbreathing, unmoving, wondering what just happened.

“Too cold. See you at dinner.” Daniela is the first to speak up. She rapidly waves and disappears like she’s being hunted by an army.

Bela glances at you, then at her middle sister. “We need to talk. But later. For now, defrost.” She, too, disperses in a swarm of flies.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically vulnerable, looks into your eyes and brings a crystalline hand to your cheek. The soft way she does it, it may as well be the apology she is too proud to voice. You both lean towards each other, resting your foreheads together.

You have a lot to talk about. But there is time.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

The first tell was the body next to her. The second was the warmth. Her bed was never warm these days. The first two things had already clued her in that there was something off. Off was an understatement. She’s certain she passed out on her office floor clutching a bottle of alcohol and Jess was going to kill her in the morning. So, how the fuck-

The longer she stays there, eyes closed, feeling the breathing of a stranger, the more she’s convinced she’s suffered from amnesia. 

Beyond scared she opens her eyes, hoping, praying that she didn’t bring home some idiot from a cheap lesbian bar. Her eyes land on blonde hair and an all too familiar set of defined shoulders and Lena lets out a gasp of surprise. She sobers up, jerks upright. Jolting the pair of arms wrapped around her waist and making her companion wake abruptly. 

“Lena- Wha- Why’re you awake?”

“Kara-” That was all she was capable of as of the moment, because Kara was sitting up and flicking on the bedside lamp, letting Lena glimpse the small clock on the nightstand that read 4: 00 a.m. 

Kara’s voice was all raspy and sleep-laden and she was looking at Lena with concern. She was looking at Lena like they’ve done this all the time. And they did. 

Once. 

She remembers jerking awake screaming from nightmares and Kara holding her; remembers waking up to Kara’s screams and holding her. 

But this-

This wasn’t right. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asks, crinkle forming. And Lena just stares and stares and-

“Kara, this isn’t real.”

“What? Oh, baby, come here. That dream must’ve really done a number on you, huh?” Kara coos and she gathers Lena in her arms. Lena can do nothing but melt and follow Kara’s movements, her mind is still reeling. 

Trying to decipher the events that had led here. This wasn’t real. This-

A tremble shakes the bed. Lena’s heart rate ticks up, Kara seems to have heard because she’s tightening her embrace and more words come out of her lips, but Lena doesn’t hear a word of it.

“I’m here, you’re safe. I’m here.” 

Lena finally finds her voice and she slowly tries to extricate herself from Kara. She can feel her hesitating to let her go. 

“This isn’t real,” She repeats and Kara is ready to protest, “Please, Kara. Please listen to me?”

She nods. Kara was never one to deny Lena anything, anyway. Lena sighs a breath of relief. 

“Thank you. Uh- I think this isn’t real, Kara. I think I’m inside a Black Mercy induced dream.”

And as if it heard a cue, the bed and the rest of the room vibrates as if ashamed of being called-out so easily. 

“No, no, no. You aren’t. You’re real. I’m real, You-” Kara is scrambling for words, “Look- Here, feel this?” Kara frantically grabs her hand and presses it to her own chest, “Can you feel it? This is real. Don’t say it isn-”

Lena feels like sobbing, because it does feel real. The strong beats underneath her palm thundering through her very soul. It feels so so so fucking real. She’s never wanted something to be real as bad as this. She wants to believe, because Kara is looking at her with those baby blue eyes and she wants to say that ‘Yes, I believe it real. We’re real.’

She can’t.

“Kara, the bed is trembling. Can you feel it? This isn't real. You’re in my head.”

It was brutal. She watches Kara’s face fall. She retracts her hand back. 

“How are you so sure that this isn’t real?”

The question was asked with so much fear. 

“Because,” she starts shaky but certain, “I hurt you, Kara. And that is the one thing that I can never forget.”

It was true. She can never forget the way Kara crumpled to her feet. Can’t forget the way the Girl of Steel broke by Lena’s hands. Can’t forget the tear-stricken face. 

Can’t forget the pleas. 

“Don’t do this, Lena. Please, come on. Please, stay. Don’t leave. Not you, please I can’t-”

“Oh.”

The silence was deafening. She can’t look at Kara as she processes everything. So she takes the time to survey the room. And God, every inch of the room screams how much they’ve stitched their lives with the other. 

There were books haphazardly stacked in one corner, a painting easel in the other, Kara’s cape shining in the dim light of the lamp, Lena’s old MIT sweatshirt at the foot of the bed. 

A wedding portrait. They were married here. Fuck. 

Lena chances a glance at her left hand and not only does she find a ring but also a matching gold bracelet. A Kryptonian mating band. Now, she notices that Kara’s ring was worn on her neck next to her Mother’s necklace Lena supposes she wears it underneath the Super suit and a matching bracelet sitting on her left wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” Lena says ‘for everything.’ she wants to add but she remembers this isn’t her Kara. She doesn’t have a Kara. She doesn’t have any part of Kara. Not anymore.

“What are you sorry for? If anyone could figure out they were inside a parasite induced dream, it would be you.  You’re a genius but you’re dumb for apologizing. You should reject the fantasy now, Lena. You’ll die.”

Damn it, even here. 

Even here Lena is still hurting her and Kara still wants to save her. 

The tears finally fall. The sobs come next. 

“Oh, Lena. Come here. It’s okay. I’m here,”

“I- I know, I’ll die but God, Kara, I want to stay here. I- You’re my everything, you know?”

“I know, Lena. I’ve always known. You don’t have to die because I’ll always know. You need to get out of here now,” She whispers against Lena’s temple and Lena takes the time to breathe her in. God, even the scent smells real. 

“Y-you’re right. I should go, but-” Lena doesn’t know how to ask for what she wants. That was what her therapist had said the first time she booked an appointment.

“But what?”

“Tell me about our life here first?” At that Kara pulls away a bit to look into her eyes; gauging if this is really what Lena wants. 

It is, it’s what she wants but more than that it’s what she needs. The reassurance that somewhere out there, there was a world in which they made each other happy. That in a universe out there--whether real or not--the both of them had a taste of a happy ending.

“Okay, okay yeah. But first, promise me you’ll get out of here as fast as you can, once we’re done?” 

She was never one to deny Lena Luthor anything, remember? She was more than happy to recount the entirety of their love story to her.

“Thank you.” And Lena can’t help but press a soft kiss to Kara’s cheek. 

“Where do you want to start?”

“Do we have a dog?”

“Krypto,” Kara says with a shy smile as if she knows that Lena would laugh at the goofy sentimental name choice, “And a cat, Streaky Jr., you don’t allow pets in the bedroom so,”

“I’m impressed we have the time for pets,” Lena whispers as she shifts closer to Kara in the bed. Heart now beating in a steady calm rhythm, gone was the panic earlier, now replaced by a sense of security, no matter how false it is. 

“Well, you decided to distribute most of the workload to Jess--who you promoted to board member by the way, and to Sam. And since, Wednesday is my first day as Editor-in-Chief, my schedule’s not as busy as it was.”

It was nice to hear that. The way they have obviously chosen to grow into themselves together. She was glad that in her perfect world she hadn’t forgotten about Jess and Sam.

“Oh, and also you spend most of your days in our home lab with Jack anyway. So, the pets get plenty of love.”

“Jacky’s alive here?”

“Yeah, you reversed the nanotech matrix. You saved him.”

And the crying fest begins anew. 

“I miss him, so much.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lena doesn’t have to explain her reaction, Kara knows how to read her anyway.

At the reminder of Jack, Lena finds the courage to ask a question she’s never thought she would want to ask.

“What about Lex and Lillian?”

“Well, your brother’s probably drunk in an L-Corp gala somewhere and Lillian’s probably plotting about how she’s going to insult my next article-”

So, she still has her brother and it seems like Lillian’s not much of a xenophobe as she is in reality but she senses that she still is a bad mother with the way Kara talks.

“When did we get married?”

“Two years after we first met. We had two, actually.”

“I’m guessing I insisted on a Kryptonian wedding and you insisted on a human one?”

She knows that one, because she’s been thinking about it. Well, at least she was before everything went to shit. She wanted to give Kara a Kryptonian ceremony. She had wanted to show her that Lena would be honored to share everything Kara’s world had to offer.

“Are we-” she hesitated, “Are we happy, Kara?”

She wasted no time in answering, “The happiest. You make me the happiest soul alive in this universe and in any universe.”

Fresh tears fall down the side of her face and Kara wipes them away before speaking, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, I guess it’s only fair.” Lena sniffles and prepares her mind for what she knows will be an emotionally-charged exchange not that this has been an easy conversation thus far.

“Out there, are you happy?”

Lena’s air is stolen from her. Well, she doesn’t know how to answer that one. 

“Sometimes,” she whispers. She’s not happy most of the time but sometimes she is.

Sometimes, Ruby calls her to tell her about a science project or sometimes Nia sends her meme even though she hasn’t been to Game Nights for almost a year now, sometimes Brainy takes her out for a drink and she feels like she’s got a little brother to call her own. 

So yeah, sometimes. Because the thought of perpetual happiness without Kara in her life is impossible. 

“Only sometimes?” Kara asks, brow furrowing.

“Yeah, only sometimes. Not like it matters, anyway.”

“Well, of course it matters! Your happiness matters!” Kara exclaims, old habits die hard what can she say?

But then Kara takes a turn from defensive to curious again, “Am I happy? Out there? I mean?” 

“I- I have no idea.”

Lena waits for the answer to sink in to Kara. 

“What? What do you mean you have no idea?”

“Remember when I said I hurt you?” 

Kara gives her a nod.

“Well, I haven’t seen you for a long time. I’ve been avoiding you. Normally people tend to not seek out their exes, you know.” 

She’s trying to keep it lighthearted. She’s trying not to let this Kara see how much she craves her presence, how much she wishes she could see Kara again. Don’t get her wrong, Supergirl is plastered every minute on the news, but- 

That’s not who she wants to see. 

“She’s miserable,” Kara answers point-blank leaving no room for argument, “If you’ve been avoiding me, I’d be miserable.”

That has Lena speechless. 

Because miserable would be an understatement of how things had been ever since they ended things. 

Ever since Lena ended things. 

“I don’t like not being with you, you know?” Kara states as if Lena doesn’t feel the same.

“I- I don’t like that either.”

“I know.”

She has to go. Lena knows she has to go but Kara is looking at her so sincerely and she can feel the love and she knows this is nothing but an intricate trap formed by an alien parasite slowly killing her. She has to go but-

“Lena!” 

The both of them are startled and four eyes immediately land to-

Kara?! No, not Kara. Supergirl.

“Supergirl,” She says; surprise coloring her voice. She didn’t know Supergirl would go in and save her. Hell, she didn’t even know how she found her. But then again, she’s tried solving the puzzle that is Kara Zor-El but had never been able to piece it together. 

Supergirl takes a look at her doppelganger in bed with Lena; a scene so familiar to her. A scene she’s replayed again and again in her head. A scene that was once their reality then a memory and now an illusion. She takes a step closer.

“Lena, we have to go, please. Please believe me, this isnt-” 

“-real,” Lena finishes for her and Supegirl looks stunned, “I know, Supergirl. I know how to reject my own fantasy. I’ve had plenty of practice, after all.”

She aims for sarcasm, because fucking fucking hell, how the fuck does anybody expect her to function if there were two Kara’s in front of her?

That was asking for too much. 

Beside her, Kara had gone silent. It seems like she knows what comes next. She knows what Supergirl intends to do. They’re the same person after all. 

“It’s okay,” Lena hears Kara say and she breaks away from the hero’s gaze to find Kara looking at her with those eyes again.

“It’s okay, Lena,” She repeats, “It’s okay, Supergirl’s here. You’re gonna be safe. Stay safe for me, yeah?”

“Lena we have to go. Now,” Supergirl commands from the other side of the room. 

“Okay, yeah,” She whispers then she turns to Supergirl, “Just give me a chance to say goodbye, please?”

Supergirl stares at her for a moment then at Kara then she gives them both a nod and turns back to give them privacy.

“Last question?”

“Hit me.”

“What’s your surname?”

“Luthor.”

Fuck. She shouldn’t feel this surprised but damn, hearing Kara confirm it? Lena doesn’t know how to feel about that. She doesn’t know how to feel about all of this. 

“Just like you promised.”

“Just like I promised.” 

The words are echoed back to her and Lena hates the way she’s noticed how stiff Supergirl’s posture had become in her periphery. Ignores the fact that Supergirl has superhearing. 

“Thank you for indulging me, Kara.”

“Always.”

Goodbye, darling.”

And then everything fades to black.

author’s note: hiya lovely people send me an ask if i should write a follow-up for this.

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @thenerdandfandoms @emily-gsh @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 9)

Warning - illness, mentions of death

Authors Note - I have personal experience of this horrific disease - I hope I don't upset anyone with it, but it's a topic very close to my heart.

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

A month had passed since you'd deleted his number and blocked him. You were staring at the letter in your hand, shaking. You knew this day was coming, but you'd pushed it so far down that you had only truly thought about it when Cillian had told you he loved you.

You'd told Liane the truth. Why you couldn't commit to him, even though you desperately wanted to. Truth be told you'd fallen for him just as hard - and that's exactly why you'd pushed him away. It was bad enough you had to live with this, you couldn't force someone else to. She'd encouraged you to get tested - and you knew she was right. It was time you took your life in your hands once and for all. You'd spent too many years since your mother's and sister's untimely deaths burying it.

Picking up the phone, you dialled the number, heart pounding. The receptionist answered.

"Morning. My name is y/n y/l/n. I had some tests. I've had a letter to say the results are in?"

"Can I ask what the test was for?" The receptionist asked.

"My GP referred me. It's for the breast cancer gene. I'd like to know if I carry it."

"Let me check our records Miss Y/L/N. Yes, I have your results here. Would you be available to come in this afternoon? We've had a cancellation?"

"Can you not tell me over the phone?"

"I'm not allowed to, the doctor has requested to see you in person." Your heart lurched, that was never a good sign.

You immediately wanted to call Cillian, but remembered you didn't have his contact details any more. You called Liane instead. She would pick you up at 2pm and go with you to the appointment.

Sat in the waiting room, Liane held you hand to calm you. Your nerves were in tatters. This disease had already taken so much from you - your mum, your older sister, two cousins... You knew there was a strong chance it was going to take you, too. The doctor called you through.

"Your results are here y/n. And I'm pleased to inform you -"

"What?" You gasped. The doctor smiled and took your hands in hers.

"Y/n, you don't carry the gene. It isn't there - your chances of developing breast cancer are no higher than mine, or Joan Bloggs on the street. You're going to be okay." Even the doctor had tears in her eyes. Liane was gobsmacked. You just burst into tears.

"I'm not going to die?"

"Oh honey if I had the cure for that I'd be a millionaire!" She laughed, you did too. You felt like the world had just been lifted off your shoulders, taking a dark cloud with it. A dark cloud you'd been living with for nearly 10 years. The real reason you'd split with your ex. The reason you refused to get your breasts out for auditions. The real reason you backed away from a life in acting. You didn't see the point if you weren't going to be here for the long haul... But now?

Now you'd been given a new life. A new start. And your thrown away the best chance of happiness you'd ever had in one stupid click of a button.

Liane noticed your sadness in the car on the way home. You suddenly realised you weren't actually heading home though, you were on the M6 heading to Wolverhampton.

"Erm.. where are we going?" You asked, seeing the sign for Wolverhampton fly past.

"Road trip."

"Destination?"

"It's a surprise!! Do you trust me?"

"Always..."

"Then don't ask questions."

You rolled your eyes and figured you were probably en route to Bicester Village in Oxford. That was your happy place - a day of shopping, good food, few drinks in the evening... Before long though, your eyelids grew heavy. You always fell asleep on car journeys, this one was no different. Within ten minutes you were out cold.

You felt Liane nudge you gently, waking you. Opening your eyes, you looked around, expecting to see the car park. Instead you saw terraced houses, a green park, and a street sign with 'London Borough - Kilburn' on it.

"Why am I in London??" You asked. Liane shrugged her shoulders.

"Fancied a change - never been before! Just got on the motorway and drove. Been years since we've done that hasn't it! Just drove with no destination?" You grinned, remembering the random road trips you used to take years ago. You'd ended up all over the UK, even catching a ferry to Amsterdam one Friday night just because you were bored!

"So what's the plan?"

"Let's go explore!" She paid for the parking via an app on her phone and you both climbed out the car. The houses were all Victorian style and beautiful. The park was glorious - the sun shining on it beautifully. Liane suggested a picnic in the park first to line your stomachs, then cocktails.

"Aren't you driving us home later?"

"Yes - I'll be on the mocktails! Come on, let's go find food... There's loads of little deli places over there!"

Picnic done, it was cocktail time. Sadly, there didn't appear to be a cocktail bar anywhere near... But there was a nice looking pub over the road. Settling on a normal G&T, you both made your way over. Liane sent you inside to get the drinks while she sat in the beer garden out the back.

Heading outside with two G&Ts, you looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. You quickly scanned inside again just to make sure you'd not missed her. Setting the drinks down on a bench outside, you waited. Must've gone to the toilet. Taking your phone out you sent her a text letting her know where you were.

Ten minutes passed - still no sign. You were worried now. A ping on your phone.

"For god's sake woman open your eyes and look in the corner!!" Liane... What the hell? You looked up and nearly dropped your phone. Sitting ten feet away from you, on his own... Holding his phone in his hand and staring at you the same way you were staring at him. In complete disbelief.

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. Both of you realising you'd been set up. Completely played.

He stood up, you were convinced he was going to leave but he didn't. He sat opposite you instead.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey..."

"Can I talk before you do?" He asked. You nodded.

"I know... I didn't... Fuck this makes so much more sense in my head..." He laughed.

"Can I talk instead?" He nodded. You took a deep breath and told him the truth. About your family. The deaths. The illness. The tests.. and the results.

"That's why I pushed you away. That's why I push everyone away. But you were the first one I pushed that I regretted... I regretted it so much because no one had ever made me feel as alive as you did. No one made me float on air like you did. No one made me forget about this cloud hanging over me like you did..."

"You thought I'd leave you if you had the gene?"

"My Dad left when my mom was diagnosed. He couldn't handle it so he bailed. Wasn't a great role model."

"Your dad's a dick. I'm not." His brutal, dead pan response made you laugh. In fact you didn't just laugh, you were in hysterics. He laughed with you, and took your hands in his.

"If I promise not to tell you I love you, will you let me see you?"

"No."

"Erm... Okay?"

"I want you to tell me you love me, if you mean it. Then I'll decide."

"Y/N... I. Love. You. I fucking love you. I adore you. I've had the most miserable four weeks of my life thanks to you!" He laughed.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that.."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"You're giving me a second chance?"

"I never gave up on the first one. But this time, we take it slow. Get to know each other. I'll start by asking if I can take you out to dinner tonight?"

"I have nothing with me... All my stuff's at home..."

"Fair enough. Then we have two choices. You go shopping with Liane and get yourself something.. or go home and we can arrange to meet another time?"

"I'm already here, and shopping was on our to do list. Dinner tonight sounds lovely."

"Unblock my number. I'll text you the details later, okay?" He finished his drink and pulled his jacket on, quickly typing a text as you unblocked his number. If only you'd known it was that easy to get his contact details again... The message pinged through.

"Thank you..." You smiled reading it. He leaned over and kissed your cheek softly, before walking away. Glancing back, smiling, as he left the pub.

Liane was with you in seconds.

"You sneaky little shit, how did you do this??" You laughed.

"Anto contacted me last week, said he was sick of Cillian moping. We kinda worked together... Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. Where's Anto?"

"Right here." Anto appeared out of nowhere and you threw your arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything?"

"No need to thank me. This was Liane's idea. Bit of a rush to sort once you'd got those results but luckily you live 3 hours away and you sleep like the dead!" He laughed. "Now get yourself gone - you have a date to prepare for!"

[theonewiththefanfics]

Black Ice (one-shot)

Synopsis: Black ice is considered one of the most dangerous winter weather phenomenon. It appears after it’s rained or snow has melted and then the rapidly cooling air freezes it, leaving it as a shiny black mirror on the ground.  A deadly shiny black mirror. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of hospitals and injuries

Word count: 8852

“God, Harry, it’s just one night!” Y/N exasperated, throwing her hands in the air. “One fucking night I wanna go out with my friends and have some fun. Is that really too much to ask?”

        “I haven’t seen you in two months!” he snapped back. “So, please fucking forgive me that I wanna spend a night in with my girlfriend and have her say ‘no’ one time, and make me a priority. Is it so hard to reschedule?”

        “Yes, Harry it is!” Y/N stood her ground. “Adam and I have been talking about this for three weeks before we could set a date and meet up. He fucking flew out here! To London! And it’s not my fault you haven’t been home in two months, so don’t put that on me.”

        “No,” he shook his head pointing a finger at her. “Don’t pull that shit on me. You knew about my job, you know how it can be, how much I have to travel.”

        “I get that, and I’d get your anger if I was fucking off with my friends on our anniversary without any notice or some shit, but I’m not! I made these plans ages ago. I told you about them! How could I have known you’d decide to ‘surprise’ me a week early?”

        But the thing for Harry was – he did think there was an anniversary to celebrate. It wasn’t an official one, and he hadn’t told Y/N how much the date meant, but that day was the day they’d met a year prior.

***

        He was in the middle of filming ‘Darling Don’t Worry’. This time they'd flown out of California to shoot a scene in the middle of the woods, in the cold of November, which as exciting as it was to have his acting career flourish, Harry wasn't too happy about freezing his ass off in the middle of nowhere.

Y/N, however, lived right next to those woods, her family house having been there for generations, while the location scouts of the movie had chosen the location because the aesthetic could double as the location of the woods behind the mansion.

        Y/N’d been out on her daily run (well, daily complaining because Y/N, with all her being, hated running, and thought it was a sign you were a masochist. But her best friend Adam loved running and hated going alone, so he bribed her with the promise of pizza afterwards), when they’d run into pitched white tents, filming equipment and barriers encasing a part of the path they were on.

        Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as he slowed his pace, and Y/N thanked god for that because she felt like she was about to pass out.

        “What’s going on here?”

        “Dunno,” Y/N huffed. “But we should probably leave.”

        But instead, Adam grabbed her by the bicep, dragging her forward to the set. “Nope. Come on.”

        “Adam!” she hissed. “What the fuck are you – “

        “Hi!” He flashed a woman standing by the railing a smile. “Could you-uh-tell us what’s going on? Why’s the path blocked?”

        “A movie’s being filmed. Sorry for the disturbance.”

        “Mhm, and when do you think you’ll be leaving?”

        That she hadn’t expected, given how typically when people saw a movie set, they’d be more than intrigued in getting into a shot or finding out about who were the stars, not when they’d be going away.

        “Oh, uh,” she stammered. “I’m not too sure. Depends if the snow starts falling and how much we manage to shoot. Sorry. But uh, would you be so kind and find a path around?”

        Y/N jumped in, flashing her a kind smile. “Yes, thank you. So sorry to have disturb –“

        “You do realise this is a public place?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “We have a right to be here.”

        “Adam, shut up,” Y/N groaned. “We can run around them, it’s not a big deal.”

        “But this is our route!”

        “Adam for fuck’s sake! It’s the woods, you don’t own them!”

        “Exactly!” he said. “And neither do they! They have no rights to infringe on our ability to get to the sea.”

        That’s when Harry had noticed her, and to this day Y/N had no clue as to why he’d fallen for her. He was conversing with Florence about the upcoming scene when his ears caught the very end of the conversation, green eyes snapping to where two people in running tracksuits stood.

        One of them was a tall burly man, muscles practically ripping apart his clothes at the seams, the other was a shorter woman, hands-on-hips, hair kept away by a headband which also covered her ears, and the most done expression on her face as she glared at her companion.

        They were talking with a nervous assistant; Harry could see by her stature and how her head kept snapping to the side in hopes of finding someone above her to deal with the two strangers.

        “Adam, I swear to god, I’ll punch you." Harry heard the woman exclaim. "Leave the girl alone! We can run around.”

        “But I –“

        “Adam!”

        “Fine,” he grumbled as he threw the assistant and apologetic look. “Sorry.”

        “ ‘S okay. Have my preferred cycling route as well, so yeah… Sorry.”

        Harry watched as the woman next to the person, Adam, shook her head and gestured to where the barriers curved around, starting up on a slow jog, and when they passed where he was standing by the trailers, he could hear them still arguing. 

        “Oh my god,” Harry heard her whisper while looking at the ground. “I’m friends with a fucking Karen.”

        “I am NOT a – you’re Harry Fucking Styles!” Adam shouted so hard, it startled Y/N, and when she looked over, it was like a deer in headlights before relaxing and both of them slowed their pace.

        “Sorry,” she gave him an awkward glance. “He’s a fan, but we’ll be going and stop bothering you...”

        “No, no,” Harry shook his head, putting his hands in his coat’s pockets and smiling. “ ‘S alright, you’re no bother. I’m always happy to talk to a fan.”

        “Yes, well, don’t encourage him. Soon enough, you’ll be besties, and Adam here’ll be turning your life into absolute chaos.”

        He scoffed looking down at his friend. “I’d like to think I’m taking you out of your boring routine, Y/N, and giving it some spice.”

        “Anyway,” she gritted out. “It was lovely to meet you, but uh, we should probably be on our way. You have to be somewhere.”

        Y/N’s eyes glanced over Harry’s shoulder, where a nervous AD stood, bouncing on her feet, a weary smile on her face as she caught the singer’s eyes and motioned with her head he was needed back on set.

        Harry nodded and wanted to turn back to tell the two to come by whenever they wanted (well mainly Y/N), but when he turned around, the two were already quite a few feet away. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Y/N shout, “Congratulations on the three Grammy nominations, by the way. ‘Fine Line’ was amazing.”

        “And that’s a compliment!” Adam hollered jogging backwards. “She only listens to shit from the early 2000s.”

        “Adam, shut up!”

        With that, Harry was left to watch the two disappear behind the trees, a feeling he was quite familiar with settling in his chest.

        It was three days later, when he saw Y/N approaching the set barriers, hands in her pockets, as she rolled her neck. Their eyes met, and even, from the distance, he could see her smile split apart her face, but when she just waved without the intention of coming any closer to the lot, Harry rushed to the side calling out to her. “Hey!” 

        “Hey!” Y/N responded chuckling and ducking her head down. “You alright?”

        “ ‘M alive. How ‘bout you? You doin’ fine?’”

        “The bar’s so low?”

        “I guess. Won’t be able to get you to nurse me back to health though, which is why I’m in the cold again.”

        She wiggled her eyebrows at Harry. “If you wanted to see me, there's no need to lose limbs or bits of yourself.”

        Harry hadn’t expected her to be so upfront, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t like it. Made it easier for him to understand if his advances were welcome or if he should back off. “So uh, no Adam today?”

        “No, he has a late shift at work. Which means I’m spared from the running.”

        “Not a fan?” he looked at her with a quirked brow, seemingly saying ‘you’re sure dressed like you are’.

        “Do I look like someone who likes stabbing pain in her side and having her heart ripped out of her chest?

        “You’re just not breathing properly.”

        Y/N sighed. “If one of you gives me any more advice about how to properly run when I don’t even want to run, I swear I’ll stab you.”

        “Okay!” he threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “No more talk about running if I wanna keep my head on my shoulders. Where are you uh going? You don’t have to answer, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

        Y/N squealed on the inside, but bit her lip to keep the grin away. She’d been dying to talk to Harry since they’d briefly met but had no real reason. Not that she had one now, but she’d had a horrible day at work and needed to clear her head, and what was better than the forest air (also she could scream there without anyone really caring). “You’re not, so don’t worry. I’m uh I’m going to the sea.”

        Harry’s eyebrows rose. “There’s sea nearby?”

        “You’re like a fifteen-minute walk away from it,” she chuckled, stuffing her hands in her coat’s pockets. “Should really be more aware of your surroundings.”

        “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

        Y/N tilted her head. “Yeah, you’re kind of right. But it’s places like these where you can find the best spots.”

        “Will you show me then?”

        She looked at him with an unreadable expression, and he could only hope his nervousness wasn’t as apparent, because Harry was more than convinced his erratically beating heart could be heard miles away. But then she nodded, giving him a wide grin, making one of his own bloom on his face. 

“You sure you won’t freeze on your way there?” she said in a sarcastic tone eyeing him up and down, and Harry shoved her a bit.   

        He donned one of the standard down-jackets issued for the movie with winter boots, but given the costume underneath, he was chilled to the bone. “It’s bloody cold, and my toes are freezing off. How are you still standing?”

        “Insulated shoes and thermal clothes. Kinda boiling actually.”

        “I should steal ‘em.” He smiled at her. “Probably have frostbite by now.”

        “Wow, you people from the South UK really are weak.”

        Harry’s gasp made her smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “How dare you!” He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, Y/N’s laughter erupting through the air. It cut through the yells and shouts from the filming crew, and made a warmth spread in his chest. “How do you know about the South versus North? You don’t sound like you’re from the UK.”

        “Studied there for three years; had loads of flatmates from all around, let alone course mates.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “And to say that I thrived on the chaos  was when you said North was better than the South would be an understatement.”

        “Well, I guess I know where your loyalties lie.”

        “Did you expect me to immediately swoon over you?” Y/N batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Mr Harry Styles. Your voice in ‘Kiwi’ was so good it fucked me to cloud nine. Will you please do that to me with your dick instead? Which you should take as a compliment again, considering kiwi is the only thing I’m allergic to.”

        “Wait,” he looked at her, eyebrows up to the middle of his forehead. “So you have heard my stuff?”

        “Well, I don’t live completely under a rock. I did say 'Fine Line' was amazing.”

        “But you don’t really like it?”

        Y/N shook her head. “ ‘S not that I don’t like yours or other pop stuff, ‘s just that I have a preference, and I guess it’s, as Adam said, ‘early 2000s shit’.”

        A sly smile appeared on Harry’s face. “But could that include by any chance 'One Direction'?”

        “Afraid not,” Y/N sighed giving him a pout. “When you came onto the scene, my heart was already taken by a boyband. And I can be a lot of things, but I most definitely a loyal bitch.”

        “One band at a time kind of gal?”

        “Exactly.” She beamed. God Harry had never wanted to kiss a person that bad. 

        “Duly noted, but I will need to know who they are, and how many graves do I have to dig? You know, for research purposes.”

        “Going method now?”

        “What’dya mean?”

        Y/N shrugged sniffling a bit from the frosty weather. “Looked up a little bit about the movie. Need to know what kind of people might be around in the area. Psychological thriller. Wife. Rich husband. A dark secret. My guess – someone’s dead and buried. Also, the huge pit we walked past was kind of a give-away.”

        He paused for a second before nodding. “Fair enough.”

        A comfortable silence fell between the two as Y/N motioned with her head to where they needed to turn and made their way onto a new path when she spoke. “ ‘S not that I wasn’t a fan,” Y/N shrugged glancing at Harry from the side. “The songs were really catchy, but I guess I got tired of them? Like they were on the radio so much, it was a relief I didn’t have to hear the five of you singing about how I don’t know I’m beautiful.”

        Harry threw his head back in a laugh. “Don’t worry. Sometimes we’d get sick of it ourselves. But umm, ‘Fine Line’… You said you liked it… Do ya’ have a favourite song?”

        Y/N cringed. “Is it cliché if I say ‘Golden’? Because it’s ‘Golden’. I’m a sucker for a slow and then a ‘bam!’ kind of an opening.”

        Harry shook his head. Now he was the one biting back a grin. “ ‘S not cliché. Was one of my favourites to write, so I’m glad you appreciate it.”

        “Also, it makes me feel sunny? If that makes sense? Like – like when I listen to it, I feel warm and safe and just happy...”

        He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest at her words. Warm. Safe. Sunny. “Well,” Harry cleared his throat to keep the words ‘One day I’ll marry you’ at bay. Fuck, he'd only known her for like twenty minutes! “I’m glad you like it more than my previous stuff.”

        “You just love putting me in uncomfortable situations, don’t you?”

        He smiled, nudging her shoulder with his, and was just about gearing up to take a breath and ask Y/N out (before he could ask to marry her), when quick steps from behind him drew their attention. 

        Dressed in a typical 50s housewife dress with a black coat on top, Florence Pugh came to stand beside them, and Harry swore he saw mischief twinkle in her eyes as she raked them over both people and then settled on Harry’s companion.

        “Hi!” she said giving Y/N a bright smile, and a wink to Harry, which passed the other girl’s head, given how she was absolutely fangirling right now. “I’m Florence.”

        “I – yeah – I – you – I love you,” Y/N finally breathed out. “Fuck, I just, you know, 'Midsommar' was a fever dream, but I absolutely loved it, and I can’t wait for 'Black Widow' to come out. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

        “Please don’t.” She laughed grabbing onto Y/N’s shoulder. “Feels like I already know you, but I’ve been dying to meet you actually. Created quite the commotion yesterday.”

        You know how they say men can think of absolutely nothing, like have a completely blank page in their head? Yeah, Y/N was having that exact moment. 

        Florence tutted crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Harry with mock disappointment. “But Harry here just kept talking about you, without any intention of inviting you to the trailers, so I had to take things into my own hands.”

        “You’ve been wanting to meet me?” Y/N breathed out, hands going into her hair, looking at Harry. “Oh my god, what is happening? Am I hallucinating?”

        “No, you’re not,” Harry grumbled glaring at Florence. “Unfortunately. But we were on our way to the sea, so I’ll see you back on se-“

        “Hello there,” Chris Pine’s smooth voice interrupted them, as he extended a hand for Y/N to shake as he jogged up to the trio. “I’m Chris.”

        “Wow, your eyes are even bluer in real life.” Her own Y/E/C ones widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

        “You did,” Chris chuckled, “but I most certainly take it as a compliment. You said you were going to the sea?”

        “Uh, yeah,” Y/N breathed out still gazing into Pine’s eyes. “Wanna join?”

        Harry wanted to scream, but he couldn’t really. As much he wanted to tell both Florence and Chris to go away, he didn't. Seeing Y/N’s eyes light up as the two other actors conversed with her, laughed and joked around, made his heart expand.

        It was insane to him, that a woman he’d seen twice in his life could have such a huge impact. It was like she’d been his missing part. Well, no. Harry didn’t like that notion – that the ‘right’ person would complete someone. People were complete on their own, but it was true to him that there was someone out there that’d make each and every moment special, someone who would help the other become better, but also hold them accountable when needed. 

        They wandered around the seashore, which like Y/N had said, was a fifteen-minute walk, for about half an hour before turning back to the woods.

        By that point, she’d somewhat calmed down, and could actually comprehend what Chris and Florence were saying to her, and it was rather enjoyable to ask all the questions about Hollywood and the industry most people wouldn’t say on the record. 

        At around four PM when all of them got back to set and Olivia came to tell them they were wrapping up for the day, Florence, and Chris split from Y/N, telling her to come by whenever she wanted, while Harry said he’d walk her to the end of the trail.

        “You know I’ll be fine. I grew up here, know these paths like the back of my hand.”

        “ ‘S alright,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure they won’t mind much if I come back ten minutes later.”

        “You know, you’re not how I thought you’d be.”

        “What’dya mean?”

        “I – I don’t even really know… just not how I imagined you.”

        Harry didn’t know what to really do with that information, but the look on Y/N’s face most definitely didn’t seem like she meant it in a bad way. In fact, her shy smile and fleeting glances told him otherwise. At least he hoped he read her features right.

        They said goodbye with soft ‘see you laters' and he watched her throw one last glance at him over her shoulder before he himself retreated and ventured to the trailers to start de-shedding the character of Jack for the night.

        Harry plopped down in his seat with a groan, fishing out his phone from the pocket while the hair and make-up team did their work, taking the products off his face before applying moisturiser to the stressed skin.

        Florence poked him in the cheek, and he swatted away at her hand, looking up from Instagram (or his attempts to find Y/N with just knowing her first name). “What’s wrong?” she asked, poking his pouting face again.

        “She literally fangirled about everyone but me.” He huffed sliding down even further in his seat. 

        Florence raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, Styles?”

        “No,” he scoffed crossing his arms. “Why would I be jealous?”

        “Because literally both mornings that we've got here, you’ve been fidgety, keeping a watch of the path, and didn't calm down until Y/N appeared just now. So I’d say you’re absolutely smitten with the girl and are jealous because she’s more of a fan of us than you.”

        “I know she likes me.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I think. She hasn’t told me to fuck off.”

        “She’s a stranger you met in the middle of the woods. You should hope she likes you. But not too much. Otherwise, it could so easily become a scene out of a horror movie.”

        Chris bit his lip looking at Olivia, who’d come in the trailer after having seen the group come back with an almost heartbroken gaze – it was clear as a summer’s day Harry was struck by the girl, but they had to face the music. “Harry,” he started. “You – you do realise we end filming here in two weeks, right? And she’s a local.”

        “And?” his eyebrows furrowed at Chris’ words.

        “You’ll be leaving in two weeks for another three months of filming, while she stays here. I don’t – I don’t want to see you hurt, but you have to realise that most likely nothing will happen.”

        “And what makes you say that? Maybe she could come with.”

        “Y/N is her own person with her own life, job and friends, which, as it seems is all set here.”

        “Besides you don't really even know her,” Olivia said as well. “It's been two days."

        “Sometimes a day is enough.”

        A silence settled over them, as Harry tapped his phone against his nails.

        “You guys, come on!” Florence came to his defence. “He likes her. Why not give it a shot?”

He'd flashed her a thankful smile and mouthed a 'thank you' to which she just gave him an encouraging nod. She was on his side. She believed he could do it. And he did. Using Florence's faith in him as a catalyst, a day later when Y/N had gone on her run with Adam, Harry had excused himself and joined the two. 

        Adam was thrilled to the bone, but he was also competitive, so after ten minutes of trying to persuade the woman to run faster so he could beat his previous time, he took off on his own, with a promise of meeting up by the shore. That’s when Harry grabbed Y/N by her bicep and stalled them both, confusion written all over her features.

        “I uh,” he started. “I wanted to ask you something.”

        “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

        “I – “ he stuttered taking in a deep breath. “I – uh – and you have zero obligations to respond, but uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me sometime?”

        That made Y/N do a double-take. “You want to go out? On a date? With me?”

        “Ye – yeah.” It was uncertain how the word came out, but it felt so good to say it. “Yes, I really do.”

        “Sorry.” She shook her head looking at the ground with furrowed brows. “Sorry’s just, kinda hard to believe it.”

        “ ‘Nd why’s that?”

        “Well because the first time we met, I looked like a sweaty mess, the second, I could barely function around your friends and co-workers, and now, well now I look like a sweaty mess again.”

        “So?”

        “I just –” Y/N laughed but waved him off. “Never mind.”

         Fear instantly took hold of his core at her statement, so he rushed to salvage what could be salvaged. “No, I mean if you don’t want, you - you don’t have to say ‘yes’. I’m not gonna be upset or any –“

        “Harry!” This time Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his ramblings. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

        “You – you would?”

        “Yes.” Her smile blinded him like the golden rays of sun which broke through the overcast sky. “I’d like to very much so.”

        But it was Y/N’s tearful huff, a storm cloud compared to the warm light from his memories, which brought him out of the fond thoughts and into the icy right now.

        “Because unless it revolves around Harry Styles, it doesn’t matter, right?” she let out a pained laugh. “Because unless he’s there to have all the spotlight on him, it’s not important. Unless it’s not something he wants to take part in, it immediately needs to be cancelled or rescheduled because god forbid someone made plans without him.”

        He grunted in disagreement. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

        “No,” she snapped, snatching her purse and coat. “I get it. Very clearly. I’ll show myself out.”

        “Don’t be so dramatic!”

        She scoffed, glaring at him. “Call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

        The door slammed shut, and Harry sat down onto the sofa to scream into a pillow.

***

        Y/N’s sight was blurry as she drove down the street. A light snow had started to fall over London, so she was twice as careful, knowing Londoners had zero clue how to function when snow hit, and no one had winter tires.

        “Fuck,” she choked out, wiping away at her cheeks.

        She’d had fights with Harry before, it wasn’t like they were perfect. From the outside they looked like nothing could ever be wrong, but they were human. They had flaws and tempers and ideas and beliefs, and sometimes they clashed, but it’d never been as bad as it was that night. 

        She loved Harry, Y/N truly did. She’d even had dreams of the two of them in some far-off cottage in the Italian mountains living a domestic life, but she also just wanted one night to herself. To let loose and think about her own needs and wants, while Harry was away doing the same. It wasn’t selfish, not in her mind. 

        It’d been her who’d uprooted her whole life to be closer to Harry, not the other way around. She was always the one cancelling and making new plans with her family or friends just so she could spend a spare second with Harry. She was there for his sleepless nights and there for his knock-out concerts. Why couldn't he let her have this one thing?

        She was sitting by the wheel at a red light taking in deep breaths to calm herself down. 

        The light turned green, and her hand was slightly shaking as she changed gears.

        Y/N released the clutch and pressed down on the gas.

        Two lights came rushing from the side.

        She gasped.

        A sharp pain went through her side.

        And then it was all black.

***

Anne was going to rip Harry a new one, as she rang him for the fifteenth time, but he still didn't pick up. After the accident and the nurses being unable to contact Harry, they obviously called Y/N’s parents which were next on the emergency contact's list, but given how they lived outside of the UK and the next flight was only in four days, they immediately reached out to Anne, begging for her to go be with their daughter while they got there.

“And please tell Harry to fly over as well!” Y/N’s mum had cried. “I – I know he has work, but please.”

Anne had been shocked to hear Y/M/N ask that, having assumed he was already there, but she wasn’t going to let them get to Harry before she set him straight herself. 

In the beginning, she’d been kind of sceptical, but after spending an evening together where Y/N, her and Gemma all did wine baking, and it had ended up in a disaster in the kitchen with the three of them crying from laughter while Harry stood at the entrance completely baffled and just so done with them, Anne knew Y/N only had good intentions with her son.

        Anne’s love for her only grew from that point on, when she also realised just how much Y/N’s love language was giving. It wasn’t the kind of ‘hey, look, I bought you some fancy thing, now love me’, it was ‘hey, I saw how much you wanted this, I noticed how much it’d mean to you, and I love how happy it makes you. And if it reminds you of me, that’s just a bonus’, and Anne couldn’t help but become as protective of Y/N as her own kids. 

        But at that moment, as finally, after her twenty-seventh attempt, Harry picked up with a gruff ‘ ‘ello?’, Anne was about to burst with rage.

“You get to the hospital right now!” she hissed into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” There was a tremble in his voice. 

The thing was, for two days since Y/N had stormed out, Harry’d been feeling sick. He thought it was due to the stress from the fight and from the pressure his label was putting on him, but now he understood it wasn’t that. It was his instinct telling him something bad had happened, and at Anne’s words, the bad feeling that’d settled in his stomach made his blood run cold. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N was in a car accident, and you didn’t bother to pick up your phone.”

“I –” He stammered unable to process her words. “What? Mum? No…”

“You’re her emergency contact,” Anne spoke. “The hospital tried to call you a billion times, and you didn’t pick up.” 

And that’s when he remembered all of those calls from unknown numbers. He thought they’d been some crazed fans who’d gotten his personal number, so he’d just blocked them. “Mum, no.” Harry choked out. “I didn’t mean to – we fought – mum…”

“She’s at St. Helen’s. Please get here.”

He immediately ended the call, and in the span of twenty minutes was at the hospital, which Anne was sure to scold him for because there was no way in hell anyone who didn’t speed would be able to get to St. Helen’s in less than forty minutes. The second she saw her son burst through the door, tear tracks down his face, all the anger and disappointment vanished. 

“Where is she? Is she alive? Y/N!” he yelled across the hallway. “Where is she? Mum! Where’s Y/N?”

“Gem.” She patted her daughter’s knee as both of them stood up from where they’d been sitting at the chairs outside the recovery room assigned to Y/N. “Get a nurse, please.”

Gemma didn’t need an explanation or reasoning seeing Harry’s wild eyes, erratic breathing and shaky hands. 

“Mum!” He practically sprinted after seeing the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Calm down, Harry,” she shushed him, pulling him in for a hug and feeling his whole body tremble. “Calm down, it’s alright. Gem’ll get you some help, but you need to breathe.”

“I – I’m not the one who needs help!” Harry pretty much screamed. “I need to know if my girlfriend is alive.”

Anne spoke in a calm voice as to not agitate him even more, and her heart broke at the sight of her son so utterly broken. “Harry, you’re about to have a panic attack, and you’re no use to Y/N in that kind of state.”

“So.” He took in a chocked back breath. “So she’s alive?” He didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was anything else but a resounding ‘yes’. There was no version in his brain of where his life could possibly lead but down if he had to go on without Y/N.

“Yes,” Anne nodded, smoothing his hair away from his face, and watching as he took in a deep breath of relief. “She was just wheeled in for her second surgery. Should be out in about four hours. ”

All over again his insides froze. “Second? Mum, tell me the truth – how bad is it?”

“Harry, this is routine,” Gemma put a reassuring hand on his shoulder having returned with a nurse behind her, the man keeping a close eye on Harry and his behaviour. “They did as much as they could the first time, but their priority was on the worst injuries. This one is just to set things properly.”

“Set everything right like – “

“Like bones and stuff…” Gemma shuddered, trailing off. “Y/N broke her hip, dislocated her kneecap, her ankle was shattered and she fractured her collarbone. They took her in so that the bones could be properly placed together and there’s a lesser chance of complications not only while healing but later on in life. But can you please sit down? So they can help you as well?”

“I – alright,” he conceded, taking a place on one of the stiff plastic benches, as the nurse came to him, took his pulse, gave him an inhalator just in case and some herbal tablets to help him relax a bit.

“You said they focused on the worst injuries.” Harry looked at his mother. “What were those?”

Anne sighed, leaning to sit back on the chair next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “A piece of debris punctured one of her kidneys. The bleeding was pretty intense, but they say it was salvageable, so she’ll still have both of them. Gem donated some blood.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, looking over at his sister who wiped a stray tear away from his cheek.

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Y/N is family. If she’d lost the kidney, I’d give her mine in a second.”

“The worst they’re worried about is the head injuries,” Anne said. “Luckily, she got away without anything major, but she definitely has a concussion and minor whiplash to her neck, so they want to keep an eye out for any side effects that could arise. They have another surgery scheduled for her in a week if recovery goes as planned. To take the stitches that won’t dissolve out and put in the ones that will.”

        Harry sagged against his mother’s side, her palms soothingly running up and down his back. “She’s gonna be alright, love,” Anne muttered in his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “She’s strong. She’ll be okay.”

        It was comforting for both of them – for Anne to have her youngest in her arms, to know he was safe and sound, and for Harry to be held by his mother, the person who always knew how to comfort him when times were rough, and at that moment, they were the roughest they’d ever been.

        “You’ve got some nerve to be here.” Adam’s seething voice pulled Harry away from his mother’s embrace and watched as he rounded the corner with a coffee cup. He was quite sure he was keeping his temper well in check from how hard he was gripping the Styrofoam cup. “Fucking ignore her for two days while she’s laying in the hospital, and appear when it’s convenient for you? Is she some fucking toy for you to use when you want?”

        Anne’s tone was consoling and pleading. “He didn’t know.”

        “The hell he didn’t, he just didn’t want to know! They called you!” Adam pointed at the nurse’s desk. “And you let them go to voicemail. And then, better yet, you fucking blocked the number.”

        “I didn’t know it was the hospital,” he weakly defended himself.

        “Because you didn’t bother to find out.”

        He didn’t have anything to say to that. And not that he really could think of anything when the surgery ward’s doors swung open and they watched as a nurse wheeled Y/N’s gurney back inside the room, while another wheeled her saline bag along with. 

It was a terrifying sight to see. Her face was basically nothing but a swollen piece of flesh, bruises and scratches littering her cheeks, a neck brace to keep her head from moving while one leg was wrapped in a full-on cast, the other in one up until her knee and her left arm was in a sling.

        He’d had nightmares about her before. Most of the times it was about Y/N leaving him because she could no longer do it, could no longer commit to the hectic lifestyle that came with Harry, and as he screamed, banging on the invisible window that separated them, she just walked away, his sobs carried by the wind in the other direction.

        “You should go inside,” Anne whispered motioning with her head to where the nurses checked the monitors and how stable Y/N was. “I know you had a fight, but she’ll want you to be there when she wakes up.”

        “How,” Harry gulped back the lump that’d risen in his throat. “How do you know? How do you know she doesn’t want me to just disappear? I wasn’t there when she needed me, I was – “

        Anne put her hand on his cheek. “Because when she woke up yesterday morning for the first time, you were the first person she asked for. You. She wants you there. And it’s the least you can do for her.”

        He nodded, then took a deep breath and entered Y/N’s room. Watching her lay in the bed, unmoving, without her usual grumpy features as she slept, made Harry sick to the stomach so much so, he thought he’d have to call back the nurse.

        It was some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty, yet he knew a true loves kiss wouldn’t awaken her. Y/N just laid there, small breaths making her chest rise and fall, not even a flutter of her eyelids.

        Harry had spent countless night watching her sleep, looking at how her lashes fluttered as she dreamed of something; how her forehead creased and small, incoherent noises passed her lips as she talked to someone in her mind.

        Now, he was surrounded by none of that, only artificial reminders that she was still alive and fighting to get better.

        With uneven steps, Harry made his way to the chair which’d been stationed next to her bed (he was convinced beyond belief that Gemma, his mum and Adam had all taken shifts to sit there, to be there for Y/N), and much like a king who knew he was unfit for the throne, Harry had to swallow a lump as he took the seat.

        “I – I don’t know if you can hear me…” Harry took hold of Y/N’s palm and let out a sob of relief when he felt it was warm, not cold like he’d feared. “But I’m here for you. I’m not leaving. Not unless you want me to, so until you wake up…” there were so many words, so many apologies he wanted to say, but kept them at bay. Y/N deserved to hear them when she was conscious, so instead, he said, “I’m here, lovie. Get some rest, I’ll be here…”

        With that he put his head on the side of her bed, twisting his face so he could look up at her, watch her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and fell asleep to the sound the beeps of Y/N’s beating heart.

        While he slept he dreamt again, the same terrifying dream of Y/N leaving, only this time she did look back at him, but her face was all wrong, her neck bent in a way it shouldn’t be, and eyes covered in a milky white. 

        “You weren’t there, Harry,” she said in a voice void of emotions. “So why should I be there for you?”

        Harry was 100% sure if he’d been hooked up to a heart rate monitor while he slept, people would think he was going into cardiac arrest, but it sure would’ve shown it flatlining as his green eyes swept over his lover’s frame to check his nightmare hadn’t become a reality, only to be met with two Y/E/C sparkling orbs looking back at him, giving him the softest gaze in the universe.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone was quiet, afraid to bring even the littlest of discomfort to Y/N given her state, and he had to physically restrain himself from sweeping down to bring her in a hug. 

What he saw on her face made his heart leap to his throat, as she smiled, genuinely happy to see him, lifting up her right hand, the only limb without a bandage on to cup his cheek. “Hey, love.” Her voice was scratchy like nails on a chalkboard, but to Harry, it was an absolute symphony. “Are you alright? Your eyes are puffy. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

        “Fuck,” Harry choked on his tears looking up at the white ceiling before back at her, complete disbelief in his blood-shot eyes. “You’re the one lying in a hospital bed, with casts and bandages all over you, scheduled for a third surgery, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

        If Y/N could, she would’ve shrugged as if that wasn’t the most self-explanatory thing in the world. “I’ll always want to know if you’re alright. ‘S not exclusively you that can care for people, you know.”

        And there she was – his sarcastic, allergic-to-kiwi-but-‘Kiwi’-loving girl that never ceased to amaze him, as she made sure everyone else was alright before herself. And that made Harry break down. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N. So fucking sorry. I – god – I – there are not enough words in any language to say how fucking sorry I am. I should’ve been here, should’ve never let you leave. This is all my fault.”

Through all that, through his choked back sobs and crying, Y/N’s hand had steadily remained on his cheek, wiping away the tears from underneath one eye before switching to the other side and making the little pearls of hurt disappear with just her touch. 

“Harry, are you the weatherman?”

That was not what he thought she would say. “I – what?”

“Do you control temperatures and have not told me?”

“N – no?”

“Were you the guy who ran the red light?”

“No.”

        “Then how is this your fault?”

        “I – “ he stammered. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should’ve gone after you, found a way to make you stay or – or should’ve fucking stopped being so selfish and driven you to see Adam yourself.”

        “Harry, had you tried to make me stay nothing would’ve changed.” Y/N sighed letting him lean into her touch, as she bit her lip, thinking over her words. “I was just so pissed, that I think anything you would’ve tried to do, would’ve only made it worse. And I’d rather be here with you than alone in my apartment crying in a tub of Hagen Dazs because of a broken heart.”

        “You-you've got your priorities completely backwards.” He wasn’t laughing when he said that, but Y/N was.

        “Maybe.” She raised her eyebrow. “But I don’t think so. The bones will heal, but the amount of love I have for you… I’m afraid you’ve ruined the thought of a future without you in it. We’ll talk,” Y/N swallowed hard. “We need to talk, but when I get better. Right now, I just wanna hold your hand and have you hold mine as I try not to kick the nurses trying to take my blood for tests.”

        It felt inappropriate for Harry to smile, to feel happy about how Y/N hadn’t told him to go screw himself, even though he felt like he deserved it, but fuck was it impossible not to when his body felt so light, and her love chose to invade the dark corners of his mind to fill it with golden warmth.

        She fell asleep not long after their small conversation, body too tired and in need of recovery, but like he’d promised, he was there for her when she awoke again, this time to a more familiar Y/N as she glared at the coffee cup in his hand, while he sipped, a ring clad palm gently pushing away strands of Y/H/C hair from her face.

        “I hate that you can drink coffee.”

        “Yeah, and why’s that?”

        “Because I can’t.”

        “I’ll happily buy you as many coffees as you like. Once you get better and are allowed to, of course.”

        Y/N snorted and then winced as the action caused pain to shoot through her body. “Knowing you, it won’t be a cup of coffee or a coffee machine, but a fucking coffee chain restaurant.”

        “Would it be that bad to own one?”

        Her eyebrow rose at him in an incredulous look. “You know I can’t bake. Coffee shops include pastries, and I’m not the one who worked in a bakery. I can cook, I can clean, but make me make muffins from scratch, and I’ll set your house on fire.”

        “You already did.” Harry laughed. “Gem and mum helped.”

        “They supplied the wine, so I’m putting 60% of the blame on them.”

        “You do realise that equates to 30% of the blame on each of them, and most of it is still on you?”

        “Shut up,” Y/N smiled, weakly pushing against Harry’s arm, but the motion made him happy to know she was trying. “I was just in a car crash, so forgive me for not being that great at division.”

        A knock at the door made Harry look up, Y/N not even attempting to turn her head to see who’d interrupted them, given how the first time she’d tried it with the neck-brace, it’d hurt so bad she’d passed out.

        Her doctor was a man in his mid to late fifties with greying hair, Y/N’s medical record file slapped underneath his arm.

        “How are we doing today?”

        “Better than yesterday, I guess,” she responded. 

        “Well, you were out for most of it, so I’d say so.”

        Y/N and the doctor chuckled, but Harry didn’t, as he thought of how bad, how absolutely tired a person has to be to sleep for a whole day. He’d had those days himself, and that was from being exhausted from work. He couldn't imagine what being in a bloody accident would feel like. 

        The doctor stepped forward a bit and extended a hand to Harry, introducing himself as Dr Tate, while Harry rose in his seat to accept it, but not wanting to move away an inch from Y/N.

        “You must be the boyfriend.”

        “I – uh – I can only hope I still am,” he let out a nervous giggle, which made his girlfriend slap his arm, a furrow on her face.

        Dr Tate looked Harry over from head to toe, eyebrow raised at that, but all he said was, “We tried to contact you, seeing as you’re Miss Y/L/N emergency contact, but the nurses said it couldn’t go through.”

        “He was filming overseas.” Y/N butted in, clearly having rehearsed what to say beforehand. “Flew over as fast as he could. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” Her tone was soft as a feather, but Harry’s stomach felt like it was filled with rocks. 

        “Is there anything I can help with?” he asked hoping to be given some sort of a task to do, to allow him to redeem himself some way.

        “Well, actually yes. One of the injuries Ms Y/L/N sustained was a concussion,” the doctor said, “which could lead to some complications like headaches, migraines, spotty vision or amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Harry wanted to vomit. It had crossed his mind, but having a professional say it made it all so much worse. 

        “Yes, and we’d need someone to be with her as much as possible, 24/7 would be desirable, to keep an eye on.”

        Harry honestly hadn’t heard anything past the amnesia part, mind spinning in a circle that just screamed ‘she’ll forget all about you’.

“It’s nothing to worry about too much.” Dr Tate was quick on his feet, seeing Harry’s blank stare, and tried to diffuse any possible spiralling. “With Y/N’s cognitive abilities and having repeatedly excelled at the test without a single stutter, it’s very unlikely she’ll have those side effects. 

“But it’s still a possibility, right?”

The doctor nodded, giving Harry a kind smile. “Which is why I’m informing you of it. To keep an eye out to see if anything changes so you could come in if necessary. But as I said – Y/N’s memory has proven to be intact so far. And I always say to trust the facts.”

“Harry,” Y/N placed her hand on his. “You know I won’t forget you.”

“I’ll uh, give you two a second.” The doctor exited leaving them alone, an almost sad silence over both of them. 

“God I almost lost you to some idiot running a red light with no winter tires, and now you won’t remember me. And – and even with everything you’re going through, you’re still trying to protect me? Why did you lie? I – I wouldn’t have cared if you said the truth that I was an asshole.” Harry dragged both hands over his face, trying to keep the cry’s at bay as Y/N ran her hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“I’d prefer to think,” Y/N shrugged trying to tease him and make him crack a smile, “me being dead would be the worst-case scenario, not me forgetting you. And of course, I’ll protect you. Your reputation matters to me. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I’ll immediately run to everyone I can and say how shitty of a person you were in those specific ten minutes.”

But Harry’s lips didn’t quirk up, the tears didn’t disappear as the painful grimace on his face wasn’t replaced by the crow lines next to his eyes from smiling so much. “What if you – what if you forget you love me? What do I do then? I know I sound selfish and like the biggest fucking dick, but as pathetic as it is – I can’t go on without you. I don’t know how I could.”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words because if the roles were reversed if Harry forgot about her and fell out of love, she didn't know how she'd survive. She’d had those fears before, when he was away filming and she couldn’t follow; she’d been terrified because what they’d had was so new, he could easily move on, find someone better, someone who was familiar with his lifestyle. But any time those thoughts came to her mind, Y/N reminded herself of what she’d do. And that’s what she told Harry.

        “Then you make me fall in love with you again. You’re great at that. Make me love you more with every passing moment.”

        “And – and if you don’t fall in love with me again?”

        Y/N shook her head. “Impossible, Harry. You made me fall in love with you after barely two hours spent together. And well, if you put your mind to it… who knows how much deeper I’ll fall.”

        For the first time in two days, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. The kiss was soft and sweet, a barely-there touch, but it meant everything. It was a promise to one another to love unconditionally, to remind the other of it at every passing moment; it sealed their future to be spent together, and neither wanted it any other way.

        Harry’s phone rang, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he pulled away to answer it. “It’s Florence.” He pecked her lips one more time. “I’ll just tell her to call back.”

        He turned to the side for a second muttering a soft ‘hey, can you –‘ before whatever Florence told him made him pull away and extend the deivice towards Y/N.

        “It’s for you.”

        “For – for me? Florence is calling me?”

        Had the two women become friends? Yes. But didn’t mean Y/N had an easier time not fangirling about her. 

        “Hi, Flo,” she breathed out, looking at Harry with wide, happy eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

        Harry sat there watching as his love talked to someone she looked up to, and someone he cared about. He hadn’t told Florence, but her encouragement meant the world to him, as she was partially the reason he’d gotten together with Y/N. After all, she’d been the one on his side from the very beginning.

        Y/N giggled like a crazy person after the call ended and she handed Harry back his phone. “Florence Pugh just called to give me well wishes.” She gasped looking at Harry. “Do you think Chris Pine will too?”

        “God, I love you,” Harry laughed with her, pressing their foreheads together.

        They’d be alright, they’d make sure of it. No matter if a disagreement arose, egos needed to be put in check or black ice covered the roads. They’d get through anything. 

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: Listen, Linda, those pictures of Harry on set does things!!!

Also the being allergic to kiwi - that’s me. Like legit it’s the only thing I’m allergic to. I always hated how they tasted like pain, like it made my mouth sting and feel like pins and needles before going numb, and according to professionals, that’s a sign of being allergic. But I love ‘Kiwi’ the song. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(

[wrestlingisfake]

Any thoughts on the Plane Ride From Hell episode of Dark Side of the Ring?

I went in thinking there wasn't much of a story to the incident, but Heidi Doyle changed my mind.

I think most of the attention is going to be on Doyle's account of being cornered by a naked Ric Flair, and Scott Hall trying to lick her. That's where the story crosses the line, and you can no longer pretend it's just a wild anecdote about wrestlers being idiots. However, I think Doyle's larger point is that no one should have to put up with any of the wrestlers' horseplay. She doesn't believe Flair or Hall were trying to rape her or anything, but that doesn't give anybody a pass to say it was no big deal and she should lighten up.

The Dark Side team seems to have framed this episode as an examination of the wrestling bubble. The WWE alumni know shit was fucked up, but clearly believe that was just how it was back then, and the situation was unavoidable on a long flight with an open bar. Terri Runnels is so conditioned to no-sell all the bullshit that the interviewer has to stop and kind of point out how messed up that is. Being an outsider, Doyle bursts the bubble, holding "the boys" accountable to the same standard as the rest of us. Tommy Dreamer is so deep in the bubble that he can't see past the issue of protecting the business.

Dreamer comes off terribly in this thing. I'm sure that, to him, Doyle and anybody else who complained about the incident are just nameless, faceless buzzkills trying to railroad the great Ric Flair. He has no idea that his soundbites are being juxtaposed with Doyle, who is visibly upset 20 years later and makes a very sound argument for why this still matters. So you hear her say it's worth speaking out if even one person learns to be more considerate of others' feelings, and then he's on some bizarre tangent about how somebody will find an excuse to be offended by his hairstyle.

There will probably be discourse about re-evaluating Flair's legacy, and whether "cancel culture has gone too far" for the 700th time. But honestly I'm more bothered by Dreamer. There's this whole carny, us-against-them mentality in pro wrestling, which I think has done far more harm than good, and Tommy's attitude shows that it's still alive and well in 2021.

[kiwikipedia]

Cin Drallig didn’t have Clones under his command. We know this, he wasn’t a General, he was the Battlemaster and head of the Temple Guard Security. But I propose an AU.

It starts with a small choice. After a long day of standing and doing quite literally nothing for hours on end, the Temple Guards who were on the day shift disperse into Coruscant. Technically not against the Jedi Way but going to get inebriated or just bar hopping for the fun of it— or worse, getting into the semi-illegal, underground, lower level fighting rings— wasn’t exactly something that the Jedi looked favorably upon.

But the Jedi Temple Guard get restless after standing still for so long, especially the newer Guards, and Cin pretends he doesn’t see when a group of his kids Guards come stumbling back in the early morning hours with credits won from a gambling match and wide grins.

Anyhow, like any other Jedi, the Guard do have friends among the rest of the Temple, so they know of the Clones and have obviously seen them when Jedi arrive and leave the temple with their Battalions, Companies, Platoons— you know, the usual. After a while, the Guards just... start showing up at 79s and interact with the Clones while there. Which is weird because, first of all, when dressed in civvie clothing, the Guard are practically unrecognizable as very few see their faces, but secondly these are just random Jedi coming up to Clones and buying them drinks, playing card games with them, or thanking them for their efforts on the Front.

Several ask for stories about the time on the Front because “We’re stuck on Coruscant and sure, the duty to protect the Temple is really important but we were all trained by Master Drallig beyond our own Padawan training. I’m pretty sure Master Drallig is just as restless as we are too” and they want to know about what they’re not allowed to go and see themselves. Of course, War is horrible, and more than one Guard is horrified about whats going on— especially when a certain Jedi’s battalion gets back Krell you bitc h im talking about you— and they all learn about the casualty numbers.

The Guard does talk in their free time, their masks have coms built into them— and Cin has an earpiece to keep in contact with the Guard as well. Though they seem to forget that he’s on their group link and they all start talking during shifts while they stand outside the doors or in the halls about the War and the Clones and, whoops, one of them lets it slip that they cant believe that the Clones are supposed to fight Darksiders without Lightsabers. Like sure, Blasters do damage, and certainly more than one Jedi has been gunned down ( “Rest in the Force, Master Di” is echoed through the link ) but really! Theres only so much their Armor can do for them! A lightsaber would cut through it like flimsi.

Cin, of course, startles them all by asking for confirmation that the Clones— who he had been told were all trained to be very skilled in combat— had no Saber training because remember, Cin and the Temple Guard knew very little about the Clones because they were told that “it’s not I mportant to tell you all, as you won’t be working with the Clones”

Once he has confirmation that no, the Clones didn’t have any Saber training and were expected to go up against Darksiders like Ventress and Dooku with just blasters and their bodies, he just sighs.

The next day he brings three of the Guard and also Bene with him down to the Barracks— and a shit ton of practice Sabers. And who else was there but the Clone Dad ™ we all know and love? That’s right, and guess who thinks training the Clones to use lightsabers is a great idea and “Well, now I wonder why I hadn’t thought of it first, Master Drallig”? 

Plo fucking Koon.

So of course, the 104th is put through what the Padawans had called “Training Hell”— especially since the Clones don’t have years between deployments like the Initiates had before becoming padawans. The Six forms are taught, Cin brings in more of the Guard who have mastered their respective Forms and Bene has fun with the Boys ™ as well because she goes through katas with them, wipes the floor in practice duels with others, and now the Guard has to compete with the 104th (and Plo) spoiling Bene.

( ”You’re spoiling my Padawan, Master Koon” “[laughter] your padawan? I think you mean ours” “If that’s the case then our men should know not to spoil her so much. The Guard do a fantastic job on their own.” )

( This is, of course, without even bothering to ask the Council or the GAR’s higher ups, this is all on his and the Guard’s own actions— its easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. But hey, if Plo Koon was on board than Cin has a leg up if it get brought to the Council anyways. )

When the 104th leaves for the Front again, guess whose Clones are next— the 501st. This time the rumors are going around that the 104th is suddenly more vicious than before and the 501st is eager to know what happened while they were on shore-leave. They soon regret it, because Training Hell is— well— Hell. Anakin and Ahsoka have flashbacks to when they went through Training Hell and Bene laughs at them.

Slowly, each Clone battalion, platoon, company and so on are being trained by a near constant rotation of the Temple Guard, Bene, and Cin— and their own Jedi as well. A few knights that Cin personally trained— like Serra Keto— as well join in when they can. Cin puts in a request to go to Illum and gather more Kyber Crystals for more “training sabers” but half the Council who know and approve of Cin’s actions already know— the man’s planning on making at least a thousand lightsabers for the Vode to pass around.

The Temple Guard have a Lightsaber Building Night where they assemble the “training sabers” together and talk about their Clones because the Vode might have their Jedi Generals, but the Guard have claimed all of the ones they’ve trained as theirs too. Especially the Coruscant Guard.

Bene happily gives Fox, Thorn, Thire, Stone, and Hound their lightsabers first, having assembled all of them with Serra.

(And now for the angst)

It’s all well and good— the GAR starts gaining more ground, less Clones are dying.

And then Operation Knightfall and Order 66 hit.

The Jedi on the ground cannot possibly raise their sabers to these men that they helped train, cant possibly defend from blaster shots while also blocking lightsaber strikes that were taught under the Battlemaster’s strict teaching because he taught them to keep them alive—

And in the Temple?

Well, after Grand Inquisitor murdered all the Guard he could find, even after everything, those that remain are just horrified as they are forced into battle with their vode. Certainly, Cin’s job of protecting the Temple from the Clones is much harder than before, now that they’re armed with Lightsabers and it hurts because “by gods what have I done, I’ve given them the means to kill us all—” but also “I trained these men, they were like the Guard, like my sons—”

Instead of Vader, Cin’s murdered by six lightsaber wielding clones after a split second of faltering because gods he can’t.

And for a split second, when the sabers enter his body, the Clones behind them jolt awake— horrified as they realize that it’s Teacher Drallig on the other end, face twisted in pain as he falls and it’s little Bene’s choking gasps that are behind them as Vader strangles her to death.

But that split second is over too soon, and the Sabers are removed and the Clones move on— good soldiers follow orders, after all, and Teacher Drallig and Little Bene the Jedi Battlemaster and his student were just Traitors, after all. Good soldiers follow orders.

[narutogwriting]

dude your writing is superior, especially the Kiba one 🥵 would you consider making a part two to that one? I’m kinda hooked on the story now ngl

Thank you so much 🥺 Your guys’ asks make me so happy! Imma keep it real, I’m not stoked with how this one turned out, but I hope you like it!

Eat Your Words Pt 2

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: NSFW; creampie

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba is your jerk of an ex boyfriend. After making the mistake of sleeping with him again,  you have some harsh words for him that leave him reeling.

Inspired by me wanting Kiba to rail me into oblivion

Please don’t tag as NSFW!

“Hey, what’re you so upset for!?” Kiba called as you shoved him off of you and got out of his bed. God, why had you done that!? Kiba sits up, propped up on his elbows as he watches you march around the room, grabbing your clothes and pulling them back on. You shook your head, waiting until you were fully clothed before turning on him.

“Are you kidding me?!” You snapped. “This is the problem, Kiba! This has always been your problem.” Shaking your head, you picked up Kiba’s own shirt to throw at him. “You think you can solve everything with sex! You think that everything’s okay, and I’m gonna stay just because I let you fuck me?”

Kiba rolled his eyes at you, tossing his shirt back on the floor.  He lounged back in bed, his hands folded behind his head. Kiba obviously had no shame as he laid back completely naked, not even trying to cover up.

“I can’t help it if I have a magic dick.” He snickered. “Not my fault that the sex is that good.” Kiba shot you a wolfish grin, being playful and deflecting as he always did. Did he even know how to have a serious conversation?

Gritting your teeth, you stalked to the side of his bed, surprising him with your vehemency. He could feel the anger radiating off of you. “Let me tell you something, Kiba.” You spat, standing over him. “Yeah, you might be good at fucking,” you said the word pointedly, wanting to make sure he understood the distinction. “But sex? Intimacy? Making a girl feel really good?” You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea about that. Even if you go home with a girl every night for the rest of your life, you’re always gonna be alone.”

~

Those words stayed with Kiba, ringing in his head constantly as the days passed. What had you meant by all of that? He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, but something about it had shaken him to his core.

After you’d left, taking your shit with you just like you’d originally wanted, he’d gone straight to Ino’s house. He was pissed and annoyed and confused and needed some help letting out steam.

So he’d pounded her into the mattress doggy style, making her scream and moan just the way he liked. You’d told him he didn’t know how to make a girl feel good, but he thought that Ino would beg to differ. He spent an hour making her cum around his cock before he finally found his own release. When they collapsed into bed, Kiba found his arm slinking around Ino, something he usually didn’t do.

“That was good, right?” He asked her. 

“Oh yeah,” Ino sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “Great as always,” she told him as she made a move to get out of bed, but he stopped her with a squeeze to her hips. 

“Where ya going? I thought we could like, lay here, ya know? Cuddle and talk and shit.”

Turning to look at him, Ino gave Kiba an incredulous look, actually laughed at him, making him go red. “What the hell are you talking about?” She asked, pushing his hand off of her so she could get up. “That's… Not what this is.”

Feeling his cheeks burning, Kiba crossed his arms. “What do you mean ‘that’s not what this is’?” He muttered.

As Ino pulled on her top, she glanced back at him. “Kiba, you’re fun for like… a good time,” She explained gently. “But when it comes to that emotional shit, well, I have other guys I go to that for. That’s boyfriend shit, and you don’t exactly fit that bill…”

~

Kiba walked through the village, his head whirling. Did girls really not see him as boyfriend material? Just as a quick fuck? Kiba had never been super into relationships, really had only ever focused on hooking up before, but he’d never considered that maybe girls didn’t want to date him either. He was a catch! Wasn’t he?

He began to think more and more about what you’d meant, that he could fuck, but he didn’t know how to have sex? Well, what was the difference?

The brain has a way of picking up patterns. Once presented with new information, it will begin to recognize that information everywhere. That’s what was happening to Kiba, and it was happening specifically with you.

What had he been hoping for after you slept together? That you would look at him with heart eyes again and fall back head over heels? Break up with gyoza boy and come back to him? 

Well, yeah. That’s exactly what he’d been hoping.

Because, okay, yeah, he was aware that he wasn’t exactly the perfect boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t always as attentive to your needs as you were to his, was realizing that sometimes when you just wanted a kiss and a hug, he was dragging you back to the bedroom before he even recognized something might be wrong.

He was selfish and self-centered and arrogant and okay, now he got it. He was the worst boyfriend. And maybe you wouldn’t understand this, wouldn’t believe him and he couldn’t even blame you for it, but Kiba did love you. He loved you in the way he knew how.

And he could list it all out for you. He loved your eyes, how bright they were, and especially the way they lit up when you looked at him, like he was the center of your whole world. He loved the smile you got when you would see him for the first time all day. He loved the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were nervous and the giggle you gave when you were embarrassed.

Kiba loved how you’d pull him into the grass, tell him the stories you saw in the clouds. Some days you would stay there until the sky was dark and splattered with stars, and then you would tell him the stories they told too.

Kiba did love you, he really did. You were the first, the only girl he’d ever wanted to be in a relationship with. But he didn’t realize just how bad he was at showing it. 

So when you were yelling at him for the millionth time because he forgot another date night he’d sworn he’d plan, he didn’t get how upset you were, thought you were overreacting. You guys spent plenty of time together; why did this specific instance matter?

He was taken off guard, absolutely blown away, when you’d broken up with him. He hadn’t even bothered trying to argue with it because there was no way you were serious, right? He’d laughed, told you “sure thing,” and gone back home waiting for you to show up at his door.

He waited for a week before he’d realized you weren’t coming. 

And he couldn’t understand it, thought you were overreacting, and he was so pissed. Kiba wasn’t emotionally mature enough to realize what he was feeling wasn’t anger; it was actually heartbreak. So he’d gone out, gotten drunk, and went home with the first person that was willing.

Except they didn’t go home. Kiba took Ino right there in the alley outside the bar. Enough privacy that not everyone would see, but public enough that at least someone would see, and surely word would get back to you. 

Thinking about it now, he could see why that was so stupid. He’d only wanted to make you jealous, hadn’t even considered that it may leave your heart shattered. But he got it now. He understood very well how horrible you must’ve felt, because he felt it now, watching you with gyoza boy.

So maybe it was a little creepy--okay, a lot creepy--but he followed you and your boyfriend around when he saw the two of you out and about. You’d gone right from Kiba’s house to his, he guessed. Fine, let’s see what a good boyfriend he is then.

And Kiba could see it, all the things that this new guy did that he never had. You always had this bag you carried around with you no matter where you were, almost instinctively. It’d always annoyed Kiba for really no reason at all. But gyoza boy was carrying that bag for you, had it slung over his own shoulder as he held your hand.

Kiba had never really held your hand much. It’s not like he didn’t like it; it just didn’t cross his mind usually, and he didn’t really think it was that big of a deal. Gyoza boy not only held your hand, but he spun you around as you walked, not carrying how silly it looked. Kiba always cared.

He saw the way you laughed, how happy you appeared to be. When you talked, your boyfriend leaned into you, eyes locked on yours. It was clear that you had  his full, undivided attention. 

And really, those things were so small, but it was all you’d ever wanted. The little things, like having fun in public and those touches of affection and for someone, for Kiba, to just make you feel important. Nothing felt worse than being taken for granted by the person you loved the most.

Kiba realized just how neglectful he’d been.

~ “Kiba? Again?” Ino asked with a sly smile, leaning against her doorway. Kiba shook his head, rolling his eyes. “No, Ino. It’s not that. I need your help…”

~

Weeks had gone by since your mistaken hookup with Kiba. You’d beaten yourself up for that constantly. You’d felt like you had the upper hand when you broke up with him, but you gave the power right back to him when you let him in your pants knowing you had a boyfriend at home.

You’d broken up with “gyoza boy” just a a week after the hookup. The guilt from cheating on him with Kiba had been eating you alive, and besides that, there just wasn’t that spark. He was such a nice, sweet guy, but you didn’t feel anything when you were with him. Not like you did with Kiba. With him, you felt everything.

And speaking of Kiba, you were about to walk right past him. You definitely weren’t ready for that interaction. You steeled yourself, preparing for some snide comment or jab at you. You weren’t ready when Kiba stopped, smiling at you and asking you how you were.

“I’m fine…” You blinked, surprised.

“That’s good. It’s been a long time…” Kiba was being polite, making small talk, and it threw you.  You nodded awkwardly. “But, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He continued. “There’s a few more things you left at my house. If you wanted to come get them…”

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes. Of course. You should’ve known. “I’m busy right now,” you practically snapped. “I’ll stop by later. But my clothes will be staying on.”

When you did finally make your way to Kiba’s later that evening, it was with extreme reluctance. You were certain that all Kiba wanted was another excuse to try and get you into bed. You were going to do your absolute best to not engage any of his antics or let him get to you and end up like last time.

You knocked on the door, crossing your arms, preparing for a shirtless, or even just a boxer clad Kiba to open the door. Instead, he opened it wearing exactly what you’d seen him wearing earlier in the day. He was fully clothed, didn’t have that arrogant smirk on his face, and was opening the door to let you in rather than staring at you like a piece of meat. You didn’t think your guard had ever been up so high. Eyeing Kiba suspiciously, you stepped by him, entering the house and going to the table where a small box was. Shifting through it, they were all little things you definitely hadn’t been missing. A couple hair ties, a few bobbypins, even a sock without it’s match.

You couldn’t help but scowl. This wasn’t anything you needed. Kiba must’ve been luring you here to sleep with you again just like you thought.

You turned on him, shoving the box across the table. “Seriously, Kiba?” You glowered. “What the fuck would I want any of this for? You could’ve just tossed it. I’m leaving.” As you moved to push past him, Kiba saying your name made you stop. It was unwillingly, like your body was on autopilot, responding to his name instinctively. You couldn’t help but groan to yourself as you turned to glare at him. “What?” You snapped.

Kiba turned then, going to the counter and reaching behind it before pulling out a painting. He held it sheepishly in front of him for you to see.

It was two small figures, laying in the grass looking up at the blue sky with white clouds painted against the backdrop. In all honesty, it looked like something a child would have made, but you were pretty sure by the red on Kiba’s cheeks that he’d done it. “What is it?” You asked him.

“A story.” Kiba replied, moving closer. “It’s in the clouds, ya see? A story about a guy who was a complete idiot and who lost the girl that he really loved, and how it took losing her to see how dumb he really was.” He pointed to the clouds which looked like blobs instead of cohesive shapes, but you knew what he meant. You always used to tell him stories, random things you made up when looking at the sky. It was one of the only times you ever thought Kiba was really listening to you.

Setting the picture down, Kiba stepped closer to you. “It’s a present… I just wanted to give it to you to say I’m sorry… I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other, and I realized that you were right. I was a really bad guy to you, and you deserved better.”

Despite how skeptical you may have been under usual circumstances, you could see right away that Kiba was being serious. There was no facade or part he was playing. He was being open and honest with you, and you were taken aback by his gesture. He’d actually painted you a picture of one of your favorite things to do with him. It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever received.

“You made this for me?” You whispered.

“You don’t gotta believe me…” Kiba continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you deserved an apology. You were always so good to me, and I really loved you for that.. But I also realized I took you for granted. It’s my biggest regret. I never wanted to lose you, but I know that you deserve to have a guy that spoils you and loves you in ways you can feel it.”

Your heart was fluttering as you felt heat rising to your cheeks. Where was all this coming from? All you’d ever wanted from Kiba was for him to say something like this, to put in some effort and show he cared.

“What… what made you realize all of this?”

Kiba paused for a second, blushing before finally answering. “After you put me in my place last time, Ino told me I wasn’t boyfriend material… It was all pretty humbling, not gonna lie.” He gave a small snicker. “I really got my ass handed to me. Then later that day, I saw you with gyoza boy and how happy you were… It really put everything into perspective. I’m glad you’re happy with him, though. I hope he treats you better than I did…  But it made me want to change. The past few weeks, Ino has basically been pointing out every single flaw I have for me to fix.” He shrugged. “It’s been rough. I knew I had one or two, but turns out I have a lot.” You’d never seen Kiba so earnest and vulnerable before. You felt yourself getting hopeful, even though you weren’t sure for what. “Actually…” You admitted, meeting his gaze. “I broke up with gyoza boy a few weeks ago.”

That took Kiba off guard. His eyes widened considerably as he spluttered all over his words. “O-oh, you did? T-that’s… That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”

The laugh came out of you before you could stop it. “No you’re not,” You told him, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it with a big grin. “I’m not…” He admitted. “But I do just want you to be happy.”

There was a pause that lingered between the two of you. The hope began to bubble in your stomach, rising up and squeezing your heart. You wanted to be happy, too, but you wanted to be happy with Kiba. You loved him too, as much as you tried to hide it. And now, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to be the person you always knew he could be.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you grabbed his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. He made a noise of surprise before finally relaxing into it, kissing you back softly. His hand went to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

Then suddenly, he was pulling back, staring down at you with a conflicted expression. “Wait, are you sure?” He asked you. “I don’t want to rush anything, ya know, or mess things up…” 

A small smile played on your lips. He really was changing. “I want to be with you, Kiba. That is… If you still want to be with me?”

Kiba grinned. “So you’re giving me a second chance?” In response, you kissed him again, this time more earnestly than the last. You melted into him easily, everything about him familiar. One of Kiba’s hands was cupping your cheek as his tongue slid across your bottom lip.

Without breaking the kiss, you began to back him up, wanting to go to his room. “Wait,” Kiba was mumbling against your lips, causing you to just hum in response. “We don’t have to do anything,” He tried again. 

The two of you were in his room by now. You finally pulled away,  breathing heavy. “I want to,” You told him, staring up at him with wide, lusting eyes.

Kiba paused, wanting to be sure you were sure. Then he smiled, pulling you into him again. You made a move to pull off your shirt, but he stopped you. “I got this, baby.” He murmured against your neck, laying you down on his bed. 

Kiba continued to lay soft, open mouth kisses as he hovered over you, his hands running down your sides before moving back up, slipping up under your shirt. You shivered feeling the cold of his hands as he began to nip and suck at your skin.

He broke the kiss to pull at the hem of your shirt, peeling it slowly from your body. With it tossed aside, he reattached his lips to your neck, kissing agonizingly slow down to your collarbone. “Kiba,” You whined, your hands going to fumble with the buttons on his pants.

“Not uh, baby girl…” Kiba smirked, taking your hands and pinning them above your head with one of his. “‘Mma take care of you.” The way he breathed the words against your skin made you tremble.

With his free hand, he reached under you to unhook your bra. He released his hold on your hands to pull the fabric from your body before pinning you down again. Kiba kissed lower until he got to your breasts.

His tongue traced over your nipple lightly, making your back arch. You could feel his prideful smile against your skin. His free hand began to massage your breast as he took the entire nipple in his mouth, sucking as he let his tongue flick over the nipple again and again before switching to the other one.

Your mouth was hanging open as you shook with anticipation, your pussy already wet and throbbing. Kiba released your breast before settling between your legs, grinding against your heat as he kissed you fiercely. 

His tongue moved against yours as you felt him hard and dragging against you. There wasn’t enough friction, too much fabric between the two of you. You needed it gone. “Kiba, please,” You whined against his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your body, moving down your stomach to your hips. You tried to arch into his touch, but he had your hips pinned.

Unbuttoning your pants, he drug them slowly down your legs, pulling them off and discarding them to the side. His lips skipped past your aching arousal to your inner thighs. He was more rough this time, nipping and sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin.

Finally, after an agonizing time of him teasing and kissing anywhere but your covered cunt, he sipped his fingers under the band of your panties, pulling them down to expose your sex.

“You want me, darling?” Kiba askes, kissing at your thighs one last time. You nodded furiously. 

“Please!” You begged. Kiba didn’t waste time after that, pressing two fingers into your dripping cunt, causing you to cry out. He began to pump them steadily as you writhed and moaned underneath him.

His tongue lapped around his fingers before licking your clit with harsh, quick motions. His fingers curled inside of you in time with his licks, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“Kiba, Kiba, Kiba….” You chanted his name like a prayers, begging and pleading for him. 

“Nuh uh. Not until you cum around my fingers…” Kiba taunted, increasing his motions. He lapped at your clint incessantly, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper. The pleasure in you continued to build until you were clenching and cumming around him, screaming his name. 

“You’re so greedy, sweetheart. Your cunts sucking my fingers back inside you.” He laughed softly as he continued his actions, taking his time with you. It was all overwhelming in the best way.

You were almost limp by the time he was pressing inside of you, sliding slow and easy into your dripping pussy. Fully sheathed, he leaned over you, kissing you gently as he rocked himself into you. It was different than his normal, rough pace that he usually set, but it had your head reeling all the same. 

When he had one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock touching parts of you even deeper than your fingers could touch, he pressed kisses into your calves.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby. I love the way you clench around me, pulling me inside you. You don’t want to let my cock go, do you sweetheart? You like being fucked like this, don’t you? Slowly, having to wait for me to give it to you even when you want me to pound you into the bed.”

It was agonizing, the pace he set. It had you coming undone in ways you never had before. Rather than the constant, almost painful overstimulating orgasms you were used to with Kiba, there was only this one, building up steadily and so intense it had you seeing stars. Your vision went white as the coil in your stomach finally unraveled, and you were cuming, cuming so hard you almost arched off Kiba’s cock with a sob.

“There’s my girl,” Kiba mumbled into your neck as your felt his hips start to smack into yours more erratically until he was spilling inside of you, calling your name as his hips continued to jolt into yours as he chased his high. “Fuck,” he breathed, kissing gently down your shoulder.

You were still speechless, the world spinning around you. All you could do was smile up at him, fucked out of your mind. 

“I love you,” Kiba chuckled, pressing a kiss into your lips. “Now, what were you saying about me not knowing how to make a girl feel really good?”

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Rick's daughter Melody cant help her curiosity about the man locked up in the prison cell. Being kept secrets from her father, she takes it upon herself to get to know Negan and one day sneaks into the cell to find him asleep with morning wood.]

SEMI SMUT

Negan and Melody

Rick never really allowed you anywhere near Negan. Hell, you never even saw Negan yourself up close and personal. Although you were twenty, your father still treated you like the little five year old girl he used to carry on his shoulders. It was frustrating at times, he always wanted to keep secrets from you about what was going on in the group and he always said it was to protect you. The only times you ever saw Negan he was tied up being led into the prison cell. Truth was, you didnt know what he had done that was so bad. Your father seemed to keep everything from you that involved anything serious. You looked out the window and saw Daryl pass Eugene the keys for cell, each night someone was on guard. Looking to the right you saw your dad heading your way and quickly pulled down the blinds. After you were told Glenn had died in an accident on a run a few months ago many things changed. Maggie left, everyone seemed more distant and it left you confused.

"Get ready for bed, Melody," your dad spoke low as he entered the house making you sigh.

"I'm not tired dad."

"Mel, it's getting late-"

"And is there something we need to be ready for in the morning?" You responded with sarcasm looking back out the window.

"Besides...you never told me what that guy Negan did."

"I told you that's not up for discussion," he insisted making you roll your eyes.

"Is anything up for discussion? Whatever, I'm sure what he did wasnt that bad if hes being kept alive." You got up from the chair and walked past your father as he looked down with a straight face. There was no way he could tell you the truth of what Negan had done. Your father tried to protect you the best he could and losing people was enough, he didnt want to leave you with images in your head.

Waiting to be sure that your father was in his room you quietly snuck out of yours. Your curiosity ate at you and you were tired of your father treating you like a little girl. Making sure you werent heard, you stepped outside and walked towards where Negan was held captive. Eugene was heading back to the cell with a tray of food for Negan. You knew itd be easy to get around Eugene regardless of what your father instilled in his mind. Creating casual conversation with Eugene and some jokes to break the ice you offered to take Negan his lunch. Right away he made a face filled with doubt.

"I dont know about that, Melody..I'm in charge of his cell-"

"Yeah but you're in charge of the entrance. Who's going to watch while you are distracted handing him the food?" Eugene raised an eyebrow in thought, he felt like you had a point.

"Alright but your dad cant know about this, he'll kill me. So dont take too long."

"Dont worry I got it," you assured him before taking hold of the tray of food and the keys from his hand.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, you were nervous yet so curious to know the man that was hidden from you. Unlocking the door you walked down a dark hallway before reaching the cell.

"Well its about time one of you fuckers remembered to feed me," you froze at the sound of Negans voice before stepping out of the dark hall and into the light, revealing yourself. Negan looked up as he leaned against the wall not expecting to see a young attractive woman before him.

"Well excuse my French, where the fuck did your pretty little self come from?" Negan looked you up and down observing your skin tight jeans and crop shirt. Right from the jump you found this man to be very intimidating, taking a deep breath you stepped closer to his cell and bit your bottom lip nervously.

"Um...my name is Melody.. I came to bring you your meal," Negan slowly stepped closer to the bars with a smirk on his face and looked down at the tray in your hands.

"I see that...so you're gonna put that down for me, sweetheart?" He spoke slowly with an enticing voice.

"Oh..um, yes" you smiled before slowly bending down not noticing Negan tilt his head eyeing the curve of your ass as you slid the tray beneath the bars.

"Very nice.." he murmured low to himself before you got back up. Your eyes met his and you suddenly didnt move, his eyes were alluring and inviting all at once. Nervously clearing your throat you backed away brushing your hair back.

"I gotta ask, princess. What's a fine young woman like you doing alone with me here in my prison cell?"

"I wanted to see who you were...I'm not allowed to know things so-"

"So you're telling me no one knows you're here?" He raised a brow getting closer, although this man was behind the bars you still found yourself feeling nervous.

"No...everyone treats me like a little girl. I'm twenty years old and I'm tired of people covering up things for me," you explained.

"Shit, you are very young."

"Not too young where I cant be told what the hell you did to be in here, cant be all that bad if you're still alive."

Negan raised his brows sliding his tongue behind his lower lip.

"Oh no sweetheart, I'm no good." He spoke in a low voice.

"So let me guess, you're going to treat me like a little girl too and not tell me why?" Negan couldnt help himself but chuckle making you cross your arms.

"What's so funny?"

"Ohh...princess, if I was out of this cell right now I'd gladly show you how much of a grown woman I think you are."

"What?" You asked a little shocked not expecting him to express himself the way he did. You were quickly learning Negan had an unfiltered mouth.

"Dont mind me," Negan shook his head with a sigh.

"Its been a while and I'm just fucking frustrated."

"Its been a while since what?" You asked making him slightly lean back with a frown on his face.

"You really are innocent huh," you rolled your eyes.

"Listen, if you're going to say it just say it-"

"Its been a while since I've had some pussy." Negan blurt out making you stumble over your words.

"Oh-um...-" Negan grinned raising his brows at your reaction.

"Oh yes," he laughed as you nervously licked your lips.

"Shit..." he suddenly turned serious.

"How long has it been for you? Or wait let me guess, you haven't even had your cherry popped yet." Negan moved closer to the bars to get a closer look at you.

"Actually, I'm not a virgin but it's been a few years since I lost my virginity to this jackass. I havent slept with someone since."

"So you've gone a few years with out any relief?"

"Well um-obviously I've had relief-"

"Oh..so you like touching yourself," he bit his bottom lip in excitement.

"-But yes, it's been years since I've had sex and I'm okay with it, I dont need it." You couldnt believe you were even explaining this to him.

"Hm. Looks like whoever was hitting it wasnt hitting it right, shit I'd always have you coming back for more." You rolled your eyes holding back a smile, you kind of liked the attention he was giving you.

"Are you always this vulgar, Negan?"

"Only when I'm horny," he teased making you shake your head.

"Shit, do you blame me princess? You're the first woman that's spoken to me like I wasnt a damn monster. Plus I love some dirty talk." Negan had to admit the company was refreshing for him. You sighed with a smile and looked down at his food.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you to your food. I'll come by when I can again...if you want me to." Negan smiled sliding his tongue between his teeth.

"Oh I definitely do." You couldnt believe this man was flirting with you but you had to admit to yourself it was a fun interaction.

"Your secrets safe with me, Melody." Negan winked before you quietly left and locked the door shut.

That night you lay in bed smiling to yourself thinking of your very flirtatious talk with Negan. Your dad hadn't suspected a thing and you knew the next morning he would go on a run. It would be a perfect time to see Negan again. You were the first person in a long time to not make him feel like a monster and he was the first person who made you feel like a grown woman. Distracted by his flirtatious ways you didnt focus on the reason of him being held in a cell and Negan had no idea you were Rick Grimes only daughter.

The next morning just as suspected your father left on a run with Daryl and Michonne. The person on guard today was one of the men that you knew wasnt the biggest fan of your father. Of course you were to use this to your greatest advantage. Setting up a tray of breakfast with extra fruit you had grown in your garden you made your way to Negan. Unlocking the door, excitedly you walked down the hall to find Negan asleep with his back facing you as you set down his tray of food.

"Good morning, Negan." You spoke softly making him open his eyes. He groaned with a stretch and turned flat to his back making you gasp.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Negan looked at you confused before noticing exactly where your eyes were. The imprint of Negans very hard cock was practically bulging out of his pants.

"Ah shit-"he muttered to himself adjusting his pants.

"Sorry, sweetheart must've been having a nice little dream." He chuckled as he noticed you wouldnt stop staring at it.

"What, never seen some morning wood before?" He teased as he stood up.

"I mean, of course I just didnt expect to see you..I mean for you to be that way right now." You responded nervously as he made his way close to the bars of the cell.

"Right now?" He laughed.

"Oh princess, you have no idea how horny I am. How much I'd kill for the feel of sweet pussy...shit for a woman to just relieve me." The two of you were face to face now, only the bars separating you from each other.

"You know what I was dreaming about, princess?" Negan spoke as he noticed you would not stop looking down at his crotch area.

"I dreamt about you riding my cock." His voice was raspy, his words making you look up in shock.

"What?" You whispered.

"You left me last night thinking about things I wanted to do to you and this is the outcome." He motioned towards his erection.

"Why dont you touch it for me...just once." He spoke low, your lips parted at his request. Your heart was racing, it was arousing how much this man wanted you. Looking back at the door behind you making sure it was locked you looked back at Negan and nodded.

"Just once." You agreed making him grin.

"Atta girl."

Negan watched as you hesitatingly moved your hand in between the bars and began to slowly rub his crotch. A deep noise escaped his lips the first moment you touched him, his breathing was heavy as you moved your hand up and down.

"Oh my...-" you whispered feeling how rock solid he was.

"Oh, Melody.." he whispered as he closed his eyes. You could tell he obviously wanted more, you could tell how much he needed it. Without saying a word you began to unzip his pants and instantly his cock sprung out. It was thick and hot, you could feel him throbbing in your hand. The man was aching for some kind of relief, he was about ready to explode.

Spitting on your hand you began to move along his shaft. Negan moaned holding onto the bars as he watched you jerk him off. He could tell you were getting turned on as you began to breathe quickly. Negan reached through the bars and grabbed your throat applying pressure making you moan as you began to move your hand faster.

"Fuck baby, I dont think I can hold it-" he held his breath and grunted struggling to not let himself cum just yet.

"Hold on just a little bit more, I want you to cum hard." You whispered as he frowned holding on to the bar tightly, his knuckles turning white. It had been too long since he had been touched, too long since he had ejaculated and Negan had an intense rush. His other hand quickly sliding down your neck and pulling your v neck shirt down revealing your breast.

"Touch me, Negan. Do what you want." You whispered as your hand moved faster. Your words making his jaw clench as he squeezed your breast and let out a very loud and deep groan, loads of cum spilled out of him falling to ground.

"Yes.." you whispered loving the sight of him giving in.

"Dont stop-" he struggled to speak as he continued to cum all over your hand. He panted as you began to slow down before he let go of your breast and leaned against the bars. Releasing his cock from your hand you stepped back and looked at him from head to toe. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head on the bars, his cock twitching as you noticed all his cum on the concrete floor.

"Wow.." you whispered making him open his eyes. Grabbing a rag you had on you, you cleaned up your hand then handed it to him before he closed his pants. Negan cleared his throat before looking back up at you with a smirk.

"I guess I owe you one," he chuckled still trying to catch his breath making you laugh as you fixed your top.

"Glad I could be of help," you joked before the two of you locked eyes. The smiling fading from his face now.

"Seriously, it's been nice having you here."

Negan liked the sexual connection the two of you had, he also liked how you naturally conversed with him. You didnt treat him like an animal, you treated him like a human being. Negan knew he had messed up in life but he knew there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do was not repeat the same mistakes. What he did know was that he now knew for sure that he did not want you knowing his real reason behind being locked inside. He knew youd never look at him the same way again.

"Its been nice for me too. I havent really had conversation with anyone in my group." You sighed crossing your arms.

"After my friend Glenn died things changed." You whispered making Negans face change at the mention of Glenn's name. He looked away feeling a knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

"Everyone started acting different. I miss the way things were." You continued as you looked to the side and thought back of some memories.

"I think you should get going, Princess." Negan spoke low, his words making you look back at him confused.

"Wh-what? I thought we could talk-"

"Listen, I'm not your fucking therapist. Now get going." Negan snapped just wanting you to leave, his guilt eating up at him he felt like utter shit.

"So what jerking you off is all you needed so I'm good to go now?"

Negan remained silent, his head down not being able to look you in the eye.

"You know I know we dont know each other and you dont give a shit about me, but I thought we had an understanding that we both needed someone to talk to and not talk to them like something they're not." You snapped as he carefully listened to your words.

"That's the problem, sweetheart. They're not treating me like something I'm not. You are." His words left you speechless, what the hell did he mean by that?

"I told you I was no fucking good. Now get out of here." Negan turned his back to you, you couldnt believe what he was saying or what the hell even made him say these things.

"Screw you." Negan heard the crack in your voice before you stormed out and slammed the door shut. Negan sighed knowing he didnt want to hurt your feelings, hell he didnt even want you to leave. Angrily you walked back to your room and slammed the door shut, you felt so stupid you could scream. You swore you'd never see Negan again nor let your father ever find out of what had just happened.

Part 2? Trying to think of where I can go from here. Feel free to send in any ideas if you have. Xx

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone  

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary:  A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

 Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up.  The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8 

 “Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none. 

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in. 

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

 “ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

 “I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first.  Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

 “What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars. 

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!” 

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could. 

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him. 

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear. 

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine. 

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger.  Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen  hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind. 

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia. 

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw. 

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her.  Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips.  “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.  “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World.  And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked. 

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

[holykillercake]

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash​ in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World. 

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already. 

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl. 

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨ 

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing. 

                                                             </>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year. 

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better. 

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better. 

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea. 

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person. 

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop. 

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head. 

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up. 

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

 Right in front of your eyes.

 His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that. 

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there. 

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard. 

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised. 

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody. 

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking. 

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before. 

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips. 

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨ 

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨ 

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.  

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze. 

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨ 

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

 But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises. 

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours. 

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin. 

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨ 

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears. 

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go. 

                                                          </>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨ 

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨ 

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger. 

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh. 

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter. 

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks. 

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible. 

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left. 

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨ 

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨ 

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨

[biwindblade]

| i’m still holding on, neon

→ KANERA WEEK 2021 DAY ONE, PROMPT: TROUBLE

pairing: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

words: 3.4k

rating: t, for swearing and mentions of alcohol

summary: after nine long years, padawan caleb dume kanan jarrus is met with a friend from his past at the jedi temple, fellow (almost) padawan hera syndulla.

(shoutout to @kananjarrus-jediknight who helped let this au get way out of hand with me)

The neon light from the sign of Old Jho’s blinks unsteady, or maybe it doesn’t – Kanan’s head is still feeling pretty swayed. It was definitely the last drink he had – that had to be it, definitely not the long assortment of liquors that came before that one. That guy was just too pretty and his skin was so blue and his eyes were so–

His hand grabs at the outside wall of the bar, steadying himself and barely preventing him from crashing head over heels into the dusty Lothal street. He takes in a shaky breath, the fresh air would clear him up, get him ready to go back in. If the ground could just stop moving then maybe–

“Excuse me–”

And, with those two words alone, it’s like something wakes him up, the fog on his mind lifts, the heaviness in his eyes is gone – The kind of clarity, the instantaneous kind that only ever came from the Force.

And that voice, he knows that voice. He does. It’s different, but…

He turns to it.

This time he’s sure the Lothal moons above are shining within his chest.

It’s her.

“Caleb?” She says, the name dropping from her lips before she has the chance to compose herself. Her lekku go rigid.

He hadn’t heard anyone speak that name in nine years. In fact, he’d come to terms with the fact that he never would hear it again.

The look in those green eyes of hers only say one thing, the same thing that slips from his own mouth,

“You’re alive?”

She doesn’t quite nod but her eyebrows knit closer together in fondness. She’s seeing a ghost. Looking at him, but through him too.

He goes to take a step towards her and suddenly all the blood rushes to his head and the alcohol finally catches up to him. She dives to attempt an intercept before he crashes head first into the ground. She misses him by a second.

“Oh shit,” She mutters under her breath. You could’ve caught him with the F–

Thank goodness the sound of the bar muffles any of the noise they’ve just made. The dust she kicked up finally settles.

They, she thinks. But she nips it in the bud before she thinks too much more about it. Right now she needed to wipe off the stray dirt and was that - yup. A bar nut shell that had stuck to his shoe. Yup, that was Caleb Dume. Clearly they had a lot of catching up to do. It was taking everything in her not to just skim the top of his consciousness. It was funny, in the Force he felt the same.

He was dead to the world. She would definitely need to check his head when they made it back to her ship. Chopper wasn’t going to let her hear the end of it either but then again, she had told him before about the little boy who tried too hard to be her friend back at the Temple. It’s not like she had a lot of other people to talk to.

Geez, he wasn’t very easy to maneuver when he was deadweight. She does eventually manage to get him slung around her shoulder, his boots scratching against the scattered road on their path back to her pride and joy. The Ghost.

She was just hoping Caleb was still as eager to joke with her, because she wasn’t going to let him live down the fact that she had just carried him back to her ship because he was too plastered to do so himself.

Something in her did whisper that she had more of an influence in him passing out than anything else. She squashes the thought down as quickly as it came up, however.

She could still hear them teasing one another in the back of her brain. She catches a quick glance at his face, his facial features are more defined now, the bridge of his name is the same and his facial hair was surprisingly well kept. His eyelashes are still ridiculously long, for a male of any species.

His brows furrow momentarily and she looks away within an instant, he doesn’t wake though. Only stirring, but the good news was that the Ghost was now in view.

She fiddles in her pocket with her free hand to grab her commlink. She was really hoping he wouldn’t wake up, because even thinking about explaining the current situation was hurting her brain. Doing that when he was laying down in her ship’s medbay sounded a lot more manageable.

She presses the commlink, and in just a bit more than a whisper, “Chop, I’m back. Can you drop the ramp for me?”

She holds her breath, hoping to not be met with her droid’s usual attitude or for Caleb to wake.

The droid’s reply crackles over the comm and the ramp lowers.

“Come on,” She whispers to her friend, as she helps them both onto the ship. Grateful in that moment that she found a spot to dock that wasn’t too far out of the city. And it wasn’t like someone being drunkenly carried out of a cantina wasn’t a usual sight these days. Everyone had to deal with the Empire one way or another. It was just a stroke of luck there wasn’t a big Imperial presence around this part of the city tonight.

It’s more than luck, Hera. You know that.

As the ramp closes in behind her, her droid wheels into the room. Asking her colourfully worded questions in binary.

“This,” She replies, beelining for the medbay. “Would be my old friend.”

He stinks like behind a bar, her droid replies.

“Oh really?” Hera says, glaring at her droid. “I hadn’t noticed!”

She kicks off her boots, with Caleb still resting on her, she was really starting to ache from doing that.

“Maybe you could help me get him out of this room. So he can wake up without passing out on me this time!”

Chopper grumbles something, but obliges. She knew he was only annoyed because he could tell she hadn’t done what she set out to do this evening. But knowing he was alive kind of intercepted her plans. Besides, there was always tomorrow and maybe, just maybe Caleb would tag along and help her. Maybe.

She wasn’t about to go and get ahead of herself, but gosh that creeping hopeful feeling in her chest wasn’t any kind of help. She had to be more realistic. The world around her had taught her that all too quickly.

By the time she gets him to the medbay, he practically flops out of her arms and onto the bed, face down again. She lets out a sigh before rolling him over. Chopper complains something about him dirting the floor and shoves his legs up onto the bed properly. Definitely far rougher than Hera would've been. She really shouldn’t be surprised by that anymore, and after all, this was the first person she’d ever brought on the ship. There was always going to be some animosity.

She blinks herself back to the current moment only to realise her hand is still resting on Caleb’s arm. Her droid chirps at her accusingly.

“Chop, wait here,” She says, running a hand over the top of her droid’s head before running from the room. Clearly acting on an idea she had yet to share.

She returns with one of the spare blankets from the storage hold. And one of her mugs from the ship’s kitchen area.

You’re letting him stay here? Her droid asks her in an accusatory tone.

“He passed out, Chop!” She says, in something of a whisper-yell. “I couldn’t just leave him there. Besides, it’s not like anyone came out looking for him! I just wanted to,” She doesn’t really know where she was going with this.

She places the blanket over him, she places the blanket over him. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Right.

She huffs, before getting out the painkillers that she knew he was going to need when he woke up. Hera hadn’t been drunk many times and certainly never as much as Caleb was right now, but the fact that he was going to be met with both a hangover and his long-lost and most likely presumed dead best friend, well, it didn’t hurt to tread on the side of caution.

She fills the mug with water and leaves it next to him. And props herself up on the counter, it was late but she felt too awake.

The sight of him made her heart sit firmly in her throat. It brought back all of these memories and feelings she thought she had laid to rest a long time ago. Of inside jokes, of teachers long gone and stories told in a hush between their fellow younglings, of an ache so strong that it felt like nothing in the world would ever make it go away.

Or maybe, it just felt long enough ago now that it was easier to distract herself from.

Either way, it was a lot.

You going to sleep anytime soon? Her droid asks.

She laughs, “Eventually.”

She runs a hand over her face, before sighing into it. That was a lie and Chopper knew it as well as she did.

“You can power down for the night if you want. I’ll be okay.”

She crosses her feet together, bouncing them against the cupboards she’s sitting on.

Chopper makes a sound like a sigh and reluctantly he beeps out a goodnight. To be honest, she was expecting more resistance from him but today had been interesting for both of them.

With her droid offline for the evening, well, probably morning now. She still wasn’t quite adjusted to Lothal time. Which would make tomorrow even more exciting if she was going to get hyperlag.

Well, if she wasn’t going to sleep she might as well get something productive done. Read more into the intel she’d been given. She presses off the counter and makes her way back into the kitchen. Right now, it was time for caf.

There’s something restless in her as she waits for it to heat up. She didn’t feel right not waiting in the room, this was going to be worse if Caleb woke up and she wasn’t there. Standing still wasn’t doing anything for her nerves, which usually weren’t a problem.

She was supposed to be more in control with this kind of thing. She closes her eyes and draws into the Force, deliberately drawing in a deep breath.

Calm down, Hera.

New distraction, change into more comfortable clothes. As she does, she feels all too aware of the drawer near her bed where she kept her lightsaber. She hadn’t touched it in years but for the first time in a while she doesn’t tune out the singing the crystal makes.

Once she pulls her shirt over her head and over her lekku, the caf blips a sound in the air that it's done and by the time she’s changed it’s been just long enough that her drink was going to be the perfect temperature. She smiles to herself before cradling the mug in her hands.

With Chopper powered down for the night and not trundling behind her, it was really quiet on this big ship.

The door to the medbay slides open and sure enough, Caleb is still sleeping. His head resting against his shoulder, the blanket still covering him. He must have moved a lot in his sleep because his hair is now loose around his face.

He looks peaceful.

But, just to be sure, she hops back up on the counter so she has a good view of him. Just in case, she tells herself.

She aimlessly scrolls through the Holonet catching up on the news of the day. Nothing really of substance, more Imperial presence in the Lothal sector. Which could make things more difficult but if she could make up for the lost time today then she wouldn’t really have to worry about that much.

She takes a sip of her caf, and this time exits out of the Holonet and into the files shared with her and an unopened message from her contact.

The rest of the night passes without much out of the ordinary. She almost falls asleep at one point but the sound of someone sitting up in the bed wakes her back up.

So, Caleb Dume was the kind of drunk that woke up in the early hours of the morning.

“Good morning,” She says, looking up from the datapad.

He blinks hard a couple of times, and yawns. Then he finally focuses on who’s in front of him.

“Hera?”

She nods, a smile on her face. His voice holds far more emotion than just the name he asks. He seems to be taking in the surrounding of the repurposed room turned medbay. It wasn’t like she had the chance to ask him to come back to her ship. But, she wasn’t going to leave him there either. What kind of friend did that?

“Yeah, it’s me,” She answers, voice soft.

He nods to himself, his mind is clouded in the Force. It practically radiates off him.

“So you made it out, too?” He asks, his voice hoarse from the previous night.

She nods a couple times, before crossing her legs up on the counter and setting aside her datapad.

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” She starts, considering she hadn’t really spoken any of it out loud ever, she didn’t expect him to do the same right now. He also still looked half asleep. “But I do think you should have some water.”

He scoffs, and she motions with her head to the mug she put beside him earlier.

“Thanks,” He says, lifting it in her direction. He downs it all. “So, about last night,”

He rubs a hand into his temple.

“Yeah,” She says in a laugh, looking at the wall beside her. “I’m just surprised you made it up those stairs out of the bar.”

“You’ve been there before?”

“Not exactly, but I did check the building’s layout before leaving last night.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. There was so much else they could be talking about right now, and here they both were discussing a local bar.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really. I kind of had plans last night, well that was before you passed out on me.”

He cringes, crinkling his nose. Just like back at the temple, like he’d been caught out asking too many questions.

“Sorry about that.”

She jumps down from the counter finally. He seemed open enough, but she didn’t want to push it.

“Look, I’m just happy you didn’t throw up on me.”

That earns a laugh from him.

“Also, I think you should probably have those, Caleb.” She says pointing to the container of tablets next to him.

“Kanan,” He says, correcting her.

“What?”

“My name is Kanan, now.” His voice seems stronger now.

Her mouth drops open, she hadn’t expected that. But then again, it did make sense. She never considered changing her name, it’s not like she’d even been formally made a padawan. Her name was hers alone. It hurt her to know that he no longer thought the same.

“I’m sorry.” Is all she can offer him. As much as she was trying to be composed it was proving to be more difficult than she had accounted for.

That and the more Ca – Kanan – seemed to come to, the grief in the room seemed to be pressing down harder and harder. The turtleneck she changed into feels tighter.

She finally looks at him again, and the sadness in those eyes of his feels like something is tearing in her chest.

“So, you’ve been alone too,” He says before she gets the chance to.

She tips her head to the side, getting a better read on him, just as he was doing the same for her.

“Well, apart from Chopper… yeah. You?”

He takes a beat before answering.

“Yeah,” His blue green eyes are focusing in, “I can’t lie, I’m still not really used to it.”

That was an invitation, Hera. Keep the conversation going, She thinks.

“Neither,” She replies. “It’s hard to forget how occupied life used to be.”

There was the lump in the back of her throat again.

“Hah, you can say that again.”

He looks up from the ground, and meets Hera’s gaze.

“I still can’t believe you’re alive.”

His voice breaks as he says that. I wish I knew you were, all this time, is what is left unsaid in that sentence.

She sucks in her bottom lip.

So, she still did that. For some reason, it offers him a sense of relief.

“I could say the same,” She finally says. The silence in the air was worse than the words they were using to fill it with. She takes a few steps closer to him. “Are you alright to stand?”

“I don’t see why not,”

Either he was lying or talking about the past was doing a good job of sobering him up.

“Follow me,” She says, opening the door to the hallway.

“You don’t want to wake your droid?”

Hera takes a look back at Chopper, remembering how much of a liking he had taken to Kanan earlier.

“Yeah, I think it’s best to leave him out of this for now.”

She hears his feet hit the ground behind her and takes that as time to leave the room, and the fact that he doesn’t hit any of the walls of the ship on their way to the cockpit is also a good sign.

“Nice ship,” He says from behind, she doesn’t need to look at him to know he means it.

“Yeah, she goes alright,” She says, tapping her hand against the entryway to the cockpit and the door slides open in front of them, “After you,”

She motions for him to enter first.

“Wow,” He says, taking in the rising sun on the horizon. Her ship was angled perfectly to capture it.

She takes a moment to really take it in too. This was her first morning on Lothal, the sun seemed brighter too. Logically, she knew it wasn’t but – still.

“So, you live here?” Hera asks.

Kanan takes a stride towards the co-pilot’s chair, and crosses his arms against the top of it, looking over his shoulder as she comes to sit in the pilot’s seat. It was far more comfortable than the bench she’d been sitting on all night and her back thanked her as soon as she sat into it.

“Eh, not really. I got a job a couple of planets over and one thing led to another and blah, blah, blah.”

She nods her head, listening to him. Closing her eyes to really take in the warmth of the sun even through the ship’s viewport.

“You can sit down if you want,” Hera says. She can feel him hovering in the spot he is, unsure whether doing so was crossing a boundary.

“This is comfortable,” He answers. “Thanks for the blanket, by the way.”

She opens her eyes to see he’s readjusted it to wrap over his shoulders like –

“You ever miss wearing them?” He asks, completely out of the blue.

Clearly, she wasn’t the only one sensing the other in the room. Even if that always had been more of her thing. She remembers first trying them on, the arms far too big for her.

“Yeah, I do.”

She looks across at him, and he’s already looking at her.

“Kanan,” She starts.

And, for the first time, hearing that from her in that voice… It was like the name he’d chosen to stay alive finally had meaning. Like his name could mean something.

“I know I said you didn’t have to talk about it, which is true and I truly don’t mind, but I have to tell you.”

Her steels her jaw, pressing her tongue to the top of her mouth to stop the tears. It was her tried and tested method.

“I didn’t think I would ever, ever see you again. And I know you feel the same way, and I know a lot has happened and we’ve both changed and chances are I really don’t know you anymore but–”

She stops herself. This was the most she had opened up to anyone in the longest time.

“But–” She hears him say. “–it feels like this was meant to happen.”

“Exactly.”

She was wrong, and for what felt like the first time, she was happy to be. Her face softens as she starts crying and when she blinks the tears away and looks at him, there’s tears in his eyes too.

They both smile at each other. Basking in all the moment has to offer. Two Jedi, two survivors finding one another.

“This is gonna be trouble, isn’t it?” He says, looking out the dawn on Lothal.

Nothing else needed to be said, Kanan answering the question Hera hadn’t been able to yet speak aloud. They’d made their way back to each other. There was no way anything in the whole galaxy would get in the way of that. They had a lot to catch up on, and it would take time.

But she had this bursting feeling that had they had that one their side.

“When have we not been?”