#so I'm like ''ok if i make it through these bad pain days & regain the ability to walk more than 10 paces i can go look at halloween stuff''

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

Apparently I need something more stable and reliable (than a book order) to use as an anchor for depression season 🙃

[illocopon]

Tw: suicide mention, mental health, toxic relationships

Ok I get it, the first season was all fun and games and silly little gay pirates, so it's obvious and easy to point Izzy out as the antagonist -ahem, the English and Spanish navy, ahem-. So yeah, we have this little and agry fella, trying to bring our lovers appart, trying to boss around The Revenge as if he's the Captain and being mean to everyone around. Of course we thought he's the bad guy. But have we stopped and cared about what are Izzy's drives? HAVE WE??

Izzy Hands is Blackbeard's first mate. Not Ed's, as he says later on. The good functioning of the ship and the relationships between his Captain and the crew is his duty. And all of a sudden, his Captain turns mad and in love with someone who is weak and has nothing to do with piracy. Izzy is absolutely stressed, like a stray cat taking a bath for the first time. The time Ed and Stede spend together is lost time: not pillaging well enough, not hiding properly from the Army... So he blames it all on Stede, ignoring completely his boss' state of mind. Izzy's job is to make everything work and it's just not happening anytime soon. He's so desperate that he even takes a deal with the English army. He even forgives Ed when he punches him in the face, because he's convinced he deserved it. What else could he do?

*S2 spoilers ahead*

And in the second season, Izzy has regained power as first mate. But he's utterly destroyed, both physically and emotionally. He has sacrificed his integrity for this ship, and it's not paying back. Ed treats him like a dog and the crew is so profoundly mentally devastated that he cannot make it work anymore. And again, in desperation, Izzy keeps searching for solutions. It's his job, at the end of the day. He's too emotionally attached that he needs to stay, to make it work again like it used to. He's once again against the wall, he even asks to talk it through. Anything is working, so even Stede's ways were given a try. And this gets him shot in the leg, leading to losing it in a 50-50% chance to die.

So dying is the last frontier. He's not sacrificing his life to a suicidal boss that doesn't care who goes down with him. He almost gives up, but luckily he fails his shot. When the storm comes, he gets his revenge on all the damage that he has taken over the months, over the years; and yet again he's doing his job: he's protecting the crew from what's now the enemy, their current Captain.

When Izzy sees Stede again, he asks him to insult him, to unburden all his hate on him -but that's Izzy's coping mechanism, not Stede's-, he needs punishment, for he hasn't been able to complete his duty and to save Blackbeard from insanity to it's last consecuences. All he gets back is just nothing, and it hurts more than anything because he's left alone with guilt. No bad words, not even a side eye. He's broken and ignored.

Later on, when Stede's crew escape, they take Izzy with them -he would probably be killed or used to track them back- and he tries, for the first time, to thank Stede. Ignored again. He's not worth a thought. So he first falls in booze and then progressively into absolute madness, guiltyness and grieve.

He's not been loved once. Not even when he gave all his life to the one he loved. It was never returned back and now he's disabled for life, alone and aboard a ship where everyone hates him -or so he thinks.

I was so happy to see that the crew ended up understanding his pain and situation, taking care of him and making him a new leg all together. So fuck yeah. FOR THE NEW UNICORN. For the new and crafty Izzy, for the new and sensitive man how's yet to come to terms with some things. To Izzy Hands.

So what I really want to say is: stop hating Izzy. He's been through a lot of shit, has done questionable things to maintain his crew safe and he's a baby girl and I'm too emotional to end this with something that makes sense.

[lacefuneral]

talking abt the drawings

ok so.

i've had chronic pain for as long as i can remember. in high school i literally walked around with a wrist brace on each hand 24/7

despite this, i really wanted to go into art. and i did. i managed to get into art school, studied for 5 years, and earned my degree.

my chronic pain was always there, but when i was on T, weirdly, it lessened. that made it easier to do studio work. with T, though, i had a lot of other medical issues, and decided to stop it in my final year.

regardless of pain, i've always had a "craft" issue. that's what professors referred to it as. it's like... you struggle to color in the lines. when you fold a paper it's crooked. when you trim a print it isn't a perfect rectangle. and anyone who has ever received a wrapped present from me will know. it's like, the messiest thing you've ever seen.

i've always had some kind of like. fine motor difficulty. and that never went way even with my training. in many cases, it resulted in lower grades. but i just kept going.

and i'm unsure if it's due to craft or something else, but i was never a strong illustrator. and that's not too uncommon for some graphic designers. illustration and graphic design are different tracks, even. a lot of us rely on shapes, typography, and patterns instead of very elaborate drawings.

the pandemic (and other circumstances) uprooted my life. instead of going right into a graphic design internship, i was jobless and stuck at home. i sank into a deep depression, and my pain worsened to the point where making art even for fun hurt my body too much.

i think the first time i bothered to try traditional art again was when i made a portrait of my ex boyfriend a couple of years ago, but then i stagnated again.

and right now, i'm in a period of my life where choosing to live each day is very, very hard. but i want to. and i want to try to make art. so i am challenging myself to draw as much as possible. i'm being mindful of my pain and stopping when i need to. and i'm trying to be kind to myself. even if the craft is bad (it will be) and if the end result is Bad Art. because making Bad Art is okay, and because i'm trying to regain muscle memory i lost years ago, and improve upon it.

this is a new medium, too. i have never worked with markers previously. my traditional 2D art was always pencils, pens, charcoal, or acrylic paint. the markers i have are very cheap, and marketed as highlighters for books, not as drawing materials. i'm taking advantage of the pastels, and challenging myself with the limited color palette.

i'm having fun so far. i was always scared of markers for some reason. maybe because "real" brush markers are expensive. maybe because markers have a reputation through bleeding through paper (which i've since learned is often a paper issue, not a marker one.) and i think the permanence, too. i can't erase a mark after i make it. but that's letting me sit with my mistakes.

[sequinsmile-x]

happy, happy early birthday my friend!! i'm so grateful for you and for all the wonderfulness you bless us and the fandom with ❤️ i am going to request #3 from list 1 :)

Ahhh thank you bestie!!

In a move that will shock no one, this one got away from me!

The prompt is “I can’t believe you remembered that” “I remember everything about you”

-x-

Compound

Warnings: Emily Prentiss Whump. Mentions of blood/injury. (Emily breaks her arm in a pretty bad way.) Difficult mother/daughter relationship

Words: 3.7k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she wakes up, unsure when she fell asleep in the first place. She opens her eyes and blinks against the bright light. It’s immediately clear that she is in a hospital room, the sheets of the bed she was laying in scratching against her skin. 

She looks down at her right arm and sees it’s in a cast and on a pillow so it was elevated. She immediately feels the pain in her forearm, an ache that almost makes her feel dizzy. 

It all comes flooding back to her. 

She had taken a hit. The unsub pushed her in an attempt to escape the team closing in on him. She lost her balance, fell down the stairs behind her and landed awkwardly at the bottom. Her momentary relief that she hadn’t been knocked unconscious had immediately been stamped out by the pain that shot through her arm, injured as she’d tried to catch herself in her fall. 

It was only when she lifted her arm to look at it she realised the extent of it, the pain she felt not quite lining up with how clearly broken her arm was. Blood, broken skin and something that she was sure was bone staring back at her. 

Aaron had appeared by her side in seconds, initially cupping her head in his hands, trying to look for signs of a concussion, before his gaze drifted to her arm and his eyes widened, his only visible reaction to her injury. He handed over control of the scene to Derek and took her to the hospital, his touch delicate as he made sure she wasn’t jostled as he got her back outside, directing her into the ambulance she didn’t realise had been called for. 

He’d barely left her side. His hand in her good one as the doctors examined her, stating the obvious as they explained she would need surgery. 

She turns her head to her left and sees he’s sat here, his hand in hers, and his focus on his phone in his other hand. She knew he’d be updating the team, telling them the latest about what the doctor had said about her injury. 

It was likely the rest of them would fly home, and she’d have to wait until she was released from hospital, doomed to fly commercial with her broken arm in a cast, strangers on either side of her. Well, on one side. Aaron would be with her. She knew there was no chance she’d convince him to leave without her, even if she had to stay for several days. 

She clears her throat to gain his attention, smiling sleepily at him when their eyes meet. 

“Hey,” she rasps out, her exhaustion and pain clear. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, standing from his chair to sit on the edge of her bed, his hand still linked through hers, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like my arm got snapped in half.” She deadpans, chuckling weakly at the way his eyebrows crease slightly. “I’m ok, honey.” She squeezes his hand in hers. “What did the doctor say?” 

He smiles at her, the hand not clasped in hers reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear, his touch soft, delicate. As if she would break into a thousand pieces if he was any rougher.

“They were able to fix it,” he explains, his thumb at her cheek, “you’ve got a hell of a lot of metal in there now, and quite the scar,” he jokes, a half smile on his face, “time will tell on the nerve damage.” 

It was something the doctors had mentioned before they’d taken her down for surgery. The nature of the fracture meant her nerves would have sustained damage, potentially significant, and the only way they’d know if she’d regain full function again would be to be patient. To go through physical therapy, allow herself to recover. 

“Well, good thing it’s not my shooting hand or anything isn’t it,” she says sarcastically, sighing at the mere thought of it. She shakes it off, knowing now wasn’t the time to worry. She’d be off work for a while anyway. The more immediate concerns would be how she’d wash her hair, and other basic day-to-day tasks with her dominant hand completely out of use. 

“Don’t worry about that for now, Em,” he says, lifting her left hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. She frowns at the sight of it, something was missing, was different to usual, but her medication addled brain was unable to catch up with her.

When it clicks into place she gasps, and Aaron looks concerned, already halfway to asking if she was ok, if he needed to get a nurse, when she cuts him off. 

“My ring,” she says, grimacing when she tries, and fails to sit up, the movement jolting her injured arm, “where’s my engagement ring? Did I lose it?” 

She feels herself getting emotional and she feels ridiculous, even though she knows she’s being hard on herself. She’d just had surgery, she’d seen one of her bones sticking out of her skin, and she was in pain. It had been a hard day, she was allowed to be emotional, and losing her engagement ring would be the thing to tip her over the edge. 

Aaron proposed two months ago. She’d known it was coming, she just didn’t know when. He’d managed to surprise her, proposing to her in his office, the place they’d met, after everyone else had left for the day. It was perfect for them, no matter how her mother had reacted when she told her, and it made her smile whenever she thought about it. Emily had barely taken the ring off since, already used to it pressing into her skin, a physical manifestation of their love for each other. 

She’s panicking, trying to remember if she had it when she was admitted to the hospital when Aaron cups her chin and makes her look back at him, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok, I have it.” 

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together, “You do?”

He nods, briefly letting go of her, her hand now cold where his had been, and he digs into the pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out the now familiar ring and showing her.

“They made you take it off for surgery,” he explains, lifting her left hand and sliding it onto her ring finger, the same look in his eyes as when he’d done it kneeling in front of her all those weeks ago, “I kept it safe.” 

“I love you.” She replies, relief flooding her as quickly as the panic had, leaving fatigue in its wake. 

He leans in to kiss her, his lips gentle against hers, “I love you too.” She yawns as he pulls away and he laughs, “You should get some sleep, baby.” 

She tries to argue, but she finds herself exhausted, “You’ll stay?”

Aaron runs his fingers through her hair, scratching at her scalp like she did for him and Jack when they were sick, something that brought them all comfort. 

“I’ll stay.”

___

She wasn’t sure how he’d done it, what strings he had pulled, but the jet meets them at the airport when it was time for them to go home. Her arm is in a cast she hates and the notes to pass on to her doctor at home are in Aaron’s briefcase. He presses his hand into her lower back as he guides her up the stairs and into a seat on the jet, a comment under his breath that he wasn’t going to let her fly commercial when she was still hurt. 

She doesn’t think she’s ever loved him more. 

Emily can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as the door to their house closes behind them, the ten days since they had last been there feeling like an eternity.  The case itself had ended days ago, the rest of the team leaving her and Aaron in Arizona as she recovered from her injury. Her frustration at being stuck in a hospital so far away from home making her feel even worse, irritation itching at her skin more than the cast on her right arm. The usual sense of home settles over her and she smiles at her fiancee as he wraps his arm around her waist. 

“Do you want a nap?” He asks, kissing her temple. She wants to argue, wants to say she’s not a child and therefore doesn’t need a nap, but she’s tired. Worn out by the journey and her ongoing recovery. 

She’d forgotten just how tiring recovering could be, those early days in Paris filled with nothing but regret and sleep. 

“A nap sounds great.” She replies, leaning into him a little further, closing her eyes as he kisses her temple again. “Join me?” She asks hopefully. 

He sighs regretfully against her skin before pulling back, his eyes meeting hers, “I’d love to sweetheart but-”

“Please?” She asks, knowing on some level she is playing dirty, that he could never say no to her anyway, but she’d missed sleeping next to him, his hand in hers as she slept in her hospital bed not enough. She wanted to be pressed up against him, to fall asleep in the embrace that felt more like home than any place ever had.

He raises an eyebrow at her, a small smirk on his face. “What I was going to say is I have some work to do, but I’ll bring it up, sit next to you whilst you sleep.” 

She leans up to kiss him, her lips soft against his. “You really are the best.”

___

Emily is sitting on the couch, her arm elevated on a cushion on one side, and Jack cuddled up to her other, when her phone rings from where she’d placed it on the coffee table. 

“I’ll get it for you, Emily,” Jack says, already shifting forward from where he was sitting to stand and get her phone for her. It was adorable how gentle he was being, how caring, his usual fierce affection for her more subdued than usual. She wonders what Aaron said to him, what conversation her Hotchner boys had had when she was sleeping. 

“Thank you, Jack, that's very kind.” She says, smiling at him. 

He picks the phone up off of the table and looks at the screen, his nose scrunching up in a way Aaron would insist was all her, a mannerism he had picked up since they became a family.

“It’s Miss Lizzy.” He says as he hands it to her, and she suppresses her sigh as she sees the photo on the screen, one taken at Christmas the year before of Emily and Elizabeth together, smiles on their faces that were more relaxed than they had been around each other in years. 

“Yes it is,” she says, forcing a smile at the boy in front of her, “Why don’t you go see if your dad needs help with dinner?”

“Ok!” Jack says enthusiastically, always keen to help out in the kitchen. He bounds off without any further comments, and Emily answers the phone before it could ring out. 

“Mother, hi,” She says, almost bracing herself for whatever was to come. Her relationship with Elizabeth was better, but still tense. Mother and daughter still not always able to see eye to eye, never quite able to be what the other had wanted or needed. 

“Emily, I was just calling to check on when you and Aaron are planning on arriving on Saturday.” 

“Saturday?” Emily asks, frowning as she tries to think of whatever her mother could be talking about, her mind hazy with the pain killers even she couldn’t deny she needed.

“Please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” Elizabeth sighs, a tone Emily recognised well from her teenage years coming down the phone, “the benefit this weekend? The one you and Aaron promised you’d come to months ago.” 

Promised was a strong word in Emily’s view. More like strong-armed into it, relenting to Elizabeth’s request because, ultimately, it was the easiest thing to do.

“Oh, sorry Mother, of course,” Emily says, and she blows out a breath, and prepares herself for the reaction to what she’s going to say next, “I don’t think we’ll be able to make it, I-”

“Why not?” Elizabeth all but demands and Emily doesn’t have to be looking at her to know the expression she wore like a favourite piece of jewellery, ever-present and familiar. 

Emily closes her eyes and grimaces when she accidentally moves her right arm.

“I thought Aaron called you and told you I was in hospital in Arizona,” she says calmly, despite feeling the irritation building in her chest, “we only got home today.” 

“I thought he said it was just a broken arm?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Well for goodness sake Emily, you’ve survived worse.” 

It was something her mother brought up whenever they were at odds, the more than half a year she’d thought her daughter was dead a weapon she wasn’t shy about using. It was something that had been hard for them to get past, especially once Emily started a relationship with the man who’d made the decision to hide her away. Despite knowing it was coming it still doesn’t stop the ache in Emily’s chest, or the way the mere mention of what had happened would make her cheeks warm and her eyes sting. 

“Mother-”

“Oh, now I’m the bad guy.” 

Emily blows out another steady breath, and she hears Aaron’s footsteps on the hardwood flooring, making the journey from the kitchen to the couch. He stands behind her, one hand on her shoulder as he leans down and kisses the top of her head. A silent show of his support for a situation she often asked him to stay out of. 

“Ok, we’ll be there,” Emily says, resigning herself to the fact she wouldn’t be able to get out of it. 

“Excellent,” Elizabeth replies, the tone of her voice switching so quickly that if Emily had been  standing she was sure it could have given her whiplash, “please remember to reply to the email with your dinner choices. See you on Saturday.” 

“See you Saturday.” When she hangs up she groans, and Aaron squeezes her shoulder, kissing the top of her head again. “I completely forgot about this event.” 

“Me too, sweetheart,” Aaron replies, “I take it she wasn’t receptive to the idea of us not going?” 

Emily shakes her head and turns to look at him, “Not at all.” She groans, “How am I supposed to even get ready? Do my hair and make-up? My left hand can’t do shit.” 

“I’ll do it.” He says with so much confidence it makes her laugh before she realises he’s serious. 

“You’ll do my hair and make-up?” 

He shrugs nonchalantly, “I’ve seen you do it plenty of times, I’m sure I can do it.” 

She stares at him for a second before she relents, rolling her eyes. “Fine, but if you make me look like a clown, you’re in trouble.” 

“You’d make a very beautiful clown.” He jokes, winking at her as he rounds the couch, cutting off her response with a kiss as he gently tugs at her good arm, helping her stand up. “Now that's settled, let's go eat dinner. Jack insisted I go get you both dessert from that place you love after.” 

She hums as she leans into his side as they walk together.

“I always knew he was my favourite.” 

___

Aaron does such a good job with her hair and makeup her mother actually compliments her on it when they arrive. Emily smiles at her fiancee when he winks at her, a smile on his face that hadn’t shifted since she’d looked in the mirror when he was done, her shock evident. 

“I look ridiculous.” She mutters as they walk away from Elizabeth, their greeting with her having gone as expected. Emily felt like everyone was staring at her, the arm cast somehow even more obvious now she was dressed up. A black floor-length dress that hugged her figure, her hair and make-up flawlessly applied by her apparently multi-talented fiancee, clashing with the white plaster on her forearm. It itched, and she hated it so much already she didn’t know how she’d last with it until her follow-up appointment.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t get a kick out of the look on her mother’s face when she spotted the crudely drawn dinosaur left on the cast by Jack. 

“You look beautiful,” Aaron says, his hand at her lower back, “Especially your make-up, you should give whoever did it a raise.” 

She looks up at him and he winks at her again, and she hates herself for the way it makes her stomach flip. 

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about, honey,” Emily says as they walk further into the ballroom, Aaron grabbing a glass of champagne for both of them from a nearby waiter, “I might get you to do this for me every time.” 

Aaron leans forward and kisses her cheek, pressing a glass into her good hand, “Whatever you want, baby, you know that.” 

Her retort is on the tip of her tongue as she rolls her eyes, her usual comment about him being so fucking perfect all the time halfway out, when someone bumps into her injured arm. It feels like the pain vibrates through the cast, reverberating in a way that makes her feel nauseous. She cries out, and looks at the man who had bumped into her, a clear apology in his eyes. 

Any acceptance said through clenched teeth as she tries not to cry with the pain, is cut off by Aaron. His arm wraps around her waist, less force in how he pulls her back to him than she anticipates, as if his need to protect her is briefly overridden by remembering she was hurt. 

“Watch where you’re going.” He seethes, and she looks up to see the stern expression on his face, his jaw tight and tense as he stares the man down. 

“I’m so sorry,” the man repeats, clearly intimidated by Aaron, and Emily shakes her head.

“It’s ok, it happens.” She says, and she leans further into him, her elbow pressing into his ribs to stop him from continuing berating the man in front of them. He walks away quickly, leaving the couple standing together. Emily turns in Aaron’s embrace, tenderly holding her injured arm between them, and she smiles softly at him, “stand down, Hotch.”

“Are you ok?” He asks, stroking at the skin above where the cast ended.

“It hurt, but I’m ok, I promise.” 

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe her but nods. “Come on, let's go find our seats.” 

The cast becomes a talking point for the people they are sat with, and they give a watered-down version of the truth. Aaron pulls his chair closer to hers, purposely sitting on her right side to keep her arm protected from anyone else who could potentially bump into her. Throughout the evening the pain continues to build, her arm throbbing in the cast. Aaron notices, and he wordlessly takes off his jacket, folding it up and placing it on the table, paying no mind to the wine that was spilt there earlier, and gently places her arm on it. 

Despite the setting they were in, and the fact she knows her mother will have something to say if she sees it, Emily can’t help but kiss him. The love she feels for him, for the way he cares for her, threatening to overwhelm her. 

___

She lets herself be led into their ensuite, so grateful to be home that she thinks she could fall asleep right on the toilet as he sits her down on it. 

“Can we just go to bed?” She asks through a yawn, not paying attention as he digs through the medicine cabinet. “I’m exhausted.” 

“Of course sweetheart,” he answers, turning around to face her. That's when she sees what he’s got in his hand, some cotton pads and her preferred brand of makeup remover, “let’s just get this done and then you can go lay down.” 

She tilts her head at him as he kneels on the ground in front of her, groaning as he does so, the creak in his knees almost audible. She watches as he puts some of the remover on a pad before he presses it gently against her cheek, swiping back and forth over her skin quickly. 

“I ran out.” She says, smiling when he looks curiously at her. “Of the makeup remover. I ran out.” 

“Oh,” he says, disposing of the pad in his hand before repeating his previous action and starting on the other side of her face, “I know, I got some more for you when I picked up your prescription the other day.” 

“You got the right brand and everything.” 

He smirks at her, one of his dimples on display as he concentrates on his task. “Well, I do live with you, Em.”

“I just…I can’t believe you remembered that,” She says, and he leans back, done with removing her make-up for her, and he smiles at her. It makes her stomach swoop, and she’s suddenly trying to remember all the reasons her doctor told her she should hold off on sex for a few weeks. 

“I remember everything about you,” he shrugs, standing up and offering her a hand, pulling her to her feet too.

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, how to put into words how she feels about him. Nothing felt like enough, nothing strong enough to express how much she loves him. How much she loves how he loves her, something she thought she’d never get to experience. Something she’d convinced herself wasn’t real, a fantasy sold to her when she was young, torn to pieces when she was still a child. 

In the end, she just smiles at him, hooking her arms around him, careful with her injured one as she lays it on his shoulder. She cups his cheek with her good hand and kisses him, her forehead resting against his when she pulls back. She says the only thing she can think of, the only thing that felt right. 

“I can’t wait to marry you.” 

-x-

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[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 3

A/N- The secrets out! Well to you guys anyway 🤫

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Word count- 3,258

Warnings- Swearing, lies, deceit, cheating

Pairing- Chris Hemsworth X you / Liam Hemsworth X you

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 25th May 2021

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings

Chapter 1 + 2

"Morning babe, I tried to let you have a sleep in. I didn't wake you did I?" He asks, preoccupied with the washing up.

"No, I actually had a good sleep for once." You say nonchalantly while searching through the kitchen cupboards for a mug in a half asleep haze. "That's not going to last long when I have to spend the weekend in a hotel bed though."

Finally finding your favourite mug right at the back of the cupboard, you slam it on the counter a little more aggressively than you expected, startling you out of your daziness. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrow at you questioningly and you just shrug your shoulders back at him. It was definitely going to be one of them days, those days where nothing goes right. You would question what you'd done to deserve it but you already know the answer to that.  You were just going to have to put up with karma kicking your ass at any given moment for the rest of your life.

"Aww I know babe, at least it's only two night's though." He comes up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. "You've just reminded me -" He presses carefully, the way he shifts his composure telling you he's uncomfortable with what he's about to say and your heart begins to beat a little faster. " - I know you're going away tomorrow and I really wanted to have the night alone..." He pauses again.

"Just tell me, what is it?" You ask, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice.

"My brother called this morning, he sounds in a bad way so I said he can come over and hang out tonight. You don't mind do you?" Now your heart stops beating completely, what the hell is he playing at? 

 "I'm worried about him, he's not been right lately and he's going away for work tomorrow night too so it's the only time I can see him really." You're angry with him for saying he's going away too, how more fucking obvious can he make it? You're just both suspiciously going to be away with work at the same time. You can't protest about it now, you don't want to raise any more questions.

"No of course not, babe." You agree reluctantly, still seething with anger on the inside. "Right, I'm going for a shower and then I better start packing." You sulk.

"Do you want some help?" He ask as you kiss him on his cheek while you're passing. 

"It's ok babe, you know how meticulous I am with my packing." You say smiling softly at him.

"Gotcha, I am not getting involved with that. Give me a shout if you want a coffee." 

"You're the best." 

                         ****************

Using the tap to muffle the sound of your voice while you make a call. This was starting to become a habit now, the sound of running water in the background whenever you speak to him, a memory that you will never forget. Whenever you run your bath or fill the sink you're going to be reminded of your lying and cheating. Great! Just another thing to add to the list of things to look forward to in the future.

You never thought you'd be a cheater, especially to someone you loved and cared for so deeply. You'd always despised people who cheated, could never understand how people could have multiple lives and cheat multiple times. Naively thinking that if they weren't happy they should just tell the person they are with and stop all the hurt but it doesn't always work that way. You didn't suddenly think 'hey I'm not happy, I'm going to go fuck someone else'. You certainly wouldn't have chosen his brother if that was the case. Over the years it just happened and you hated yourself for it. You weren't even unhappy in your relationship, so that throws all your theories of 'cheaters' completely out of the window. The sound of the dial tone snaps you from your thoughts.

"Hi babe." He answers almost immediately, leaving you with no time to regain your composure. "Hello?" 

"Oh erm.... Don't 'hi babe' me." Not a great start, you have to admit.

"What's wrong?" You can tell that Chris is amused with your tone of voice and it makes that anger resurface.

"You know exactly what's wrong, why the fuck are you coming over here tonight?" 

"Erm to s-" you don't even give him time to speak before you interrupt him. You don't believe that he's just coming to see Liam, you know he's coming to see you no matter what he says.

"As if it's not awkward enough without having you both in the same house together... You have to cancel." The thought of them both being together with you filled you with fear. How were you supposed to act around them both? The idea of it fills you with chills.

"I'm not cancelling. I haven't seen him in a while and he invited me. It'll be fine, I'll be on my best behaviour, I promise. I get you all to myself tomorrow anyway." 

"Exactly so why do you need to come over here and make everything all awkward?"

"Babe I'm coming to see my brother, you get me to yourself tomorrow. Don't be selfish" you could hear the amusement in his voice, you're sure he enjoys this.

"Pfft." A huff is about the only thing you could manage right now.

"You get to have both your favourite people in the same room, at the same time... Hey maybe we can have a threesome?" 

"Fuck off." You murmur, although you have to admit the thought of it does turn you on slightly. In a perfect world that would be the best possible outcome but it's not a perfect world and that most definitely would never happen.

"I'll see you tonight, wear something sexy." He laughs.

"This isn't funny." You reply before hanging up the phone and you're left alone with the tormenting sound of flowing water.

This is going to be a disaster, you can't help but think that tonight is the night it all comes out. Surely this isn't what he has planned, he wouldn't want to hurt his brother in such a viscous way. To announce at dinner that he's fucking his girlfriend and that they've been going behind his back and fucking for years. Surely not?  You're pretty sure you're being paranoid but know you're going to be on the edge of your seat all night, frightened everytime he opens his mouth to speak.

                                 **************

You're sure you've downed almost a full bottle of wine before he's even arrived, you try to remember how many glasses you've had when you finally hear the dreaded chime of the doorbell. Your head is dizzy with bubbles already, your stomach churning at the thought. It wasn't the cleverest of ideas to drink so much already, not when you need to be sharp and aware of what you're doing and saying. Fuck.

The way Chris' eyes light up when he sees you reminds you exactly why this is all worth it. You feel your nerves settle slightly now the first step was over and it wasn't so bad was it? You don't know what you were actually expecting, him to walk through the door and kiss you passionately sounds about right though.

"Chris! Hi, how you doing?" You act, standing on your tiptoes to hug him. It's so hard acting like he's your brother in law and not your... Boyfriend? Lover? You don't even know what to call him.

"Hi, beautiful." He whispers into your ear, making your stomach flip when you feel his lips graze against your neck. "I'm good thank you, how are you guys?" He says louder, moving away from your arms reluctantly and standing against the counter. The glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips make him look sexy as hell, you bite onto your lip as hard as you can. Hoping to draw blood so you can concentrate on the pain and not the fact you want to rip your boyfriend's brothers clothes off.

"We're great" Liam replies.

"I'm sure you are." Chris says sarcastically under his breath, luckily Liam didn't hear him. You give Chris the glare, reminding him to be on his best behaviour.

"But how are you? You didn't sound too good the other day." Liam asks, opening a bottle of wine.

"I was probably just tired bro, you know how it is. I don't get much sleep nowadays." 

"Oh yeah, is a woman involved by any chance?" Liam asks, laughing to himself.

"Yeah, something like that." Chris subtly grazes your hand as you walk into the kitchen to help Liam. You freeze on the spot, looking into his eyes you see a desperately pleading look. You know this is torture for him, that he just wants to grab you and hold onto you. Even though he tries his best not to, he hates his brother for it, he hates that he gets to have you.

"Anyway, it smells great in here. What you making?" Chris says locked in eye contact with you. 

"I've just thrown together some dinner." You say casually, although deep down your heart is tugging and your hands are shaking.

"Her food is fucking amazing, I probably should have made sure you hadn't eaten first though?" Liam puts his arms around you and kisses your cheek as you carry on stirring the food on the stove. You're glad you have your back to Chris because you dread to think of his reaction. How you have to pretend you don't know each other on that deep level. You had tried to warn him that this was a bad idea.

"Yeah, no that would be awesome. Thanks" You can tell by the way his voice broke that this is causing him pain and there's nothing you can do about it. 

                              **************

"Do you want a beer or are you ok with wine?" Liam asks Chris as you sit down at the table ready to eat.

"I'd love a beer bro" Chris replies. You watch from the corner of your eye as Liam heads to the fridge, your heart beating a little faster now he's out of sight. Looking to Chris nervously.

Chris takes the opportunity while Liams back is turned and grabs your hand under the table. Stroking your palm with his thumb he mouths the words 'love you'. You can't help but feel sorry for him, this horrible situation you're all in. You mouth the words back to him before he lets your hand go when Liam comes back into sight.

All the way through the meal Chris can't take his eyes off of you, you're worried Liam will notice but he's paying no attention. Obviously he has no reason to doubt his loyal girlfriend and protective big brother, why would he? Which makes your betrayal even more unbearable.

"This is great Y/N." Chris says after tasting your food and moving your dress a little higher so he can place his hand on the top of your bare thigh under the table. The shock makes you jump and you hit your knee on the top of the table.

"Are you alright?" Liam asks looking slightly confused.

"Sorry, yeah. I just burnt my mouth." There's a slight hint of amusement in your words, you're a bad person but the situation is just too much not to find it slightly funny. The feel of Chris' hand on your thigh makes you feel butterflies in your stomach at the same time as the deep sick feeling of dread, your mind in a giant conflicted turmoil of feelings.

You can see Chris is also trying to hide his laugh as he takes a sip from his beer, one hand still on your thigh. Why the fuck am I sat in the middle? You hadn't thought about it when you'd sat down but now realise it was a massive mistake and also subconsciously the perfect place for you. The playing piece in a match against brothers, only one player is unaware there is any contest at all.

Chris finishes his beer and puts it down on the table loudly, filling the awkward silence between you all. You can understand the awkwardness between you and Chris but why is Liam not speaking? He wanted to see Chris to figure out what was wrong with him but he's not asking any questions. Has he figured it out? Did he see Chris touch your hand earlier? Had he seen you both whispering? You wriggle in your chair, feeling deadly uncomfortable and hoping Chris would move his hand. He didn't take the hint.

"Do you want another?" Liam asks Chris, already getting up from his chair and not waiting for an answer. Something is definitely wrong. Chris's hand moves further up your thigh, grazing the lace of your panties with the tip of his long finger. He's also completely oblivious to your awkwardness, drinking too much is numbing his senses and becoming dangerous. He's playing with fire. 

You fling your chair back from the table, standing abruptly, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and nervousness.

"I'm just gunna get some more beers from the basement." Liam announces, Chris sat cooly in his chair with not an ounce of nervousness.

"It's ok I'll go, you guys have a chat." You say, desperately needing to escape for a minute to catch your breath.

"Don't be silly, it'll only take me a minute." Liam says, already walking towards the door.

Chris takes his cue again, standing from his chair and moving over to you. Standing closely so he can whisper in your ear, his arm pressed to the small of your back while he holds you against him.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed again tomorrow Y/N. I've waited too long." 

"Chris, shh." 

"No, you shh. I wish I had you now, right here. I could just sit you up on this counter and fuck you right here -" He moves his hand up your skirt, gripping your ass in his big hands. "- You want that don't you? Tell me." His teeth graze the skin on your neck, making your head hang back loosely. You want it so bad, all your tension melts away as your muscles relax in his arms.

"We've got all weekend Chris, we can't do this here. It's too risky." You sigh, carefully wrapping your arms around his neck and listening for any sign of Liam.

"Fuck I know but it's so hard being here with you and not being able to fucking touch you." He moves away from you, running his hand though his hair in frustration.

"I told you how hard it'd be." You say.

"How hard what would be?" Liam asks breathlessly. Fuck. You hadn't heard him coming back, how much more had he heard? 

You're lost for words, completely frozen in shock. If he hadn't heard or seen anything it was still way too close for your liking.

"To shoot this ball of foil into that bin from all the way over here." Chris replies hastily, you're incredibly impressed with his quick thinking.

"Let me have a go then." Liam says, taking the foil from Chris. Typical competive brothers. Chris turns to you and winks devilishly, you're perfectly aware of how desirable he looks but you try to push that thought aside. You can't be thinking about that, the things he had just been saying and the thrill of almost being caught, all at once. 

"My turn." You say raising your eyebrows at them both as you swing your hips, confidently over to the fridge. Chris bites his lip as he watches you walk over. "Watch and learn boys." This is quite possibly the strangest situation you've ever been in but you might as well make the most of it.

You shoot your shot and land the foil ball straight into the bin. Turning around and bowing, you're wide eyed when you straighten back up. They both moved towards you as if they were going to kiss you, luckily Chris stopped himself in time.

"Only you could've landed that shot." Liam says, picking you up in his arms, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around him while he kisses your lips deeply. 

You risk a glance at Chris over Liam's shoulder and he's seething with anger, you can see it written all over his face. 

"I'm gunna go outside for some air." Chris announces blankly while Liam sets you back on the ground, a look of concern on his face.

"You alright bro?" Liam asks with no reply from Chris as he walks out of the door.

You get on with the cleaning up, distracting yourself and hoping Liam hadn't noticed Chris' reaction. You can sense Liam behind you, stood on the spot thinking. He's working it out, he's putting together all the pieces and finally working it out.

"I've worked out what's wrong with Chris." He comes up behind you, emptying the plates into the trash. Fuck, here we go.

"What do you mean?" You ask gently, not really wanting to hear his conclusion.

"You know, the reason why he's been moping about all the time." You don't turn around, you just listen, hiding your face and any reaction you're showing. "Well he's quite obviously jealous of us." He adds. There we go, he's worked it out or he's definitely worked out Chris' part in it all.

You felt your stomach drop, Chris was so obvious it wouldn't take a genius to see something was wrong.

"What makes you say that?" You press, carefully. Your back still turned to Liam while you clean the surfaces.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice how he just acted when I kissed you." Of course you noticed, you just hoped Liam hadn't. It won't be long until he puts all the pieces together and figures this all out, if he hasn't already. You pour the last of the bottle of wine into your glass, gulping it greedily. Lord knows you're going to need it.

"He needs a girlfriend, can't you fix him up with one of your friends?" You can't describe the relief you feel right now and a small twang of jealousy at the thought of Chris with one of your friends.

"I'm sure your brother isn't short of admirers Liam, he doesn't need me to fix him up" Your tone of voice was a little too short. Pull it together.

"I suppose you're right but he doesn't have the best taste in women does he?" You can feel your cheeks burning, you're fighting the urge to defend yourself. Telling Liam his brother had the same taste in women when it came to you, wouldn't go down quite so well would it? 

"I'm seeing someone actually Liam." Chris says, overhearing your conversation as he came back in after finally composing himself.

"Oh really? You never said." Liam asks curiously.

"Yeah, we're keeping it to ourselves for now... Until she tells her boyfriend." What the actual fuck? You can't believe he's just said that, he looks at you defiantly, completely over this whole thing.

Liam nearly spat his drink out and you're sure your cheeks are beetroot red, you don't have a clue what to do in this situation. 

"Is she married? Do I know her?" Liam questions further. You're hoping and praying he stops with the questions, Chris is ready and willing to come clean, you can tell by his expression.

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

[marchioness-caprina]

You Like Me Not?

Pairings : Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warnings : Mild Cussing

Word Count 3290

3rd Person's POV

" Hawks. I'll ask you Nicely ok? Can you Please Please keep your distance from That New hero in your agency? That Foxy bimbo bitch what's her name again? " Y/n ranted narrowing her eyes towards Keigo who was casually lounging down on the couch with an amused look on his face.

" Now now Little Dove, I can't avoid her if you don't even know her name. But if I must say it then... Hmm" Keigo's eyes gleamed mischievously at the female in front of him as he uttered a word that made y/n go red with anger .

" Enchantress? "

" Keigo. " Y/n gave him a stern look and he just laughed at her face like it was a joke.

" Listen Kid. Looks like you gotta have another reality check. I can't avoid her because.... " Keigo paused his eyes never leaving y/n's angered face.

" Because? " Y/n growled impatiently as she crossed her arms.

" 1. We're Not even dating but here you are acting like you're MY girlfriend when you're clearly you're.... Not. " Keigo chuckled and y/n who knew that it was a fact flinched; feeling as if a million bricks were dropped on top of her head. The way he said it was like a harsh blow to the gut but she kept her usual strong expression.

" 2. We're working under the same agency so getting paired up with her isn't avoidable... Plus as her hero name states... She is enchanting " Keigo's smirk only grew as y/n's face became flushed with anger. Her eyes burning up dangerously as she gave a venomous glare at Keigo.

" And last but not the least... 3. I'm not interested in a first year kid. So chances of the two of us of ever dating is a Big fat No. Plus I think Enchantress is a lot more prettier than the average and if you ask me... I'd go after adults like her than Kids like you so stop acting like we're---" Although Keigo's Tone was indeed playful and the smirk on his face made it even more clearer. His words stung like hell.

Y/n who was visiting their agency and went straight up to his office to complain had taken in the harsh damages and blows. Yes she may be a first year brat in U.A but was it really terrible to love someone older than her by a few years?.

Apparently she was a little naive in terms of love so when Keigo saved her when she was still in middle school she fell in love. Who wouldn't? He's got undeniable charms, a pretty face , a well sculptured figure but most of all. He made her feel safe and protected, setting she never felt before so when she finally began studying in U.A she decided to pursue Hawks so it was very common for her to come by the agency. Almost everyone knows who she is by now.

So this was the usual; but it was the first time she walked out on Keigo who was still Talking.

Because it was honestly too much. After she confessed to him and started pursuing him, Keigo decided to be a Jerk and gave her a very hard time. When she'd come over to give him lunch he'd purposely fly away and call her to deliver it to a specific place but when she gets there he calls her again to either say that she was taking too long and left or he had 'accidentally' gave the wrong address and he needs her to send it on this one instead.

And he keeps doing that everytime. He even went as far as to go to another town to have her chasing him like a madman. Yet her determination never faltered. Something Hawks had came to acknowledge her for.

He sends her on wild goose chases and one time he gave her 3 wrong addresses even though he was only sitting in his office the whole time.

And if people think his wings are sharp then his words are sharper. He may be sweet to the media or the other people outside but when talking to her, his words are venomous, sarcastic, and over all it's just rude and pretty painful to hear.

How y/n had managed to stand strong until now was a mystery and everyone in the agency had grew to respect her for this but also carrying a little hatred for Hawks who purposely plays with her.

Keigo who was left in his office was speechless, he blinked a few times and even pinched himself to see if he was dreaming and when he found out that he wasn't he gave out a sigh.

It was quiet, far too quiet. His mind drifted off to y/n who had stormed out of his office awhile ago. Yes he was very much aware of the cruel treatment he was giving her but that's only because he wanted to see how persistent this girl was with her love for him, he thought she'd give up within the second time but when she never did he grew even more intrested and began testing her a lot more than intended and when he found out that her affection for him was too strong.

He didn't know what to do and began running away like a coward. It was wrong in so many levels. She was younger than him not to mention she's still studying in U.A, His job isn't necessarily designed to have a normal life and finding love and making a family IS normal, and he might die one day and he didn't want her to carry the burden of losing him so it's better to make her hate him.

But boy was he wrong when she kept coming back stronger than before. She was already forcing her way in his heart that he became distressed with his emotions.

And poof, he suddenly realized that he loved her back.

Something about her allured him to no ends and curse his animalistic instincts when it comes to mates because as much as he hates to admit it, he had already acknowledged her as a Mate. HIS mate. He can't help but be greedy and possessive of her, and the the mighty knows how many nights he had to lock himself in, restrain himself while his self control was being brutally tested on ; because with one wrong move he may have already infiltrated U.A causing a security distress, Crashed inside her dorm room , fucking bred her like a feral animal and claimed her like the pretty little mate she was.

Everytime he sees her, his control weakens and he had to hit himself and punch his face multiple times literally to remind himself that she was still a goddamn minor and he can't have his way with her yet.

She's not making it any easier for him so he developed a bad habit of taking it out on her because if his words can't do the talking then he might as well jump her bones and have her screaming his name.

Keigo groaned as he planted his palm on his forehead.

He was beginning to feel anxious. Like something bad was about to happen; something he didn't like at all.

He turned on the T.V and started reading through a few papers works but he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He jumped out the window and began feverishly looking for the h/c haired girl.

" Fuck me and my Fucking Hormones... God.... Kid what have you done to me? " He mumbled but it came out as a growl instead. He was agitated, frantic and nervous, he couldn't get her out of his head even if he'd hit his head on a fucking billboard.

His eyes darting to every direction he knew she would take to get here. As creepy as it may sound but he knows every single route she'd take to get to his agency including the transportation she'd take to get there every time.

After some time he finally spotted her after dashing and flying at jet speed throughout the city like a mentally deranged patient he had finally spotted her .

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he tried to regain his cool.

" Hey Kid" He yelled out once he was near enough and he got no answer.

Y/n had purposely ignored him. His words still rang inside her head and everytime she remembered. It made her heart clench in pain.

And when she heard her name being called out by the said Male . She wanted to turn around. hell she even wanted to run to him like a love sick little puppy but she can't let him see that she was crying.

So she ignored him and began walking at a faster pace.

" Oohh~ playing hard to get now aren't we? You know you gotta try harder. A little silent treatment isn't going to have me falling for you ya know" keigo casually stated with a hint of playfulness but he knew any better; he was desperate to have her attention back to him.

God, what did he do? Did she finally wake up and decided that she was sick of his bullshit treatment? Shit now what?.

After minutes of no answer Keigo began to feel frustrated and without thinking he landed behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder. only to whirl her around to face him.

" Kid---"

Keigo froze after seeing here blood shot eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He did it this time and he felt like a full blown jerk for doing this... For hurting her.

Y/n avoided any form of eye contact and placed her eyes on anywhere but him, lips quivering in a mixture of anger and sadness. She looked like a mess.

But Keigo thought otherwise though, he felt so sick of himself. The face she was making, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, quivering lips. It had disgustingly turned him on even though the situation screamed otherwise. His thoughts began to drift into the dirtiest part of his mind wondering if this face would be the reward he'd get if he'd have her under him, sprawled all over his sheets, sweaty and needy for him while crying-- no begging for him to give her more while he rearranged her guts. Damn he really was Messed up in every possible way.

He wanted to slap himself for thinking that way but a part of him couldn't blame himself because ever since she started coming over he had been so pent up it was a miracle he hadn't fucked her on the spot. And he didn't even have the guts to fuck another woman because he already acknowledged her as a mate; HIS mate.

He swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

" What's this? Now you're giving me a Sad and Pity worthy face? If you're making me feel guilty then it's working. I didn't think you'd stoop this low th---"

" Takami leave me alone. I don't want to see you right now, if you came here to insult me even further then just Go. " Y/n cut him off, she was unable to bring herself from listening to another one of his remarkable insults again when the wound was still fresh.

Keigo paused as his once playful stare began to change into a more intimidating and stern look.

' Leave you Alone? After what you've done to me? Oh~ what a naughty baby bird... No Never.... I'll keep this in mind when I finally claim you, I'll punish you for ever thinking of leaving' those thoughts circulated through Keigo's head as he silently stood there. Staring at her.

Y/n who was unable to handle the pressure tried to yank herself away from his hold but he had a grisly grip on her shoulders and his gaze managed to intimidate her enough to stop moving.

" Listen.... Y/n---"

" Senior Hawks! " Keigo was cut off from speaking and to top it all up he was taken by surprise and his reflexes kicked in; pushing y/n away quite harshly.

Their gazes were flung to the left where Enchantress, the new Hero in their agency was running towards them with a devious smile.

Keigo groaned and y/n rolled her eyes after seeing the pink haired female make her way towards them.

" Hey " Keigo muttered but again; he was caught by surprise when Enchantress had wrapped her arms around his while smiling proudly at y/n.

" Who's This Senior? " She asked pointing at y/n but the look on her face made it obvious that she already knew who y/n was.

" She's y/n...a fan" Keigo's persona shifted in a heartbeat and was now wearing his natural and charming smile.

" Oh? She's a Fan? Well nice to meet you. I'm the new Hero Enchantress, Say... You have a pretty face " Enchantress smirked making y/n fight back a scowl.

" Thanks " As much as y/n wanted to drop all the pleasantries and Immediately move to the part where she's ripping of Enchantress's left boob.... She can't.

So she decided to keep it neutral and gave Enchantress a small nod and a smile.

" You have a pretty face... But... Senior if you were given a chance to pick, which one of us would you choose? I wonder" Enchantress cheered innocently but her question got Hawks cornered.

She was doing this on purpose; placing him in a situation where he'd most likely fuck up and judging by the looks the two females were giving him... He can't smooth talk his way outta this. Not this time.

" Of course.... I'd pick you-- " Keigo's eyes we're settled on y/n but he pulled his gaze away from her and towards enchantress. " Enchantress" Keigo finished and The look of triumph on The pink haired female's face was floor-bash worthy.

Y/n stood in place, for a moment there she had her hopes up. Keigo was cruel enough to pull that stunt on her; giving her false hope only to bring her down and rub it in her face.

" Or course you'd pick me, miss y/n is still a kid and she's... Take no Offense in this miss y/n but Senior Hawks is a bit... Hmmm... Out of your league?" Enchantress smirk grew wider and Hawks who was already lying through his teeth was still fighting his Pride for dominance.

With a sharp glare sent towards Enchantress who didn't seem to notice only scooted closer towards him.

" Oh, Really? Ok then "

Keigo blinked at how nonchalant and uncaring y/n's reply was. He was genuinely expecting her to explode like usual but this time it's different.

Y/n was fighting back the new batch of tears, heartbreak was a real pain in the ass. Couldn't he just put her down slowly? Why is he taking pleasure in hurting her this way? Now he's rubbing salt onto the wound.

In which area did she lack in? Her face? Body? Skill? Intelligence? Now that she thought about it, Enchantress tray lived up to her Hero name. She was perfect in every angle.... Perfect for Hawks. Enchantress had a nice body, a seductive face and y/n heard of the achievements done by the Female Hero.

She can't beat her even if she tried. She's mentally, physically and emotionally drained to even give a reaction. She'd just get hurt even more.

Maybe this is a sign.

For her to finally give up, move on, shift her focus and concentration to something more beneficial.

This was hopeless and all she ever got was pain. She's not a masochist who yearns for the continuous and brutal impact of emotional pain. Heck even masochists needs a little love too.

She's tired and y/n knows better than to put herself down with her own insecurities. So she needed to make a move fast because she'll only get hurt again.

It's wise to forget him.

With a deep breath she pulled out a strong front with a genuine smile on her face as she gazed at Keigo and Enchantress.

Keigo wore an anxious look while Enchantress held a surprised expression.

" Well, you two do look compatible and you're right he is out of my league.... That's why I'll look for someone else within my reach. He's not the only fish in the pond.... I'm sure I'm holding you guys back.. Carry on with your hero duties, I'll go back now Bye~" Y/n turned around and gave them a wave before skipping away from the two.

Her tone along with her smile looked far too cheerful that it scared Hawks.

Did she just say she'd look for Someone Else?, she had the guts to say that right in front of him?.

He balled his hand into a fist, and for the first time in his life he had never felt this scared to lose someone. He was breathing heavily while throwing a mental tantrum.

" You know.... I thought you'd finally stop that bad habit of yours Hawks.... I learned from the rumors and wanted to see for myself and probably give you a hand to confess to her but now that I've witnessed it, You really are a Fucktard" Enchantress shook her head as she crossed her arms gazing at Hawks with disappointment.

" Fuck off. This was your fault to Begin with. It's not as easy as you think"

" Really? You're blaming me for all the fuck ups you're responsible for? A girl's heart is fragile Hawks... I didn't live for a hundred years buried in the shelter of naivety. Her love was true and I think you just lost your chances.... If you wanna fix it. Fix it fast because once a girl has enough, she'll leave you like you're worth nothing. "

" I... I know I fucked up but your meddling wasn't necessary "

" Really? I was getting tired of watching you hurt her. I'm a woman too and I don't appreciate seeing other men hurt a woman who clearly loves them.... I did her a favor by giving her the ultimatum to let go... Looks like she took it in the end " Enchantress chuckled while Hawks stood there, his demeanor turning darker by the passing second.

" You're saying it's better that she leave me? " Keigo muttered Darkly , a dangerous look in his eyes began to resurface.

Enchantress kept a calm expression and nodded her head.

" You're Toxic Hawks. And it's better for her to leave you than seeing her get hurt over and over again... I've been in that stage before... And it hurts more than any injury I've suffered... "

" Since you're so knowledgeable about this then why not tell me how to fix it? Before I decide to go rogue and slit your throat" keigo threatened as he plucked out a feather which turned rudged and sharp; pointing it at Enchantress .

" Hmm... You seem to Love her judging by how strongly you reacted ... But you're worst than shit in showing it... But here's a tip . If you wanna fix it then fix yourself first. Learn how to treat a woman you like as if she's greater than a queen and remember that I'm not the one who hurt her...it was you." With those words being uttered Enchantress disappeared in a puff of smoke.

........ To be continued

[2manyfandoms2count]

Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

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Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6

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Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

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Rating: M

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Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3

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A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!

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Chapter 6 . .

Be not inhospitable to strangers,

lest they be angels in disguise.

(W. B. Yeats)

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When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.

He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.

Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.

“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.

Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”

“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”

“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.

“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”

“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.

“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”

“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”

“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”

“No problem.”

While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.

“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.

“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.

Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”

Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”

“A while.” Another elusive answer.

He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”

“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”

“And Emma?”

“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”

After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.

He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.

Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.

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~·~·~·~

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Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.

During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.

“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”

“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”

The boy greeted him with a wide grin.

Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.

“I see. And why are you…?”

Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.

“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.

“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.

The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”

The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”

“Why boring?”

Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”

Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.

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~·~·~·~

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Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.

All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.

But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.

So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.

David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.

Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”

She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.

“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.

“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.

“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”

“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”

After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.

She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.

Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.

Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”

“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.

Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”

She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.

Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.

“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.

At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.

Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.

He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.

“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.

She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.

Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.

“And she for you, I take it?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.

“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.

Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”

The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”

“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.

“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.

After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.

Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”

Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.

Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.

But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.

Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.

“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”

The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”

“Thank you, mate.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.

“May I help?” Henry barged in.

A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.

“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.

“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.

Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”

The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.

“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”

“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.

“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.

Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.

There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.

Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.

On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.

And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.

Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.

Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.

Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.

"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.

Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.

Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.

“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.

Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.

“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.

.

.

~·~·~·~

.

.

Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”

He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”

He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.

In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.

He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.

Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.

“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.

She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”

She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

[wittyrosebush]

By Your Side

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Son!Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, Steve being a very tired father, Tony Stank being himself, mild swearing

Word Count: ~1.4k

Date Posted: 12/14/2020

Requested: Yes, the request is below

A/N: Hey, peeps! So this was requested by the lovely @slowkib​, sorry this is late by the way, love. I hope you still enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

This one turned out to be a lot longer than I anticipated, I'll make a part 2 and possibly a part 3.

Needless to say, Steve Rogers is a great father. The moment his son, Y/N, was born he promised himself he would put him first. Once, when he was 5, he practically had to be dragged by Tony and Natasha onto the quinjet for a mission when the child had a cold. He was devastated to leave his kid sick and alone. Y/N was what kept him wanting to get out of bed every day. Throughout the tantrums, vomiting, and teenage angst, Steve stayed by his side. 

. . . 

"Hey, dad? Can you throw me my water?" Y/n said from his spot on the mat as he finished his stretches with his aunt Natasha.

Steve tossed him the water bottle from the bench, "How are you feeling today? Is your shoulder any better?"

"A little, but it'll be better by the party tonight."

Tonight was the 80th anniversary of Stark industries, and Tony was getting ready to throw a party bigger than anything he had done before. Needless to say, most of the attendees were terrified. No one truly knew what the CEO had planned for the evening. For once, Tony Stark kept his plans secret.

"Don't wear yourself out," Steve cautioned as he saw his son and Natasha get in their fighting stances.

Within 1 and a half minutes, Y/n was being pinned to the ground. "You need to move more," the redhead spoke up as her nephew stood up with a grimace, "staying in one spot lets your opponent predict what you will do more easily."

The boy nodded and massaged his shoulder, "I'll remember that next time, but for now I'm going to hang out with Wanda."

His father started speaking but abruptly stopped at the sight of his son running out of the gym. The soldier sat back down with furrowed eyebrows and slumped shoulders.

The female sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "He's not a kid anymore, Rogers. Let him live a little."

Steve grunted in response and crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"Well if you are going to be grumpy then at least get a little bit of that anger out and spar with me."

. . .

"Another bad dream?" Y/n whispered as he put an arm around Wanda's shoulder.

She weakly nodded and continued to sob into her friend. "Pietro..."

The boy frowned and turned on the bed so he was facing her. Whenever one of them had a nightmare they would find comfort in each other's presence. Wanda would help him get back to sleep and he would listen to her grievances when she was unable to sleep.

"You know what happened isn't your fault. There was no way of knowing-"

"But I let him leave! I couldn't stop him because I was trying to do what I thought was right and-" her voice broke off and she returned to her place on Y/n's shoulder. The pain of what happened had never really left her, it had only shrunk for a few moments before overtaking her again.

He stayed silent, letting Wanda get out all the words she needed before it was too much. "I was an idiot thinking that we would be fine apart..."

"You did the best you could do in that moment. There was no perfect thing to do, Wanda."

Y/n dramatically slowed down his breathing, encouraging her to follow his action. And finally, she regained her breath. "I just want to get out of here, I don't belong with this team."

"We voth know that is a lie. I know you want to help people and this is the best way to do it."

She nodded in agreement, her puffy eyes not willing to look anyone in the face but much more relaxed. Y/n wrapped his friend in a hug and stayed like that until Wanda was satisfied.

. . .

After a couple hours of calming down, talking about their day, and a tickle fight (in which Y/n lost), the friends were ready to attend the party.

The boy had gone to his room to change and on his way he was met with the sight of his father arguing with the owner of the builder. "He is too young, Tony. Don't even think about it."

"He's an adult. And you can't really control him now, can you?"

Steve growled and took a step closer to the man, "He is still my son and I will not allow him to be manipulated by some reckless billionaire."

Y/n hid behind a pillar when he saw his father walking away from Tony. "Why were they arguing? Did I do something wrong?"

As if he read his nephew's mind, Tony came up next to him and shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong, kid. Your father is just being a meat head."

Y/n scoffed, "When is he not?"

"He's trying to look after you, and I understand that. But he needs to get the stick out of his ass and realize you are an adult."

Before the boy could respond, his uncle walked off. Y/n let out a frustrated sigh and walked to his room to take a nap.

. . .

After 30 minutes, Y/n woke up with a gasp as he felt himself being dropped onto the floor. Upon opening his eyes he could only see darkness. As he looked around, he could feel jackets on hangers and dress shoes on the floor. “Dad!”

Steve was in his room next door doing paperwork when he heard his son yell. The soldier leaped from his desk and almost broke down the doors on the way to him.

Steve's thunderous steps could be heard by anyone within the floor. He did end up ripping off the closet door and picking up his son, "Are you ok? What happened? Are you hurt? Did-"

Y/n cut him off, "Dad, I'm fine. No need to get yourself worked up."

"Kid, you yelled for me and I thought you were hurt and I-"

"DAD!" The father was brought out of his thoughts by his Son, "I'm fine. Nothing bad happened."

"Then what DID happen?"

The boy was about to answer when he was brought into a tight hug by the super soldier. He returned the gesture with a hum, he didn't know what happened but he didn't care because he was with his dad, his protector.

But did he really need a someone to protect him, he thought. He had trained with the Avengers since he was old enough to fight. He knew what he was doing, so why was his dad so worried? Did he think he was weak or helpless? He let go of his father and took a step back, looking at him through serious eyes.

"Do you think I'm not strong?"

Steve scrunched up his nose for a second, taken by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Why were you so scared for me? Is it because I'm not as strong as you or anyone on your team?" The boy sneered at the man and crossed his arms.

"Y/n, why would you think that?"

Y/n took a step forward in a sad fury, "I'm not a kid anymore! I'm not some weak child that you can only keep to feel like your worthy of something."

And at this moment, Steven Grant Rogers' heart broke. His son thought he was using him. And he felt powerless for the first time in years.

"Just get out, dad." Y/n turned around so his father couldn't see the tears falling down his face.

Steve stood frozen for a moment, terrified to move and make matters worse. Hearing his son sniffle is what made him move. The thought of his presence hurting his son made him drag himself back to his room. He sat on his bed, his face in his hands as he silently sobbed into his palms.

After his father left, Y/n wiped the tears from his eyes, "You are stronger than this." The male walked back to his closet and pulled out his outfit for the party, wanting to distract his racing mind.

As he put on his top he thought back to when he woke up.why had he woken up in the closet and not his bed? The boy furrowed his brows and put on the rest of his clothing, assuming he had been sleep walking. There was no other logical explanation... was there?

[scripttorture]

I came across your Torture in Fiction tab where you reviewed a Doctor Who episode and mentioned your love of the show so I'm going to mention exactly what I'm writing. It's basically a Bill/Heather story after they leave together and I'd like to accurately take into account the type of consequences (short term and long termr) of the entire turned into a cyberman ordeal. So any input would be highly appreciated.

Anon, I think I love you. Lesbian romance in the stars with one of my favourite characters, you are too kind.

 Let’s start at the beginning.

 For those unfamiliar with Doctor Who, the Cybermen are a recurring foe. The idea behind them is that they are people, cybernetically enhanced people with all the ‘unnecessary’ bits removed. Like the ability to feel pain or hope or love. The ultimate aim of the Cybermen is to make everyone else like them. They believe that not having emotional connections makes them superior.

 And in one of Bill’s stories she gets turned into a prototype Cyberman. Except due to some unique circumstances the programming doesn’t quite take. Bill is left with a Cyberman body but her thoughts, personality and ability to feel are intact.

 Through more unique circumstances (which depending on your interpretation may include Bill dying and being resurrected-) Heather restores her body as it was pre-Cybermen.

 We’re never told exactly what happens to Bill. But it’s clear from the context that the procedure is painful and not consensual.

 We do see Bill for a few days afterwards. She struggles to accept that she’s a Cyberman and doesn’t seem to know how to process what she’s been through. She seems more or less OK, but given the short time frame we see her for it’s difficult to say if this is a bad portrayal or not. For some people it takes a while for things to sink in and for symptoms to become apparent.

 Going forward I’m going to assume that’s the case for Bill.

 I’m going to make a couple of other assumptions because there isn’t anything in reality which lines up that well with the Cybermen.

 There is not anything that can really 'take away' all emotions. Some drugs can result in emotional blunting as a side effect, but less intense emotion is not the same thing as no emotion. The intense, invasive surgical procedures that are implied to make a Cyberman are completely fictional, and probably wouldn't be survivable in reality.

 It's a scenario that you'd expect to be traumatic: an extremely painful, invasive act that re-structures the entire body and is done without consent. Given the particular circumstances in Bill's story, it's tempting to compare it to non-consensual medical procedures.

 As a black, lesbian woman who is aware of both modern politics and history it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume Bill can make the same comparisons I have. Black women have been subjected to forced sterilisation and used for medical experimentation within living memory (see The Immortal Life of Henreitta Lacks for a discussion of unethical experimentation in the recent past).

 Heather is less likely to be aware of this history and these issues.

 As I said there isn't anything that lines up exactly; I keep thinking of forced sterilisation, though this often doesn’t cause lasting physical pain. It also brought to mind some of the… less ethical ‘treatments’ and ‘experiments’ in recent history.

 We’ll assume that Bill has a realistic memory of what happened, that the experience was traumatising and that she isn’t in physical pain.

 I’d also make the argument that turning someone into a Cyberman could be considered torture in the legal sense. It’s done by a group that effectively controls territory, to people who are under their power. It causes suffering and in Bill’s case it is arguably done to punish the Doctor.

 You’ve read the blog before so you probably know the drill when it comes to the common long-term symptoms of torture. Here’s the Masterpost should anyone else want to have a look. I’ll get back to symptoms in a moment.

 In the short term I think that it’s likely Bill would experience something similar to modern survivors of ‘clean’ tortures.

 ‘Clean torture’ is a term Rejali uses to describe techniques that don’t often leave obvious external marks. These are no less dangerous then other methods; people can still be seriously injured, disabled or die because of clean torture techniques.

 But the lack of obvious marks makes it harder to prove a person was tortured. And when the public perception of torture is that it always leaves scars many survivors find they’re dismissed, belittled and denied services.

 People don’t believe they were tortured. Because we are taught that torture ‘must’ leave marks.

 And Bill has just come out of the Cyber-conversion process unscarred. In a world where most people believe that turning back once you’ve been made a Cyberman is impossible.

 This is likely to be a factor if she tries to get professional help as well as in everyday interactions.

 Bill herself might assume that her symptoms are overblown or somehow put on; that they’re not warranted because her body has been perfectly restored.

 When it comes to more long term symptoms, the right choice will always depend on the characters and the story you want to tell.

 Personally I wouldn’t want to give Bill suicidal tendencies or an addiction because I feel like those are symptoms that could shift the story away from the central relationship. I think they’re symptoms that usually demand more focus and that can make balancing them with the central story more difficult.

 I usually suggest that authors try to include memory problems in a realistic way and I think they’d be an especially good fit here. (The Masterpost summarising the most common forms of memory problems survivors have is here).

 Essentially I think that you could use memory problems to highlight how Bill’s time as a Cyberman has affected her mind. So much of our identity and self-image is rooted in our memories. Finding flaws in them, especially around important things, can shake our sense of self.

 And that ties in to the way Cybermen are consistently used in Doctor Who to denote the loss of self. All of the common memory problems could be used to raise these philosophical questions and tie Bill’s symptoms more firmly to the plot.

 Insomnia is a symptom I always find a little difficult because it has so many knock on effects.

 The worsening of reaction times, alertness, coordination, combined with the pain and shakes and occasional visual hallucination or micro-sleep means that insomnia isn’t a symptom I’d recommend for a character like a superhero. If you want the character to consistently win fights then it’s not a good pick.

 Similarly the long term effects on creativity, reasoning, concentration, emotional processing and learning mean it’s a bad pick if the character is supposed to be an inventive genius.

 One of the nice (but underutilised) things about Doctor Who is that the way the stories are typically structured means that not every character has to be exceptional at everything. Bill’s strengths were not superhuman physical combat or exceptional genius (even though she was incredibly intelligent); they were compassion and her ability to form fast, strong friendships with just about anyone she meets.

 Insomnia could fit your story but I think it depends on what you want the characters to do on a regular basis.

 Chronic pain could be a good fit.

 The conversion process radically changed Bill’s body, a change that she more or less refused to accept was real during the story. In those circumstances physical pain can be an interesting addition: it simultaneously acts as a reminder of what Bill suffered and ties her to her restored body now.

 And since chronic pain in torture survivors can be psychological, or a combination of psychological and physical, there’s no reason why Bill’s body couldn’t be perfectly healed while experiencing chronic pain.

 This is also a symptom that characters can be more proactive about. She can try things and find solutions much more quickly then she might be able to for something like depression. Stretches, exercise, mobility aids, organisation, painkillers and forward planning can all be helpful. And early success could help you to show the character feeling more empowered, reclaiming her body.

 I’m not sure if difficulty relating to others would be a good pick, considering Bill’s canonical strengths. However social isolation could be interesting as an obstacle to gradually overcome.

 Going beyond the usual symptoms- Have you read any of the Doctor Who comics? Because I keep thinking of The Flood, which was a Cyberman story with the Eighth Doctor.

 It had a rather wonderful Cyberman design and had the Cybermen attempting to persuade large numbers of people to volunteer for Cyber conversion. They did it by chemically manipulating the emotions of an entire city; making feelings unbearably intense and then offering the conversion process as a solution.

 Bill kept her feelings but she would have known she was supposed to lose them. And she’d go from that to having incredibly intense feelings. Because she’d have developed trauma symptoms.

 She might be tempted to view her symptoms as the ‘natural’ consequence of regaining full capacity for emotion, rather then due to trauma. Latching on to a physical, rather then psychological, difference.

 I’d also consider whether all of this changes Bill’s relationship with her own body. Relief at getting it back might be accompanied by a heightened awareness of changes, even natural ones.

 I think if I was writing this I’d be tempted to add in little details, triggers or self-soothing behaviours tied to her body.

 The Cyberman chest unit for that design looks heavy. Does compression around her chest make her panic? Do rubber gloves feel horrible? Does the sensation of something going over her face, like the ‘mask’ on these Cybermen, prompt intrusive memories?

 The ‘handles’ on the head were supposed to suppress emotion in this version. Could Bill reassure herself that they’re gone by touching her own hair? Do short sleeves feel ‘better’, because she can feel the sun, wind or rain against her skin? Does she wear her earrings more often, because the weight of them and the way they move is comforting?

 Good luck with your story. I hope this helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

[sparkly-despair-imagines]

Hey! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯ you are still doing asks again, right? If you aren't, I'm sorry for bothering you!!!could I request the sdr2 boys reacting to their s/o almost dying? kinda like how ouma fell through the floorboards in v3 and was very injured? I don't doubt he could've died from the impact, bonus if, despite crying from pain, they just say "ah, hey! I didn't see u there, wow im in so much pain,,," or something like that in the most monotone voice when spotting them

Fuyuhiko, Hajime and Nekomaru reacting to their s/o almost dying

I didn’t have the time to do all of them right now so please have Hajime, Nekomaru and Fuyuhiko for now.

Fuyuhiko and Nekomaru’s imagine takes place in a killing game scenario while in Hajime’s you’ve been dating for quite some time and you’re on the outside world.

If you guys wanna see some other characters with this prompt feel free to ask and maybe I’ll do some more.

I hope you like these!

Mod Dia

Hajime Hinata

“Isn’t the view beautiful from up here?” He turned to you with a smile.

He was taking pictures with his right hand and holding your hand on his left one, because he knew you were… prone to accidents.

This was the first time you were traveling as a couple, it felt surreal!

You wanted to see and try everything, making Hajime feel a bit worried and act more like your mom than your boyfriend.

You freed yourself from his protective grip and started to wander off closer to the tip of the cliff you were visiting.

“Careful, s/o.”

“I’m always careful, you know?” You turned around noticing some pretty flowers on the ground. “Oh, these are gorgeous.”

“You’re right, they’re really beautiful.” He said looking at directly at you. “I’m glad we came here, the view is just as amazing as I had imagined.”

He put a hand around your waist and gently pulled you next to him again.

“Feeling flirty, are we?” You giggled, taking a step on the opposite direction, not really looking at where you were going. “Did you see all the cute shops over there? I would love it if we- AHH!!”

The ground beneath you suddenly gave in and you felt yourself fall backwards.

His hand reached out to grab yours but it was no use. The only thing he was able to do is yell out your name and watch your horrified expression as you tumbled down.

You covered your head with your arms and tried to stay calm but every time your body hit the hillside you couldn’t help but to scream in both pain and fear.

You should have listened to Hajime.

If only you had listened…

Now you know that he’s going to blame himself for not being able to save you.

“Hajime…” You silently called for him, getting progressively closer and closer to the ground. “I know you’re gonna help me. Don’t… worry too much.”

You felt yourself finally hit the hard ground and after that you remember only darkness.

(…)

“I’m here for you…” You opened your eyes to see Hajime crying and holding your hand.

You were laying down and he was crouched by your side comforting you.

“Shh, it’s okay…” You placed your finger on his lips and gave him a pained smile.

“You finally woke up, thank god…” He sighed in relief. “I already called an ambulance, you just have to stay still and wait. Can you do that for me?”

“I can.” You said. “It’s… It’s not your fault, you know?”

“..Uh?”

“I know you’re worried.” You cupped his cheek with your dirty and scratched hand. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“S/o.” He stared at you. “I’m surprise you can even talk after that fall.”

“I’ll be ok.”

Hajime held back the urge to hug you so he didn’t hurt you more and limited himself to carefully rub the back of your hand.

He can’t believe that even though you’re suffering so much you’re worried about him.

You’re the bravest person he knows.

He believes in you. So please be strong just one more time.

Nekomaru Nidai

You were supposed to be training with Nekomaru that day but you told him that you were too tired and that you needed to rest, so he began the training with only Akane.

He was worried about you because you needed to learn how to protect yourself in case someone tried to hurt you, but he knew training in excess might do bad for one’s health.

You decided to spend your free time at the pool with some of your friends.

You had a blast and time went by flying.

”It’s getting late, s/o.” Sonia said finishing to dry her hair with a towel. “Are you sure you wish not to accompany us?”

“I want to stay a little bit more on the pool.” You gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, you can go ahead.”

“Very well.” She returned your smile. “If you change your mind you’re welcome to join us.”

She then walked to Hajime, who was waiting for her, and the two of them entered the hotel.

You continued swimming, and after a while you decided it was enough and you got out of the pool.

It felt really nice to relax once in a while. Next time you’d make sure to bring your boyfriend along!

You stepped out of the pool, feeling refreshed and ready to join the others.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy and tried to stabilize yourself by holding onto a chaise long nearby the pool but your grip wasn’t strong enough and you fell down.

Your head hit the ground and you blacked out almost immediately.

(…)

“Is s/o… d-dead?” You heard one of your classmates say.

“This is all my fault!” You heard someone cry. “I shouldn’t have left s/o all alone.”

“Calm down, Sonia.” Another person said. “It’s not your fault. They’ll surely be ok, right Mikan?”

“I-it would appear so.” You opened your eyes, slowly regaining your vision.

The ultimate nurse was sitting next to you, desperately trying to stop the bleeding on your head.

“Where is…” You started looking around. “..Nekomaru?”

“Has someone called the guy yet?” Kazuichi turned to his peers.

“Peko went to get him.” Fuyuhiko said.

Your friends tried to keep you calm and distracted while Mikan tended to your wound.

Soon, Nekomaru was there to hold your hand and comfort you.

“I’m really sorry I let this happen to you.” He said. “I won’t blame you if you’re angry at me.”

“This.. is nothing.” You forced yourself to smile. “It is neither your or Sonia’s fault. I was clumsy. My bad, big guy.”

He closed his eyes and kept quiet for a bit, you felt his grip around your hand harden.

“Don’t blame yourself even for a second. How could you have known?” You said. “I love you. You’re amazing.”

“What?” He chuckled. “Why am I letting myself be comforted by you when *I* was supposed to be doing that to you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.”

“I’m sure you will.” He said. “I believe in my athletes. And I definitely believe in you, s/o.”

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

It was the middle of the night.

At this time everyone was probably sleeping in their assigned room but you had the munchies so you sneaked into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

You made yourself some pancakes and sat at a corner enjoying the treat.

You were having a pretty big bite when you suddenly heard noise coming from outside. Startled, a piece of pancake got into your trachea and seemed to be stuck.

Your trachea clenched shut and you started panicking, trying to get the piece out.

Meanwhile the sound was getting closer and closer until you heard a familiar voice.

Was that… Fuyuhiko?

You wanted to scream for help but no sound would come out. Tears started forming on your eyes as you tried to cough it out.

Your throat was in searing pain, swelled and irritated.

By the time your boyfriend got to you, you were already on your knees, your face turning blue. You clutched your throat.

“S/O!” He ran to help you to your feet and started performing the Heimlich maneuver.

After some unsuccessful tries he was able to get the piece out.

You dropped to the floor again, exhausted.

He let out a huge sigh of relief seeing that you were ok, then turned to you. “What the hell were you thinking , s/o!?”

“…”

“Do you even have ANY IDEA of what could have happened!?” He kicked a nearby chair in frustration.

“What would be of me… without you?” He turned his face to you again and dried off the tears he hadn’t noticed were starting to form.

“..I’m…ok.” You said.

“That’s just because I got here in time.” He said. “How could you do this to me? What if someone took you by surprise and tried to kill you or something?”

“I’m fine now. Thanks for the help.”

“You goddamn idiot, if you ever do something like this again I swear to god-”

“Fuyu.” You stared at him.

“..Sorry, s/o.” He took a deep breath. “From now on you’re gonna stay at my dorm. You’re a danger to yourself. I clearly can’t trust you to take care of yourself so I’ll be doing it for you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Fuyuhiko.”

“Fuck yeah you do. And when I can’t watch you I’ll get someone to do it for me.”

“I’ll be more careful next time.” You got up and opened your arms. “Can I… have a hug?”

He didn’t say anything but allowed you to embrace him. “Don’t do this to me, s/o…”

You rubbed his back with your hand.

“As you know, I already lost someone very close to my heart.” He said. “I…won’t force you to sleep in my room or to be with me all the time. But please… At least tell me where you’re going if you don’t want me to go with you.”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He closed the distance between the two of you and kissed your lips.

When he pulled away he was blushing intensely, even though he was the one to kiss you. You laughed at his cuteness which he didn’t find very funny.

“I know that because of the situation we’re in you get worried when I’m alone.” You said. “From now on we stick together, okay?”

“Like you have to say it twice.” He smirked.

[lovethisletters]

Hi! Again I must say: I’m sorry for taking so long, things got complicated but now I have little bit of time…besides I’m wery picky with translations (as you would see in a moment). Anyway, I was very much excited for and while writing this, since I found myself to be very fond of Faith and her relationship with Tim (they’re the cutest) so I tried my best!

Ps: The title of “Refuge” doesn’t have that much relevance in this scenario, is just the title of the song I was listening to while writing this (I think it describes perfectly how Tim’s and Faith relationship might evolve); in case you listen to it but aren’t really familiar with spanish language, here it is subtitled! But there’s minor errors on the translation:

1.     "Eres como el sol caliente y yo soy marte" wich means "You're like the warm sun and I'm like mars".

2.     "Soy desordenado cuando quiero" the word quiero/querer in spanish can mean several things, normally indicating the yearning of something in a possesive (I want this to myself) or romantic (like: I love you)/aspirational (like: I want to become a writer) way (depends on context) so the most adecute in this case will be "I'm sloppy when I am in love" not "when I want" here is a little deffinition. 

3.     The most correct wording in "let me be, I'll help you" would be in fact: "Let me, I will help you".

 Pairing: Faith O’Neal (@insideoflit OC) x Tim Drake

Summary: Faith is tormented by her past to the point of being unable to sleep and have an anxiety attack, so Tim helps her get through it.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

 12:22 am

...

1:18 am

...

2:48 am

...

3:04 am

Her head registered every digit drawn on the clock next to his bed, counting every time she woke up;  but something within herself knew that I'd had been more than just 4. Her eyes weighed, but her mind did not stop, she kept thinking ... remembering and everything at the worst moment.

Maybe it had been 5 or at most 8 nights in a row without being able to sleep completely, but in fact, she really didn't remember the last time she had slept peacefully.  Months or even years ago?

She only knew that the situation had gone from bad to worse ...

What she thought was a simple period of insomnia which would most likely disappear a week later, became part of his routine, which had stopped bothering her a long time ago: intrusive thoughts, impossible variations in hidden memories and unanswered questions that would often come and go and multiplied in the dead of night.

And yet this time it was different ... it was a living nightmare.

The intrusive thoughts had quickly escalated and evolved to such extent that they now resonated aggressively, scratching the walls of his head, digging through everything she wanted to forget and shouting at her so that she could feel it in the depths of his being.

An imaginary pain that threatened to break his little head.

In.  That.  Exact.  Instant.

She felt his breath cut short at the thought of having to get used to all this, his chest full of emotions and an uncontrollable feeling of despair.

That's why she didn't think of anything other than running, rising abruptly from the bed, barely giving his brain time to process the situation;  she ran, as fast as his legs allowed her, she didn't care at all if they were going to break… she just wanted to escape from all that and ignore that past she had unintentionally remembered.

The smell of petricor invading her senses causing a feeling of anguish, seeing those memories instantly regain strength and torturing her in such a ruthless way...

—Hey! Be careful!— her thoughts abruptly interrupted to the feeling of his body collide and almost fall to the ground, if not thanks to the arm clinging to her waist preventing her fall.

—Are you ok?—Tim's eyes invaded by an expression of genuine concern, trying to search the answer to her irrational behaviour.

She was so immersed in her thoughts that she didn't even realize the moment she reached the garden and much less had noticed Tim standing in the middle of it…like some creepy scarecrow or something…

—I ...— His mind still not quite at the moment allowed for her words to float in the air in a sloppy way.

Tim looked at the girl carefully, trying to decipher what had put her in that state: her hair slightly disheveled by the gentle flushing of the wind, a cold sweat running down her forehead, eyes flushed, her pajamas had gotten a little dirty  due to his small race in the humidity of the night and his bare feet hugging the muddy floor.

—Come, you're going to get sick like this!— He reproached her gently trying not to overwhelm her as much as possible and guiding her back inside.

The living-room of the mansion was empty, wrapped in the cozy sound of silence; indicating the absence of most of its inhabitants.

Tim told Faith to sit by pointing at the couch with a slight nod, which she obeyed.

—Wait here—he ordered again, before disappearing down the hall that led to one of the many bathrooms and returning moments later with a pair of clean towels, leaving one of them over her head, with a small mischievous smile.

—Don't run like that, Faith, you could have slipped and gotten hurt…—He said kneeling in front of her, his hands on the towel shaking it slightly in an attempt to help her dry.

His calm voice hiding the reality of his restlessness.  She knew…knew she had worried him ... And that look only confirmed it, she had already seen it many times, maybe more than she should;  but it was something she could not avoid and that frustrated her greatly.

But Tim was always characterized by being perceptive and soon noticed the expression of guilt on Faith's face.

—Hey ... It’s ok—The Boy reassured by staring at her, still smiling, because he wanted her to really feel safe.

Tim knew that Faith had trouble sleeping, he knew perfectly the symptoms of insomnia: he had noticed the lights of her room stay on until dawn, dark circles highlighting her beautiful big eyes, her clumsy movements during the day, lack of concentration and had even once heard Bruce scolding her because of her teacher's multiple complaints accusing her of sleeping in class.

But she would never admit it… she "didn't want to be a bother"

Tim allowed himself to caress Faith's cheek, gently and delicately as if she were some kind of porcelain doll about to break.

—Do you want to talk about it?

Faith thought briefly before her eyes began to fill with tears that threatened to slip away.

—No, not really ...— A glimmer of guilt was noticeable in her response.

—It’s Okay. Don't feel like you have to—followed by those words, Tim felt the need to hug her;  his arms carefully surrounded Faith's small figure.

—Just know I'm always going to be here for you — his chin resting slightly on her head partially covered by the towel.

The tears that she had forced herself to hide, began to escape silently with an air of cynicism.

—Dammit— she cursed under her breath.

Noticing this, he quickly bent down again to wipe away her tears with his hands.

Faith was a strong, but stubborn person, many times denying herself the idea of ​​asking for help and this was no exception;  she didn't want Tim to see her that way, in her most vulnerable state;  but she also didn't want to leave, despite all the crying, she found Tim's company very much comforting.

So… she stood there, allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of other people for once in a really long time.

After a few minutes (maybe even more) when she had no more tears left, Tim spoke again.

—It's getting late, you should be asleep and unless Riddler is entertaining the bat, Bruce will be here at any minute and I don't want him to scold you for staying up so late, you have class tomorrow, right?

Faith nodded, releasing a small chuckle upon hearing Drake's motherly but bossy tone.

—Whatever you say, mom — emphasizing the word "mom" on a goofy manner.

He rolled the eyes pretending to be offended but without making the least of attempts to hide his own amusement.

—Go to your room, dummy!—

She raised her hands as if she were being arrested before turning around and running upstairs followed by Tim, who was also heading to his room.  However, something stopped her once she was standing in front of the door of her own room.

She didn't want to be alone ... at least not for tonight ...

A small knock on Tim's door caught his attention off of his monitors, at first he thought it was Alfred about to scold him like every other night for not sleeping or Damian who had arrived from patrol early and couldn't find Titus favorite chewing toy.

But no… there in the door frame stood Faith with a pillow under her arm and a slightly shy smile.

—You're supposed to be asleep.

—Right back at ya — she replayed quickly.

—I’m not the one who has to save his grades on algebra tomorrow, Faith—he said, reminding her of his test in the morning.

—Yeah, well… truth is… I can't sleep…

Her voice barely even believing herself.

—Can I… can I stay here? —Tim flushed wildly almost at the exact moment he heard those words come out of her mouth.

—I… Um.  Yeah  Yeah, sure — tripping on his own words he stepped clumsily into the side in order to let her in.

Tim's room was both a mess and incredibly clean… his desk was the messy part, probably because he spend a lot of his time glued to his computer to the point Alfred sometimes had to brake in and almost drag him outside to eat like a normal human  being instead of just feeding off of energy bars and coffee.

In comparison was the side of the bead, it was so clean. Everything looked almost brand new, since he barely slept and when he did it was just very quick naps before patrol.

—Make yourself comfortable— he signaled the bed before putting back on his headphones and to whatever he was doing.

—Aren't you going to sleep?— Faith asked as she settled between the sheets.

Tim was silent for a moment, trying to find an answer.

—Well ... maybe just for a little while…—

He finally spoke before joining Faith, keeping a adequate distance, which Faith quickly ignored by hugging him unexpectedly, burying his face in the boy's chest.

—Good night, Tim.—

Tim thanked the lights were off, otherwise Faith would have seen his face as red as a tomato.  The girl's touch was comforting and warm so he didn't think twice before reciprocating the hug and planting a small kiss on her head.

—Good night, Faith.

[gretavanfleetlife]

Only Time Will Tell:

Chapter 4

AN: Hey! This chapter is fkn CUTE lemme just tell ya. Sorry this part took a bit longer than the others, I’ve been pretty busy lately and I didn’t want to rush through it. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy, love you all!💕

Also big shoutout to my boy Rami Malek for portraying a legend beautifully and winning a well deserved Oscar tonight!!😊

Warnings: flufffff

Word count: 2,250

You open your eyes slowly, feeling a painful headache beginning and a sick feeling in your stomach. Last night was not kind. You start to remember all the events that took place yesterday but you quickly dismiss the memories, as they would only contribute to your headache and you'd rather just about forget them entirely. Your body aches. You go to stretch out your arms but stop when you notice an arm wrapped loosely around your waist. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Sam sleeping peacefully next to you. A light shade of pink grazes your cheeks and you lay still, not knowing what to do but slightly enjoying Sam's gentle touch. You decide that you should probably get up, moving your leg to the side of the bed in an attempt to sit up. You try to slide his arm off of your waist, but feeling you moving makes Sam tighten his grip on you and tug you back into his arms, pulling you close into his chest. His arms are tight around you now and there is practically no space in between the two of you. The blush on your face deepens as he nuzzles his face into your neck. You know you don't have any chance of moving from this without waking him up, so you decide to go back to sleep. Pressed snuggly against his body, you easily drift off into a hazy dream.

About an hour later, you wake up to feel Sam stirring awake. You feel his head pull back from being tucked against your neck.

"Holy shit," you hear Sam whisper as he loosens his grasp around you. You feel his body leave yours and find yourself wishing for it to return. You hear him move to sit up on the opposite end of the bed. You stretch and sit up, turning your body to glance at him. He faces the wall, shaking his head slightly while he runs his hand through his messy hair. You giggle at the fact that he was anxious to have been cuddling you since at first, you felt the same way. Sam hears you laugh and immediately turns. You see him blush as he looks at you with wide eyes, despite having just woken up. His expression softens slightly as he gives you a small smile.

"Morning y/n, you feeling ok?" He asks.

"I've been better but nothing I can't handle," you reply, as he gives you a small nod. Waking up in Sam's arms almost made you forget about your hangover completely. You notice Sam holding his right hand and examining it closely. "What's wrong with your hand?" you ask him. Sam glances up at you.

"Oh nothing it's fine," he says unconvincingly. You don't believe him, so you throw the covers off of your body and stand up, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where Sam sits facing the wall. He looks at you and his eyes scan over your body as you notice his shoulders slightly tense. You look down at yourself and realize you're wearing his t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You could see your bra lying on the ground near a pair of Sam's sweatpants on the other side of the bed. You begin to blush but quickly regain your focus and go to stand in front of Sam.

"Can I see your hand please?" you ask. Sam slowly removes his hand from between his arms and shows you his fist, his knuckles cracked with dry blood that looks extremely painful. You let out a small gasp and take his hand into yours, examining it, "oh Sammy, what did you do," you whisper, "come on let's clean you up." You continue to hold his hand as you lead him towards his bathroom. You turn on the tap and help him wash his bruised knuckles, rinsing away the blood. Sam watches you carefully while you tend to his hand.

"Jesus Sammy, how hard did you hit him?" you mumble.

"As hard as I could," he responds gently.

"I'm sorry about this Sam."

"Why? It's not your fault," he replies, his eyes still fixed on yours as you caress the back of his hand gently, turning the water off and drying his hand with a towel.

"I just feel like the fight only happened because of me," you frown, finished cleaning his fist.

"Y/n no don't feel bad, it happened because Cam is an asshole. No one should ever touch a girl like that. Especially if that girl is you." You look up at him, blushing at his words.

"Come here," you open your arms and pull Sam closely into a hug. You bury your face into his chest and listen to the faint beating of his heart. You always felt that Sam's hugs were to die for, standing completely engulfed in the warmth of his body. You wanted him to hold you here forever. You felt safe in his arms. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, a feeling you'd never gotten before from simply hugging Sam. You pull away and look up at him. For some reason, it was like you couldn't move your gaze away from his face. He gazed back at you, seeming to imitate your actions as his eyes swept across your face. You had been friends ever since you could remember, but at that moment it was like the first time you saw him.

"I think you should probably head home soon. Knowing your dad he'll probably be worried," Sam says softly. You listen to his words but your eyes don't stray from his face.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you say as you give him a small smile. You continue to study each other for a moment longer but decide it'd best for you to get going. You pry your eyes away from Sam and head towards his bed, grabbing your bra and dress that lay scattered across the floor and mindlessly throw it in a bag along with your clothes from yesterday. You daydream about Sam, hardly paying any attention as you put on his sweatpants that you found near the bed. You feel extremely confused, why do you feel this way about Sam now? What even is this feeling? You know that you find him attractive, his deep brown eyes and long wavy hair handsomely completing his facial features. But no this isn't right, this is the same Sam that you grew up with, nothing's changed. So why do you feel this way about him now? You finish packing your things and glance over at him to find him already looking at you.

"Do you want a ride home?" Sam offers as the two of you head out of his room together and walk downstairs.

"No that's ok Sam, I can walk," you reply politely. You want some time alone so you can figure out your sudden complex feelings towards Sam.

"Alright, I'll walk you over then," he decides, slipping on a pair of worn-in sandals.

"You don't have to," you smile, "I'll be ok."

"Well I gotta head over to my aunt's house anyway to grab lunch and she lives just past your house."

"Oh ok, great," you reply as the two of you walk out the door and start towards your house. You were thankful that you didn't live too far, just on the other end of the street. Being around Sam felt different now, although it was still a good feeling. You walked straight into the middle of the road, a habit you developed when you were kids that you've continued ever since.

-flashback-

The sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon as you walked on the sidewalk next to Sam. The two of you were headed back to school after a long summer filled with childish adventures. You were beginning grade 7 that year, so the two of you were used to walking to school without Josh and Jake. Frankenmuth High was located deeper into town, so the twins got a ride from their dad every morning. You didn't mind walking though. Your favorite part of every day was when you watched the sun peek over the fields in the distance, calmly walking towards it with one of your closest friends. You looked at Sam.

"It's too bad this summer's already over," you sighed as Sam nodded quietly.

"Yeah, it was fun while it lasted," he replied.

"I miss it already. The freedom of waking up knowing we can do whatever we wanted, go wherever we wanted," you remembered, sadly, "now we have to go to school every day. No more limitless freedom," you sigh, watching your feet crunch against the coarse gravel.

"Then let's not walk to school," Sam said as you looked up at him confused. He holds out his hand to you and you take it in yours. His fingers intertwine with yours as he guides you away from the sidewalk and onto the middle of the empty road. "Let's walk to the sun," he said as you smile up at him, "every day."

Sam kept his word. Every day since when you got up for school in the morning, Sam would be waiting outside your house, he'd offer his hand to you, and you would walk to the sun together.

-end of flashback-

Sam held his hand out to you and smiled as you took it in yours.

"We haven't done this in a while," you say grinning to yourself.

"I know, I miss it," Sam replies, his eyes ahead as the sun rests slightly above the road in front of you.

"So do I. That was my favorite part of the day, did I ever tell you that?"

"No, you didn't," Sam says, a wide grin appearing on his face, "it was always my favorite too." As you walk beside him down the empty road, you feel happier than you've been in a long time, the problems and pain of last night's events disappearing by the touch of Sam's rough hand in yours. You see your house approaching as you make your way down the road.

"Hey are you with Ethan now?" Sam asked. The sudden change in conversation couldn't possibly ruin your mood.

"No, were not. We had something going on between us for a while but then I saw him making out with some other girl. I guess I was wrong," you shrug, not caring enough about Ethan at the moment to be upset. Sam shakes his head.

"You deserve somebody better than him anyway." A smile tugs at your lips.

"Know anyone?" you ask. Sam lets out a small laugh.

"One," he says with a smile.

"Who, Danny? He's taken," you joke.

"Oh uh, yeah Danny's who I was gonna say." His smile fades. You laugh softly and you reach your house. He drops your hand as the two of you walk up your porch steps and stop in front of the door. Sam stands in front of you and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks," you say gently.

"Anytime, you know I like walking with you."

"No, thanks for everything," you continue, "last night I was really afraid of what Cam might have done and I couldn't have gotten through it alone. Anyway, thank you for taking care of me," you ramble. Sam smiles, his eyes sincere.

"I'll always take care of you," he says softly. Your heart flutters in your chest and you smile happily at Sam. Suddenly, the door swings open and you see your dad breath a large sigh of relief.

'Y/n I was worried half to death about you! Where'd you go last night? What happened?" he asks, flustered. You open your mouth to apologize but before you can say anything you're cut off by Sam.

"It was my fault, sir. We lost track of time and I didn't think it was safe for her to walk home so late at night, so I suggested she sleep at my place." You notice your dad visibly relax.

"Oh alright then. Where exactly did you sleep if I might ask," he questions. You glance nervously at Sam, hoping he doesn't tell your dad the truth.

"Y/n slept in my bed and I slept on the couch downstairs," he replies without hesitation. You silently remind yourself to thank him later, thankful that Sam remembered how strict your dad is when it comes to you being with other boys.

"Alright Sam, thank you," your dad says before returning back inside and closing the door slightly behind him. You breathe a sigh of relief and turn back to face Sam.

"You're the best," you grin, "thanks for that." He smiles at the ground and nods.

"Of course," he replies, walking towards the porch steps, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you soon," you sigh, "oh Sam wait, your clothes!" you exclaim, suddenly remembering and looking down at yourself wearing Sam's baggy shirt and sweatpants. He turns and looks to you with a chuckle.

"Keep them. They look better on you anyway." You blush, and he notices.

"Bye Sam," you say as he gives you small wave and you head inside. You close the door behind you and quickly hurry to the window. You look through the blinds, expecting to see Sam turn right towards his aunt's house. Peering through the window, you grin widely to yourself as you watch him start to walk back to his own house instead.

Taglist: @aliensforleaders @kiszkaboi @greta-gvf @rogers-wristbands @strawberry-fieldsssss @littlegeekwonder @spngvf @goodoldfashionedqueen @mutantpanda54 @allons-ytomyworld @diggrycedric @sammysgirll @rogerinascigarette @thaliamessi @pazmonkey @yesmynameisbelle @a-queen-and-her-throne @grapesarepurple @cherrrywitch @edgeofdrkness @livcappolella @ohsososophisticatedd @lunautica13 @oddolive @daydreamqueenjaycee 💖

[austenpoppy]

A review of "The Wonderful Won-Won" chapter 4 (part 1 because I'm a fangirl)

@hillnerd I said I would do it after my exams to take the time to say all I wanted to say and so do justice to your work, so here I am ! I always keep my promises. But Tumblr would not let me reblog this particular chapter, that's why I had to do a separate post.

Edit : I have seen your post about your father. I send you my best regards and all the hugs. I know it is hard. Love you. I know it's not much but I hope it will cheer you up a bit.

So if you want to find the chapter I'm talking about, go see Hillnerd's blog or follow this link : https://m.fanfiction.net/u/666390/

I recommend you all the other fics written by Hillnerd, they're fantastic.

So... yeah, my reaction to your chapter when I read it for the first time...

OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! Oh mon Dieu !

I'm smiling, a huge grin on my face even if nobody can see it because I'm alone, in my student room, at 2am and I'm too lazy to revise. I'm squealing on my bed, my face is tear-strained because I cried, and I feel very emotional. I swear, my heart swelled at least twice its size !

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in fanfiction ever.

Let's go back in time to see what happened :

"The brain's tentacles were ripping him to shreds and reality was warping around him as an unsteady pulse echoed in his ears. Spiders the size of houses walked over him while their young devoured his limbs, leaving him unable to move. Powerful convulsions constricted his chest and air bellowed over his shredded lungs. All he could feel was pain, a tangible darkness, and the sensation of being drowned, but backwards?"

It feels so realistic. You got all the sensations of being in great pain yet being unable to move. I especially love "the unsteady beat in his ears". The spider anecdote makes me shudder. How awful !

"The only real thing he could think about, besides the pain, was her. What was her name again?"

Oh man, Hermione is on his mind and in his heart at all time, even in his darkest hour. She's the only thing that can take his mind off pain *eyes water*

The convulsions struck again and again. He longed to be able to lose himself in the darkness, but something kept tethering him to the unimaginable pain. He was drowning again, and his limbs were back, stiff as lead.

No no no my Ronnie is suffering so much he wants to black out, and what if the darkness meant death ? How come this is totally canon ? How come I enjoy this ?

If he could only say her name one time, maybe all of this would end? It almost seemed like an answer to a riddle. He just couldn't think what the riddle was or what the name was he should say. It was like trying to hold a fist full of sand, with each grain slipping through his fingers until he only had a few grains left.

Argh, my little Romione heart. Touché. He tries to hold on to her, the key to happiness, the light in the dark, the fire of comfort.

"How long was he—"

It's nothing really. A tiny sentence. But the fact that the person who said it was unable to finish it is just so perfect, so moving - as if the idea of Ron suffering was unthinkable. *eyes water again*

Why could he not control his body?

Oh god, I know this frustration. Your writing is so moving, you are able to convey so much feelings in the simplest sentences.

Ron did as he was told, even though the light was so bright he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A loud ringing tone pulsed in his ears, high and sharp.

I can feel exactly what he is speaking about.

"Can I… Can I touch him?" his Mum ask Pomfrey, sounding teary.

Aaaaaaaah you got me again. The hesitation in her voice when she probably wants nothing more, when she probably craves to touch him... That's it, my vision is blurry, I need to take a tissue (fortunately there's a box on my bedside table)

Ron tried to form a word, any word, to say to his mother, but as soon as he could so much as rasp a coughing fit took him. It rattled and tore through him unlike any cough he'd ever had before. Dark red blood exploded from his lungs and splattered the matron's apron. His lungs rattled as cough after cough shook his chest and tore through his throat.

I just felt a pain in my heart. A pang. It's so heartwrenching to see him suffer like this.

Ron had to concentrate, but was able to barely wiggle them and they felt whole enough.

Oh Ron, how can you make me laugh in a moment like this ?

He tried to wipe the back of his arm across his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move off the bed, lamely twitching at his side. A slimy trail of sputum and blood oozed out of his mouth, but Pomfrey wiped it away with a handkerchief.

All is in the details. I'm picturing Ron, unable to move, his eyes open and unfocus, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth that he can't even wipe and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT.

"We love you, sweet boy. We love you so much,"

Yes ! Give him love ! All the love ! I love you too Ron !

Ron began to panic as he tried again and again to make words. He couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he started to breathe hard.

Nooo he can't speak my poor little Ronnie he must be so afraid and nooo he has tears in his eyes, my heart felt another pang why are you so good at this ?! That's it, I need a pause because I am actually crying. I am sniffing in my bed, tears have rolled off my cheeks and dampered the mattress. Damn you !

Ron tried desperately to say yes, but all that came out what a strange sound similar to the ghoul that lived in his attic. He tried to nod his head but it wouldn't do what he said and just barely moved to the wrong direction. What was wrong with him? He was trapped. Trapped in his own body unable to say or do anything!

I just want to hug you so much Ron. I can't but I really, really want to. That's one of the worst things in the world, being conscious but not being able to do anything.

"You are alright. What you are experiencing is temporary. You will be able to speak later. Maybe in a few hours. This is not permanent. The part of your brain that forms speech is injured, but will be healed - probably by the time you wake up tomorrow. You will regain movement in your body as well, but that might take longer before it's completely healed. Do you understand, Ron?"

You are such a good healer Mrs Pomfrey. And you need a raise.

"The bleeding will continue on and off again the next few days."

How come people think that the Bezoar erased every consequence possible of the poison ? Ron did not spend so much time in the infirmary for nothing !

"Hermione was here?" Ron asked, trying to sit up as quickly as he could. Instead his head rose off the pillow a few centimeters and he weakly collapsed back onto the bed. He gave another attempt to sit up, but the Matron of the hospital wing made it impossible to succeed.

He seems so surprised it is awful but so sweet. The fact that he tried to sit up twice pulled at my heartstrings.

"Did Hermione seem upset?" Ron blurted before realizing it was Pomfrey he was asking.

God the sweetheart somebody helps me !

Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing for a few minutes, so it might take a bit for your memory to be back to normal.

HIS HEART STOPPED ! HE WAS NOT BREATHING ! OH MY FUCKING ALLMIGHTY GOD !

What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Who visited? Who poisoned me? Will I be ok? Was Hermione here? Where are everyone? Was Hermione upset? Is everyone else ok? Where's Harry? When can I leave? Will I be able to play quidditch? What potions do I have to take? Where is Hermione? Should there be all this blood? Are you sure this is normal? When will I be able to walk again? How am I going to the bathroom? Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk? When will I be able to sit up on my own? Why can't I use my hands? Do I still have to do my homework? Can't I drink more water than that? When can I eat? Can Hermione visit me again?

Oh. My. God. My heart swelled. I am once again crying thank you very much my bed is now full of dirty tissues. But like, this list is one of the sweetest and most heartbreaking things ever. I need to squeal. So I put my phone aside and do just that (which means rolling in my bed, laughing and probably looking like a maniac). "Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk ?". How perfectly insecuringly Ron that is (yes I invent words and no I don't care) ? "Is everybody else okay ?" . Man you just got poisoned, you are in unberable pain and you still ask for everybody else ? You're just so... so caring and I love you ! "Can Hermione visit me again ?" God the sweetest of sweethearts 2.

He coughed and felt some blood beginning to make its way down his throat. 

Somebody do something ! My little Ronnie ! Bad, bad Draco !

How could one person look so perfect and make him feel magically better?

He's so in loooove. That's why I love Romione : the raw love and painful need for each other.

 Well, better besides the feeling that he was choking on blood and couldn't fight off a possessed scrambled egg if he had to.

How dare you make me laugh again ? A possessed scrambled egg *snorts loudly*... I'm laughing through my watery eyes...

...he couldn't help but smile.

That's my sweetest of sweethearts Ron 3. He is in pain yet he smiles because the person he loves most is there and he's my little sun.

Last thing he wanted was the sight of bloody teeth sending Hermione away.

*snorts again* *then feels her heart pang again because it's an horribly sad piece of humor*

Ron could vaguely recall reading something about a poisoning, so nodded, hoping that would leave him alone with Hermione.

*shakes her head and smiles* That's so Ron. He just wants to be with the people he cares about.

"You're really here," Ron smiled hopefully. He thought he'd never have Hermione to himself again. She was biting her lip with worry, but she was there. She was beautiful, though a bit paler than usual. Was she in the hospital wing because she was injured? "How are you feeling?"

FOR F*CKS'S SAKE ! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ! SH*T ! I NEED ANOTHER TISSUE ! AND I AM NOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE CHAPTER ! P*tain de b*rdel de m*rde ! It is so incredibly perfect and moving and Romione-y. The fact that Ron does not believe his eyes that she cares for him, that he smiles hopefully, that he thinks he would never be with her again, the fact that Hermione is biting her lip but does not say anything, and the selflessness of Ron who as usual does not think about himself at all but worries about his loved ones even though he just got poisoned...

"Better, now that you're awake."

My Romione heart swelled again.

Her hand gently made its way into his, sending a thrill through him like the first time he'd ever ridden a broom. He tried to squeeze it hard back, partly to ground himself that this was real, and partly to let her know something of how happy he was to see her, but all he could manage was a limp clammy hold. She didn't say anything to him, simply putting another hand on top of his one weak one.

I am at a loss for words. I am just so emotional. This image of them together is exactly why I love Romione so much. It is very poignant and moving.

"So… I kind of lied. I don't entirely remember what's been going on… I just wanted to see you," Ron said quietly.

At this point I just want to cherish this chapter forever and I definitely need another box of tissues, so I stand up and go search it. It's the "quietly" that actually killed me : picturing Ron, searching Hermione's eyes, whispering this to her is so sweet.

"Oh shit! Please don't leave. I'm so glad you're here. It's fine… I can catch up on this crap later."

He is so emotionally open I just... Hermione, cherish this boy.

He honestly didn't care if he sounded pathetic or desperate. She was the one thing he could hold on to when time was bending, and he wasn't sure of what was real and not.

My Romione heart does not thank you for the emotional roller-coster.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

Aaaah Hermione you pulled at my heartstrings. No, not you too ! I have enough heart pangs with Ron thanks !

"Sorry I'm so stupid right now. I just can't seem to keep a hold of things in my mind for long."

There self-depreciating Ron goes again... Like, am I hallucinating, or is he actually apologizing for not being well after having been poisoned ?? #Rontheboywhoapologizesforeverything

"You're far from stupid," Hermione said with her trademark scowl, and he grinned at that. "You were nearly killed. You had anoxia, where your brain didn't get enough oxygen. It's literal brain damage."

Yes, Hermione ! Tell him he's great ! Prevent him from being self-depreciating ! I love it so much when people let their appreciation of him shine through ! And she's so cute when she gets so anxious and worried that she has to ramble about facts, explain things and expose her knowledge !

He almost laughed at being brain damaged, but tears began to pool in her eyes.

Again so perfectly Romione-y. Ron sees the funny side of things, or the sadly funny side of things when he gets self-depreciating, and Hermione cries because she saw all the implications.

If it weren't for magic you might not be able to remember anything ever again, or talk, or move, and could have been mentally infirm the rest of your life. It wouldn't have been temporary. You'd not be yourself and I just — I just can't stand the thought that-that someone as alive and as - as wonderful as you could ever be struck down and unable to be yourself and I was so so afraid I was going to lose you and the last things I ever said to you were-were horrible, and I just —"

Oh my Romione. And my eyes are watering again. She's so devastated at the idea of a tetraplegic or diminished Ron, and I am too, that's the wrongest thing ever in fanfiction; and she's using the world "alive" to describe Ron and that fits him so well, and she feels so guilty that's awful even if it pleases me a little (I hate it so much when in fanfiction Hermione "accepts" to forgive Ron for Lavender. 😒)

"Oh, Hermione, don't—" he said while weakly raising his arms as high as he could so she'd come into them. 

My HEART ! YOU STABBED ME ! I NEED A F*CKING TISSUE AGAIN HE'S SO CARING AND SWEET !

~ Squealing time interruption ~

Hermione needed facts and figures to comfort her. "Hey, according to this parchment, I'm going to be ok, right?"

He knows exactly what to say to makes her feel better and that's instinctive. That's my Ron and I love him.

She gave a great wet sniff and nodded, though she looked even paler than before.

They're so terribly cute together. Hug her Ron, my girl needs it badly !

He'd have to humiliate himself a bit to get her to laugh, but it would be worth it.

So you are once again going to be very self-sacrificing, okay Ron, but what are you talking about ? How could you...

"And apparently there are some spells in place, so we don't have to worry I'll wet myself in the bed, even though I'm so mentally infirm," he said with a conspiratorial grin.

*jaw drops, eyes water (my fucking god I really am a mess and I look like I just had a heartbreak but okay), heart swells with enough Ron-love to fill a swimming pool*

~ squealing time interruption ~

Okay, I'm extremely moved and that's for a very personal reason. I have had 16 general anaesthesias in my life, yet I have always refused, even when I was seven, to use bedpans to... you know, because I am so proud; I hate admitting weakness and that felt so degrading, even if it's totally normal; so for Ron to humiliate himself like that just to make Hermione laugh is quite extraordinary and extremely selfless. I would never have done that.

End of part 1

[artificialqueens]

Something About Aquaria Ch. 5

Shits getting angsty, Trigger warning for descriptions of gore~ Eliptic

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, OK Cracker just breathe’ Max was pacing rapidly in his hotel room, practically burning a hole in the carpet. ‘This is normal, you should have been expecting this, and why wouldn’t he be curious? Just breathe it’ll be fine.’ sighed heavily throwing himself onto the bed.

“Who am I fucking kidding, when has that ever worked?” he said blurring to the window.

Aquaria’s POV

Giovanni’s head was pounding as he reluctantly sat up at the blaring sound of his alarm, he slammed his hand on the snooze button, wincing as he felt the plastic cut into his palm. “Holy shit.” He whispered looking between the crushed clock and his bleeding hand.  

He whipped his head around at the sound of one of the many locks unlocking. In a panic Giovanni pushed over the side table, “Don’t come in I'm… naked.” He shouted quickly as the door started to open, nursing his injured palm.

“Okay?” Sam said confused  “Well soups on so come down… preferably when you have clothes on.”

“I will.” Giovanni said as the door shut fully. He gave out a sigh of relief. Going into the tiny bathroom he ran his hand under water clearing away in the blood to assess the damage. To his surprise the small cuts that covered his hand were slowly healing. “Cool.” He whispered.

‘Max!’ he thought suddenly, he quickly threw on some clothes and rushed down to the dining room, searching for the shorter vampire.

“Cracker doesn’t eat, she’s on the bus with Vixen and Blair.” Giovanni nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Dane’s voice. “Sorry.” He apologized smiling shyly.

“I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf.” Giovanni teased.

“Kameron Michaels,” he said dramatically “Cause of death too many dog puns.” They both laughed. “You should grab something before you go.”

“I’m actually not hungry.” He said letting it sink in “At least not for food.” He swallowed heavily looking down.

Dane pulled Giovanni in a tight hug “Four years ago I was where you are now… only with more fur. It was terrifying, still is sometimes, but I got through it. And so will you.”

Giovanni smiled trying to will away the tears stinging his eyes. “Thanks Kam. I should go check on Cracker.”

“She seemed fine when I saw her this morning. Did something happen?”

“I’m not really sure what happened. His eyes…” Giovanni bit his lip, turning on his heel and quickly walked to the bus, he climbed on immediately spotting Vixen and Blair snuggled together, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, but no Max. As silently as possible he made his way to the back of the bus, finding Max curled up sleeping in the last seat. Smiling Giovanni gently lifted Max and squeezed in next to him, putting Max’s head in his lap. He checked him over, stopping when he spotted two small marks on his forearm, slowly Giovanni lifted Max’s arm to examine the scars, they looked like bug bites. Giovanni unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth, he froze.

‘I made those. I bit him.’ He panicked ‘Is that why he freaked out? Is that normal? What am I saying none of this is normal!’ Giovanni started breathing heavily.

“Aqua?” Kevin’s voice broke through his panic, it caused him to jump making Max to stir in his lap. “What’s wrong?” Giovanni gestured to the tiny scars on Max’s arm. “Oh, don’t worry they’ll be gone in a few hours.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“You didn’t, the opposite actually,” Kevin winked “So what would you prefer, a ring or a necklace?”

“Are you asking me to go steady with you?” Giovanni asked, relaxing.

“You wish bitch.” Kevin chuckled “Eventually the suns gonna become a problem. I need to enchant something that you can wear so you don’t combust.” He explained. Giovanni’s face went pale. “You two didn’t get to that chapter yet.” Kevin said slowly “Sorry.”

“Max doesn’t wear anything, so I didn’t think it was a thing.”

“That’s because, despite a song saying otherwise, Bob is a show off. He enchanted some ink and gave him a tattoo. I’m not quite on that level…yet, but you don’t strike me a tattoo girl anyway.”

“I have a necklace that my mom gave me. Would that work?” he asked taking off the simple chain.

“Yeah, this’ll do just fine.”

A grumble came from Max as he dug his head into Giovanni’s stomach. “Five more minutes.” Kevin smirked leaning over to flick him on the back of his head. “I hate you.” Max flipped him off stretching as he sat up. “Oh,” a brief look of panic flashed in his eyes “Hi Aquaria, I hope I didn’t drool on you.”

“It’s fine,” Giovanni laughed “I’m glad you’re okay…you are okay right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kevin and Giovanni looked at Max confused “Well last night you-“ Giovanni was cut off by the other queens getting on board. Max turned away putting headphones on at full volume. Kevin gestured for Giovanni to join him in his seat.

“What happened last night?” he whispered. “Cracker came to my room this morning talking a million miles a minute then left now she’s acting weird .”

“Is it because I… bit him?��

“You’re still a fledging, any venom you have would have just been a slight buzz, not enough to cause a head rush like a full vamp would.”

Giovanni thought for a moment “He told me how he became a… you know.”

Kevin’s face dropped, he glanced back at Max who was lip-syncing his part. “That’s sore subject with him.”

“I didn’t mean to-“

“You have the right to be curious, he didn’t have to tell you but he did cause he trusts you. He didn’t tell you everything though did he?”

“I don’t know. I thought he did.”

“We’ll talk later, now get your skinny ass up with Asia she’s staring daggers into me and I can’t tell if she’s joking anymore.”

Cracker’s POV

Max could still hear Kevin and Giovanni despite the music blaring in his ears.

“-He didn’t tell you everything though did he?” Max went stiff, pausing the music and glaring at the back of Kevin’s head

“I don’t know. I thought he did.”

“We’ll talk later, now get your skinny ass up with Asia she’s staring daggers into me and I can’t tell if she’s joking anymore.”

Giovanni joined the rest of his team and Kevin slid in next to Max, who hit play on the music pretending that he hadn’t been listening in. Kevin rolled his eyes, taking one of Max’s hand in his own squeezing it comfortingly.

September 5th 2009

‘Ow’ Max thought as his brain sluggishly regained consciousness. ‘How much did I have to drink last night.’ His throat was so dry he couldn’t talk, he opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the brightness of his room, immediately he closed them again. ‘Must of left the curtains open.’ He tried to sit up but his muscles ached and refused to move more than a couple inches.

“Isn’t it normal for Cracker to go on these creative binges where she goes AWOL for a bit them comes back with some badass creation.” He heard Kevin’s voice coming from the living room.

“Yeah, but normally Katelyn’s here to make sure he eats and sleeps, and she will kill us if she comes home to a neglected Cracker.” Chris responded “I’ll check the bedroom, you order takeout.”

Max attempted to sit up again but his body screamed at him, heavy footsteps came down the hallway, opening his bedroom.

“Max!” Chris yelled, suddenly Max felt warm hands on his shoulders making him realized how cold he was. “Max!” he yelled again shaking him. Max felt a quiet whimper leave his throat.

“Chris what- Oh my god!” Kevin screamed. “Is he?”

“Not quite. Stay with him while I call Jamin.”

“Why are you calling Betty and not an ambulance?”

“Because this isn’t something humans can fix. Look at his arms and neck.” Chris sounded angry in way Max had never heard before.

‘Hold on… humans?’ Max thought as he felt Kevin’s pull him close, the heat from the others body was suffocating but not in a way that made him uncomfortable, it was actually soothing, ‘How did I not notice how cold it was in here.’

“Ed?” Kevin said coldly.

‘What does my ex have to do with this? What even is this? Why does everything hurt?’

“When I find that son a bitch-“ Kevin started

“Let’s focus on Max right now.” Chris interrupted.

Max heard a weird whooshing noise and felt wind on his face.

“Let me see him.” Jamin said worriedly.

‘How did Betty get here so fast?’

Kevin reluctantly pulled away taking his warmth with him, Max felt his body twitch in an attempt to get it back. He mentally recoiled from the icy hands that seemed to study him.

“I’d say he a about a week into the transition.” Jamin said.

“He’s only been AWOL for a few days, how is that possible?” Kevin asked.

“We’ve only heard from him through text.” Chris said sniffling. “Is there anything you can do?”

“I can give him a pick me up but the rest is up to him.” Jamin sighed.

“Do it.”

The room went silent, then filled with a smell that made his stomach growl loudly, ‘Fuck I’m starving.’ He felt a cold hand open his mouth and a warm, gooey, delicious liquid flowed into it. He heard another growl, but this time it didn’t sound human, his arms moved quickly despite the pain to grip tightly around Jamin’s arm, gulping down the heavenly substance. The pain gradually ebbed away and the need to keep drinking subsided, reluctantly he detached his mouth, he slowly blinked as his vision focused to see Jamin looking at him worriedly and Kevin who was sobbing quietly into Chris’s side, Chris also had tears streaming down his face as he rubbed circles into Kevin’s back.

“Max?” Jamin spoke slowly bringing his attention back to him.

“What?” Max said in croaky voice, feeling spit run down his chin he whipped it with back of a shaky hand, pulling it back to see red, red that also covered Jamin’s arm and the sheets. His eyes started feeling heavy and his head was spinning “B-“ next thing he knew he was submerged in darkness again.

Max groaned pulling his blanket closer to him as he desperately tried to fall back to sleep. He heard muffled talking from the other room, he sat up examining his surroundings. He was in his bed. ‘Weird fucking dr-‘ Max’s thought was cut off as he spotted red staining his light blue bed sheets.

“Chris!” he yelled, his voice coming out louder than he had expected it to. The door flew open and Chris, followed by Kevin and Jamin, rushed in. “It…it wasn’t a dream.” He said softly. Chris quickly got on the bed, pulling Max into the tightest hug he’d ever experienced.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop this, but I promise you it’s going to be okay.” The taller said stroking his hair.

“What the hell is going on?”

An hour later Max sat on his bed, wrapped up in his blanket, a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Chris entered carrying a cup of tea “Max.” he said softly.

“What do you want me to say?” Max said sharply “This is a lot to take in. Vampires, magic, all of this isn’t supposed to be real. And now I'm…I don’t even know what I am.”

“You are the exact same person you were a week ago.”

“No I’m not! Look me in the eye and tell me that everything can go back to normal.”

Chris was silent.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Max sobbed.

“Don’t say that.” Chris said holding back tears “You’re right everything is changing but you, who you are, the hilarious, creative, kind person that is Maxwell Heller, that doesn’t have to change. You’re still you just as a vampire.”

“I don’t want this.” Max said darkly.

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

“Okay,” Chris whispered sadly.

November 2nd 2009

Kevin groaned as his phone rang beside him “What Bob?” he mumbled sleepily

“Max isn’t answering his phone.”

Kevin’s stomach dropped “He still has a few more weeks.”

“The transition period isn’t exact, Kev I can’t go there by myself…if he is…” Chris broke off with a sob.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” Kevin said trying to keep his cool.

Two swirling portals opened up in the tiny apartment. Chris and Kevin shaking as they peered around the empty living room.

“Max?” Kevin shouted. There was a loud thump from the small dark hallway. “Max?” Kevin said going closer, freezing looking at the floor, Chris followed his gaze to the red staining the gray carpet. They followed the trail to the bathroom. They gasped in unison at the sight of a blood soaked Max slumped against the bathtub. “Max!” Kevin cried crouching in front of him, he paused looking at the blood that had smeared on his had from Max’s chest it was bright red and cold. Chris leaned forward looking to the tub, that was filled with bloodied plastic bags. Blood bags.

Max suddenly gasped, seizing up, he eyes were bloodshot, the veins under them prominent, his red stained canines extended, his nails sharpened to a point that tore through Kevin’s hoodie as his body shook violently.

“Max! Hey, hey, hey it’s me, it Kevin.” He said cupping Max’s face as the shaking calmed and Max’s eyes slowly returned to normal.

“What happened?”

“I…I heard something so I went to check it out, but when I got to the hallway there was  blood on the floor and I…I…I don’t remember.” Max held up his bloodied hands “Oh God what did I do?” he panicked.

Chris picked up one of the blood bags from the tub, ran it under water in the sink.

Didn’t know your favorite, so I got them all. Love Ed

Was written in sharpie on the bag.

[greenappleeyes]

Is Love Enough (part 5)

Words: 2k

Summary: You finally learn what it is that Crowley wants.

A/N: Master tag list is at the end; sorry for the ones that aren’t working. If you’d like to be added, let me know.

—————

You had been staying in a lavish bedroom for a few days. Crowley would keep you company unless you wanted to be alone. You weren’t sure where you were, he claimed it was safer that way. “Crowley, I really appreciate you helping me out. I do. But I need to get a hold of Sam and Dean. Something is wrong with Cas and…” you trailed off, worrying about the boys. “What is he goes after them? We need to find out what happened and help him.”

He smiled softly at you. “Love, sit down. I’m sure they’re fine. I don’t know if there is any fixing for the angel, he’s simply wired to hate what you’ve got growing inside you. But don’t you worry, I will keep both of you safe from him.”

“Crowley listen,” you said firmly while walking toward the door. “I’m not staying here without knowing for sure that everyone is ok. Hell, they don’t even know where I am or if I’m alive. I’ve got to let them know I’m ok.” You started to open the door only to have it slammed back shut.

“I tried to be civil, Y/N. I tried to make this easy for you. But you had to be just a stubborn as those bloody Winchesters, didn’t you?” He was irritated, but calm.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Why did you save me… again? What’s your angle?”

He smiled and walked toward you. “I told you already, I’ve become rather fond of you. You could go as far as saying that I desire you.” He lightly grasped your jaw, turning you to look at him. “And I’m the king. I get what I desire, you understand?”

He leaned down to try to kiss you, but you wrenched away from him before he could make contact. “What the fuck, Crowley?! You’re going to let me the hell out of here, now!”

“Or what?” he questioned playfully. “What will you do? No one knows you’re here, Love, and you’re in no condition to try and fight me.” He reached down and ghosted his fingertips over your belly.

You shuddered at him touching you. “What do you want?”

He gingerly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Isn’t it obvious? Every king needs a queen… and, I suppose a princess. You can stay with me and we will raise OUR daughter together.”

You pushed his hand away from you again and grimaced. “That’s never going to fucking happen. I don’t know what you did to Cas, but it will wear off and he will come find me. When he does? He’s going to tear you apart.”

He jaw tensed and his eyes glowed red. “I’ve tried to be nice here. You have two choices: either you stay here with me as I suggested; or I tear the little brat out of you and watch you bleed. Either way, that powerful little half-breed inside you will be mine.”

You trembled slightly, but tried to show no fear. “It’s all about power with you, isn’t it? I’m not going to let you use her like that.”

His eyes returned to normal and his tone calmed. “Well, you’ll just have to stick around to make sure that doesn’t happen, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw tightly. You had no idea how you were going to get out of here. He was completely right, no one knew where you were and you wouldn’t ever be able to fight your way out under the best circumstances, let alone when you were heavily pregnant. “God dammit. How can I trust that you won’t decide to hurt us?”

“Hurt you?!” he laughed out. “I just told you how I desired you and wanted you to be my queen. Why would I ever want to hurt you? Unless you tried to cross me, that is. I promise you, that as long as you behave, you have nothing to worry about. And I keep my promises.”

Your shoulders sagged. You knew you really didn’t have a choice at the moment. “Fine. I’ll stay.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Perfect!” he said excitedly. “I knew you were a smart girl. Now, pet, you won’t have a lot of freedom until I can trust you. It may take a while, but once you prove your loyalty you’ll be free to do almost anything you please.” You cringed at the words ‘prove your loyalty,’ wondering what he could mean by it.

He returned his hand to your belly and rubbed it in the same way that Castiel would have. “Now, you better get some rest. I don’t want my girls to be too stressed out. Daddy has some business to attend to. If you need anything, there will always be someone posted outside your door. You need only ask.” —————

It had been a month since you were imprisoned by Crowley and you missed Castiel deeply. Crowley made sure you were well taken care of, but you were still miserable. You sat next to him in his throne room as he dealt with meeting after boring meeting. You hated the fact that being surrounded by your captor and his demons was still better than being alone in your room.

“Everyone out!” Crowley shouted, interrupting the demon yammering on about soul numbers. The demons filed out quickly and you stood to leave as well. “Not you, Darling. What’s wrong, you seem troubled. Well, more so than usual.”

You weren’t sure whether or not to give a real answer. You didn’t want to anger him. “I'm… I’m fine, Crowley. Just tired.”

He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him. “If I wanted bullshit, yes-man answers, I would have asked one of those useless morons that were just in here.” He let go of your face and his expression softened. “What’s bothering you? I truly do want to make you happy here.”

Your bottom lip trembled. “I miss… Cas. And Sam and Dean. They’re my family. I know they’re worried about me and I just want to see them. Let them know I’m ok.”

“I really don’t know what you saw in that winged rat.” He placed his hand on your thigh, earring no reaction from you. It had become a common enough occurrence that you stopped wincing every time he did it. “You know, I have ways to help you forget him.” He slid his hand up higher than usual, causing you to tense up. “Pleasant ways. Ways you’d enjoy.”

“No!” you said suddenly before regaining your composure. “I mean, not… yet. I think that should wait until after the baby is born.”

He moved his hand back down towards your knee. “Yes, of course.” This had not been his first advance on you and you were utterly shocked at how much of a gentleman he could be, when he wanted to. He was clearly interested in taking this “relationship” to a physical level, but vowed that he would never force you. He meant it when he told you he wanted you to be happy with him. “Then what can I do to improve your mood?”

You put your head back down and fiddled your fingers. “Nothing. Not unless you’ll let me see them.”

He sighed. “You know that’s a bad idea? What guarantee to I have that you won’t betray me?”

You looked back at him. “You’d just have to trust me, I guess. What…” you hesitated for a moment until you forced yourself to ask a question you really didn’t want the answer to. “What do I have to do to make you trust me?”

He smiled softly at you. “Sweetheart, relax. I’m never going to make you do what you’re worrying about. I want you to want that when you’re ready. You want to go see the Hardy boys? Fine, but I will be going with you. Or, rather, you’ll be going with me. Just one little piece of business to attend to” he said while rolling your sleeve up, revealing your anti-possession tattoo on your wrist. “then we can be on our way.”

You pulled your hand back to your chest. “You want to possess me?!”

“Of course. It’s the only way you can show them you’re fine and I don’t have to worry about you saying something you might regret. You let me hold the reigns this time, next time I’ll let you. As soon as we’re home, you’ll have your body back. Deal?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to respond.

At this point, what did you have to lose. “Ok. Deal.”

You held out your hand for him to shake only for him to chuckle at you. “You know better than that. Deals with demons aren’t sealed with a handshake.” He brought his hands up to cradle the sides of your face. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, letting out a small groan at the feeling. He lingered longer than he needed to, but the kiss itself would have been sweet under any other circumstances.

He pulled back with a smile on his face and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You weren’t sure if you were starting to develop Stockholm Syndrome but you thought he was acting rather sweet; for a demon that kidnapped you and your unborn child to be his family anyways.

You held out your arm to him and winced, expecting him to burn your tattoo off. “Relax. I’m going to make this as painless as possible for you. But it may sting.” He placed his palm over the tattoo and your skin became very hot. It was definitely uncomfortable, but not the searing pain you expected. When he lifted his palm, only slightly scarred skin remained.

He looked back into your eyes. “Ready?” You only responded with a nod.

Getting possessed by a demon is less than pleasant. The smoke being crammed down your throat burns in a way that you can feel in your soul. If feels foreign. It feels wrong.

Once Crowley had taken control of your body you could see through your eyes like normal but you couldn’t control anything. It was like watching a movie in first person perspective, but you had no way to look away from the screen.

He used your hand to pick up a phone. He dialed Dean, who answered promptly. Crowley explained with your voice, that you were ok and named a place to meet him and Sam only. Dean argued about bringing Castiel, but relented when Crowley used your fear as an excuse.

Even though you weren’t actually talking to him, you could head Deans voice. It was far more comforting that you imagined it would be. You were sad when the call ended; but happy you’d at least be able to see him and Sam soon. If only you could see Castiel too.

“Now now, Love.” Crowley spoke through you. “I can hear your sad little thoughts about Feathers. Don’t worry about him. Moose and Squirrel will let him down gently for you.”

You saw the world shift before you and you were suddenly in a dark parking lot outside an old building. He turned your head and you saw the Impala as he began walking you inside. You were equal parts nervous and excited to see the Winchesters, unsure if they’d be able to tell that it wasn’t really you talking to them. You just hoped they wouldn’t do anything stupid.

You sighed inside your mind. “Well, here we go.”

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