#their priority is to grab scar and get him somewhere safe

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part I

>> hhau masterpost here << [cw besides the usual mess and violence: animal death mention]

It’s been months since the latest hermit got saved, and over a year since Hermitcraft imploded. There’s only two people to go: Scar and Grian. And they can’t seem to locate them at all. But they can’t stop looking. They can’t, they won’t. 

The rescue party is comprised of X (voidwalker), Doc (creeper), Ren (wolf), Impulse (partially demon), Cub (vex), Gem (deer), and Pearl (moth). Thanks to X knowing how to navigate and survive the void, they are able to get a void vessel (a sort of ship) to base in as they go around scanning different worlds and scouring for information. 

Until they come across a world that reads as permadeath, and somewhere in the world files, X flags Grian’s and Scar’s name. Not as players; there’s no list available here. What comes up is the wanted poster. It doesn’t have a date stamp. It could be months old, and they know Scar's track record with dying.

Still, they have to try.

They search for a place that seems to have good resources and Cub, Gem, and Pearl get dropped down. They’re equipped with bracelets that they can activate to send X a signal to teleport them back, and two extra for Grian and Scar, if they do find them, but they have to gather any other kind of equipment, including armour and weapons, on their own.

They quickly realise comms don’t work on this world, and as the player list is also non-existent or corrupted, they are going in blind.

Well… almost.

They use Cub’s vex bond with Scar to pick a direction to head in.

--

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are not having a Good Time. 

Some awful things have happened prior to this, namely the ending of the Summer house arc. To quickly sum it up, Grian and Scar went up north, for as long as they could. Away, away, away from everyone. Until it felt like maybe they’re far away enough, and they tentatively set up a house. Which turned into a nest. Which turned into a semblance of permanence.

A lot of things went on here. Days turned into peaceful weeks and, tentatively, they started thinking that maybe they can start planning some kind of future here. They planted crops. Scar re-learned to glide with his torn wings. Grian unfurled his wings and re-learned the feeling of flying through the sky. And they found a bird friend! (A real, living bird in this world!)

The reality caught up to them eventually. 

Nobody’s really seen Scar or Grian for a while, but the avians in this world have dull wing patters, for survival reasons, and so Grian is really special. And the hunters don’t want to give that up. The reward on the wanted poster gets upped, and now the fever pitch to get this avian rises. The hunters go further. In bigger groups. Greedy and determined.

They find the nest house, empty at the time, and they burn it down. 

Scar and Grian come back to find it in flames, and to find themselves unsafe and hunted once again. All of a sudden, they have nothing again. The fire licks high, turning everything to ash, to a distant cheering and hollering of a party of hunters. There’s no sign of their bird friend.

(Grian finds him later. Dead, with wings cut off. The only creature that resembled him; the bird he befriended, the proof that a winged creature could exist here and survive. Ripped to pieces. Echoing the only fate that is bound to await Grian as well.) (It was a sun conure parrot, bright and beautiful.) 

The hunters are on their tail once they realise that Scar and Grian are here; that it wasn’t just some temporary base that’s now abandoned. With no remorse and still too much cheer, bloodthirsty and unstoppable, they go after them. 

Scar’s blood is absolutely boiling and he expects Grian to ground him. To talk him down. But Grian’s mind buzzes, looking at that bird, and— He’s as down to fight as Scar is. Because anger is easier than grief right now.

He’s so tired of grief. 

So instead, Grian goes angry and feral. (The other option is to fall apart, and he can’t.) 

They tear this particular hunting group apart, and it’s meant to make them feel better, but it doesn’t. It feels like a necessity; like just one more step towards survival. They loot what they can, and they continue moving, realising that stopping anywhere to do more than just survive is a moot point. They’re not going to outrun this. They'll never be allowed to stop. They’ll be hunted forever.

(Grian will be hunted forever—)

The word gets out, and more and more hunters arrive, wanting the trophy of violet wings and the wanted reward for themselves. It’s a sport to them. A way to get rich. Like a gold fever, they continue tracking Grian and Scar, relentlessly hounding them down.

There are times when things go worse in these encounters. Grian gets his wings grabbed and attacked, and it sends him spiraling back to never allowing anyone—including himself—to touch his feathers. (He was doing better and now it’s all gone.)

They internalise many horrible thoughts, during their run. It’s been a year-worth of culmination of awful events, a year worth of pain and fear and loss. 

For Scar, as a vex, he’s been expected to be a monster from the start. And all he wanted here was some peace. To be with Grian. He wasn’t allowed it, but now he finally got a glimpse at it—at what could’ve been; at who he wanted to be from the beginning (who he’s always been)—and it’s violently taken from him. So yeah, fuck it. If they want a monster, he’ll be a monster. 

(This leads him to thinking that he shouldn’t be trusted with soft things anymore, Grian’s feathers included, especially as Grian gets ground-bound again and starts pulling his wings tightly against his back and flinching at the mere implication of touch.) (It hurts to witness, after what Scar’s seen: Grian, freely gliding through the sky, violet feathers catching sunlight.) (He was allowed to preen them, tentatively, slowly, gradually, a couple of times.) (Not anymore. Not anymore.)

 Grian keeps thinking about the bird, and how they’re the same. He’s seen the brutal display, the way the wings were taken. He can’t quite stop thinking about it. 

But it’s more than that. He’s also thinking about [redacted]. About anything winged being doomed. About what happened with the vexes. It all spins and spins and spins until he can’t see himself as anything but harbinger of death.

The hunters wouldn’t care to go this far for one vex. They only go because of his goddamn feathers.

Naturally, this topples into him thinking that Scar will be safer and better off without him. They’ve been running on sleepless nights and exhaustion, trying to get away to no avail. They’re tired, and things are looking dire, and— Grian wants it to stop. He needs Scar to be taken out of this equation, separated from this fate. He needs him to be safe. (He can’t bring death to Scar.)

Grian can lead the hunters the other way. They only really care about him. ([redacted] already proved that point, after all.) 

So one night, Grian sneaks away.

He presses a soft kiss to Scar before he goes. (It’s a farewell kiss.) Scar is asleep, only kind of waking up to it—just that groggy, sleepy “mm?” Grian kisses his forehead again, oh so gently, and murmurs the quietest “Love you. Stay safe for me.” To Scar, it just feels like a dream, and he dozes off again, none the wiser.

The next morning, Scar wakes up to Grian gone.

For a while, he doesn’t even remember that hazy interaction from the night, but then he does remember, all of a sudden. An absolute vertigo slams into him, panic flooding his veins as he stares down the empty, quiet forest.

And this is when the Hermit Rescue Party finds him.

They only find Scar.

They only find Scar, and they instantly try to take him off world.

-- part II here

[stillm0nster]

Z, Y, X, R, Q, L, A - for Dohwan 😏

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ incoming ; smut headcanons !

Z - Zones: Favorite places they like to be touched? Are some less obvious than others? Any places they absolutely hate being touched?

dohwan loves it when his partner runs fingers though his hair or even when they grab / tug on it lightly during sex ( i don't know if that still applies to this question but still, it's an important information ). he likes being touched on the chest, his arms, his back ( back is 10/10, greek gods be like ). he likes it when his partner traces his jawline too. then about the places he absolutely hates being touched would be his ass ( he would rather touch the ass than have his ass touched, you know ... ) and for some reason, he really hates his ears to be touched.

Y - Yes: Do they have any specific turn ons? Things that will automatically make your muse say yes to sleeping with someone else. If not what are some other things that get them in a more romantic mood? Lighting? Dinner?

automatic turn ons aren't really a thing with him. it's always just about if he wants it or has the time for it ( man got eternity but still choses to uphold his fake human image ... priorities ) UNLESS it involves feeding and his partner's blood is irresistible. he would absolutely jump his partner though, if they purposefully try to make him jealous. now, he's not like human emotion jealous but more like this is my possession and i fuck them kind of vibe ... if that makes sense. now he's a classy man, so some wine and dine before a good fuck is guaranteed if he's really into his partner.

X - X Ray: What's going on under your muse's clothes? Do they have any special scars or places they like to be touched or avoided? Describe their physique and anything else you'd like to expand on.

under his clothes, there's only one scar that truly remained during the centuries and it's from a werewolf he fought with. it's around his left shoulderblade and it just reminds him of some very dark times and things he doesn't like to talk about. otherwise, he's got a very toned body. funny thing is, no exercises are ever required for him to look so damn good.

R - Risk: Are they into some risky kinks? (breath play, exhibitionism, blood play, etc.) If so what are their favorites? Do they practice them safely?

blood play is deifinitely a favorite in his books but it has been just one partner he practiced that with. it's not something to do with just anyone. he also likes impact play even though that's not exactly ... risky, now is it? sadism because yes. why practicing it safely though heh

Q - Quiet: Do they enjoy trying to see how long their partner can last without making a sound? Do they enjoy loud or quiet partners?

he doesn't like it when their partner is being silent or trying to supress their screams of pleasure. he's into his partner being loud 100%. let the world know just how good he makes you feel hmmm

L - Licking: Do they enjoy using their tongue on their partners or is it too gross? If so what are their favorite places to use their tongue?

dohwan loves to lick his partner's neck ( and nibble on it obviously ), their chest as well as giving oral. his tongue don't lie .....

A - Affection: How affectionate are they during sex? Is it different with people they're romantically involved with? Can they sleep with people they aren't?

it really depends how he feels about the partner he's with. he is either not very affectionate or somehwat affectionate. somewhere in-between honestly. it also really depends on the mood. if there's anger, there's no affection.

[discodrift]

Fanfic idea for lmk that is eating a hole in my head if i don’t put it SOMEWHERE so congrats Tumblr ur getting it for now (until i get the energy up to write a fic or something)

So MK is surely to have some scars from at least one of his fights. probably more than one if we’re being honest. I mean, he’s not invincible anymore and he’s been thrown through walls, surely something’s been cut. He doesn’t think anything of it at first, but then once someone expresses concern over the steadily growing amount, MK start... looking at them differently. 

They go from being just marks on his skins to signs of how he wasn’t weak enough to protect himself. So, he looks into way to hide them. After a few failed attempts with makeup, he eventually comes across something perfect for the job:

Glamour.

Once he’s got the hang of it, he uses it to cover up all of his scars, because what's the point of worrying his friends, right? It’s not a big deal after all, and what they don’t know won’t hurt them. 

(And when the scars go from being how he’s failed to protect himself to how he’s, in his mind failed Monkey King, then all the better that they are hidden. Surely if Wukong sees how injured MK gets from just low-level demons he’ll obviously regret ever having MK as a successor, so now he has to keep them hidden.) 

It gets harder once some of the scars get more obvious. A cut on his face leaves Pigsy wondering where the scar went when it finally healed, with MK stuttering out an excuse and ignoring the raised line slicing across his cheek. A burn scar on his hand stays safely covered, even if the sensitive skin itches with irritation when MK grabs bowls of soup just a little too warm for the mark, and he has to make up an excuse to go get some gloves. MK also has to take into account swk’s true sight, which would see through the glamour, and he has to rush to cover it when the Monkey King uses it. He finds himself growing tired too, the constant magic usage draining. 

It gets worse when Lady Bone demon steals his powers, and he barely is able to cover his face while wearing only long sleeve shirts and gloves, even in the desert to continue hiding the scars.

But then the finally of season 3 happens, and MK doesn’t even think about his scars and the glamour when he runs to help Mei, his friend taking priority over everything. But when Mei runs off and he turns to ask Monkey king and the others what to do next, all he is met with is horrified stares.

For a moment, he’s confused, until he looks down and realizes the samadhi fire burnt his glamour off competley, and coupled with the fact that both of his sleeves are ripped to shreds, all of his scars are on display.

And just like MK feared, Monkey King takes one look at them, at all the failures MK’s went through, and leaves him behind.

[catxsnow]

FIVE TIMES DICK GRAYSON HUGS

Request: How about ideas about hugs and cuddles from Dick? Fluff is an important part of a balanced fandom after all

Warning: fluff, mentions of sex but pg, mentions of blood

A/N: A little bit of a different layout but soft nonetheless 

Word Count: 2.2k

i) Dick Grayson in the mornings

Dick always has trouble getting up in the morning. He doesn't like the bright sunlight breaking through his blinds or the loud crashes of his neighbors from getting ready in the mornings. Sleep always calls for him the moment his alarm goes off and he despises the idea of actually having to get out of bed.

He finds himself grabbing at any excuse just to stay a few moments longer. Maybe a 'I showered last night I don't need to this morning' or 'I'll make coffee at home today so I don't have to wait in line'. Any little thing to be able to sleep in for just five more minutes.

It's even more impossible when you're staying with him. He finds himself turning off his alarm only to roll over and snuggle into you. Big arms wrapped around you, legs tangled. He's got the most ridiculous bedhead in the world but god is it adorable on him. Dick's still half asleep and he can't even bring himself to leave a kiss on your cheek.

More times than not he falls back asleep again. It's hard not to when the love of his life is asleep in his arms. However, he often gets in trouble too. Showing up late for work or getting an angry phone call from Bruce or the team that he's not there.

It's impossible to get him off of you too when he's sleepy. Dick becomes completely dead weight and half his body is always on top of yours. Waking him is just as hard. Once he's asleep somewhere he feels safe, he's not getting back up. Mumbles in his mornings voice, squeezing you tighter, he's completely adorable when he's trying to sleep.

“Just a couple more minutes baby.”

Dick likes to blame the reason he gets stuck in bed so often on you - but truth is that's all on him. He's always struggled to get up in the morning and after long nights of being a hero, it doesn't help.

ii) Dick Grayson coming home from a long day

It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing, if he's had a terrible day at work, he's swooping you up and carrying you to bed. He doesn't do that very often, only when he's on the verge of a breakdown. So, when he does pull a little stunt like that, you know that he's upset.

“I missed you today, my love.”

He pours his heart out during those times. Venting to you about his issues, his feelings, how frustrated he is that he can't change what's happened. It's heartbreaking to see him like this because he's trying so hard to keep himself together when he's clearly breaking at the seams.

Dick doesn't want you to see him when he's vulnerable and weak like this. He's always supposed to be the strong one. He's supposed to be the one who always knows what to do, who's always going to have a plan. Truth was, he couldn't be that person - at least not all the time. On the days that he couldn't, he looked to you for answers.

He'd find himself wanting you to encase him completely. Dick's safe in your arms, no matter the situation. He knows that this is the time that he can truly break down and you'll always accept him. There's nothing that he ever needs to worry about when he's with you.

Blankets mountain over you both. Dick's got his head on your chest, sometimes your stomach when he's curled up even more than usual. When he's in his bad moods, it's like he needs to hear your heart to remind him that he too is human. He can only handle so much before he snaps. His arms are tight around you, keep you so close that sometimes it's hard to breathe.

In those moments it feels like his hold on you is the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing that's keeping him grounded to earth. Dick has his times where no words can fix his issues, but your actions can. A simple hug, kiss, hand rubbing his back that reminds him that not everything in this world is out to get him.

It's those times that you know to be extra loving with him. Tell him how much you love him, how you adore what he does for this world, how important he is in your life.

iii) Dick Grayson after a night of patrol

Every night, the only thing he has to look forward to is coming back home to you. No matter how many times he gets beaten down, he knows he has to get back up to get home to you. Dick knows you're waiting for him, worried out of your mind as whether or not he'll make it back alive.

So, when he gets back, stripped of his suit and a shower that washes away his dirt and grime of the night, he finally makes his way into bed with you. His body aches from the hits he got, even when he's in the warmth of your bed. He's exhausted by the time he gets home to you, and it's a struggle to even clean himself up.

No matter how tired he is, how sore he is, he always pulls you into his chest to give you a kiss. It's his way of telling you that he's made it home safe, even if he's barely hanging on some days. It's a silent 'I love you' when he can't get the energy to say it out loud.

When he holds you close at night, it's his only way of being able to fall asleep. He doesn't think about the horrors he's seen at night when he's with you, he doesn't think about how much trauma he's been through. All Dick can think about is you, everything that there is about you.

“I’m glad you’re safe and back with me, Dick.” 

“I’ll always come home to you.”

His nightmares don't plague him. He doesn't wake up randomly throughout the night. Being with you lets him be in peace.

When he cuddles you at that point in his day, he envelopes you completely. His arms are tightly wrapped around you so you're flush against his body. Dick nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck and his legs are perfectly lined up behind yours. He's found himself reliant on you to be able to fall asleep.

In the winter, when it gets cold out, Dick just absorbs your body heat. He craves it when he's out as Nightwing. The cold winds bite at his skin and he's consumed with the memory of your body warmth. He hates feeling cold when he knows that he could easily quit early and come back to you.

On some lucky nights - or maybe unlucky if you look at it - when his body is really sore, you'll offer up a massage. Dick can never say no. You'll find yourself sitting on his butt as he lays on his stomach. Scars and wounds lacing the skin on his back and his tense muscle aching for your touch.

Dick falls asleep like that all the time, no matter what. You could be telling him about your day or even he'll be telling you about his and he'll fall asleep mid-sentence. He wakes up refreshed every time you offer to do it for him, and more times than not he'll always find a way to repay you back.

iv) Dick Grayson on rainy days.

He loves having rainy days with you. Not necessarily rainy days - but the kind of days that he gets to be free of worry from the outside world and just focus on you. Hours upon hours that he gets to relax, often for the first time in months. Those days always seem like a blessing to him, especially when he gets to spend them with you.

Watching movies where he gets to cuddle you on the couch. The both of you laying on your sides. Dick's pressed against the back of the couch with his arms tightly around you so that you don't fall off the edge. He leaves annoying (adorable) little kisses at the back of your neck and a lot of the time tickles your sides.

Or you'll be in the kitchen, baking cookies or brownies, or whatever Dick wanted that day. He's always standing behind you, arms around you and chin resting on your shoulder. His eyes are glued to your movements, adoring how you can make something so mundane so beautiful at the same time.

On days that the rain is pouring outside, Dick will drag you outside - whether it be a balcony, a rooftop, to just the streets. He's got you out in the freezing cold where the rain is soaking your clothes and your clinging onto him for any remnants of body heat.

Dick wants to give you that cheesy, cliche, kiss in the rain. He wants to hold you, to kiss you, to tell the whole world how grand his love is for you. Hands cupping your cheeks, lips molding perfectly to yours. He can feel the drops of rain slipping between you, but it's never enough to get him to pull away. The cold ignites through his body but the warmth of your kiss, your touch, everything there is to you is enough to pull you back in for more.

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

Dick spends the rest of the day clinging to you - or more so the other way around. It's his fault that you're frozen to the core and he's going to be the one to fix it. He doesn't mind, not when it gives him the opportunity to just be closer with you.

v) Dick Grayson after sex

He can't get enough of you. Dick Grayson can never find a way to express his love completely. No words, no action, nothing in this world would ever be enough to show how vast his love is. Out of breath, sweat covering his skin, he'd still pull you in for more kisses, more time to show you that he loved you.

Sometimes Dick would have an arm tucked behind his head, the other stroking back and forth along your back. He loves post-sex cuddles with you. He's still on a high with you, absorbing your activities with a smile on his face.

His entire focus is on you. Kissing you, loving you. He's checking to make sure that he didn't hurt you in any way. Dick Grayson becomes the most caring person towards you - more than his usual self. His sole priority is making sure that you feel loved, safe, and happy.

Laying on your sides, facing each other and just talking about anything and everything are his favourite moments. He can't keep his hands off you - in a non-sexual way. Cupping your cheek, drawing into your arm, watching the goosebumps roll against his skin as the cold starts to fill you both.

A smile never leaves his cheeks. Not for a second. How could he when his entire view is focused on you? He's sneaking in for a kiss at every chance he gets - and when he's not his hands are on you. They're playing with your fingers as you talk or brush against your body.

“How did I get so lucky with you?” 

Cuddles with him after sex always seem more intimate than the moment itself. He gets the opportunity to talk about his heart's desires or his fears. He feels like it's his prime moment to be able to express anything that he's been feeling because it's when you're most willing to open up too.

It's a time of reflection. For some reason, these conversations always come up after your most intimate moments. It's the concept of growing together, not separately or apart. His future is you, it's always been you, and he's making sure that you both want it to stay that way.

Bonus: Surprise Hug

Getting home early from a mission or managing to sneak away to see you even just for couple minutes, he loves to surprise you with a hug from behind. You’ve learned by now how his body molds to yours, the calming scent of his cologne as he gets close to you - it’s never a worry who’s hugging you because you know his touch by heart. 

He loves to hear the joy in your voice when he shows up. The excitement that you get just for making the effort to show up for even a few minutes in the middle of the day or a couple hours early getting home. There’s nothing better than the warmth that spreads in his heart because of you. 

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[zevexsii]

naib subedar sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

cut for length and nsfw content !

sfw 

another difficult person to enter a relationship with. naib has lost too much to feel comfortable getting close to someone he knows isn’t going to stay close- you’re in it for the long run. 

in matches, you’re naib’s first priority (when you’ve been assigned to a team together, of course). the second naib notices you’ve been chaired, he’s headed your way as fast as he can. typically, he’d like you to stick together so he can keep a safe eye on you, but naib’s not too pressed if you two split of your own volition. 

there’s an incredibly low chance of being injured during a match with naib. if you’re wounded at the end, it’ll be small scratches or a bruise here and there. regardless of how small or shallow any of your scratches may be, naib is cleaning and bandaging them up, scolding you for being so reckless the entire time. 

he’s another big eater! devours anything you make and is more than happy to show you how to cook nepalese food. cook for him and let him curl up and rest his head on your shoulder afterward and he’ll be tempted to marry you on the spot

loud noises overwhelm naib extremely easily. crowds also make him edgy and anxious. when naib’s panicky, he gets annoyed and will probably snap at you- he would do best with a relatively calm s/o who’s able to keep their head in stressful situations. 

if you’re looking for ways to calm him down, don’t go to overwhelming physical affection right off the bat. someone trying to wrap their arms around him will be seen as a threat to naib’s safety and would only trigger his ptsd even more. instead, grab one of his hands and try to help him regulate his breathing. remind him that he’s safe with you, that there’s nothing to worry about. when naib needs physical comfort, he’ll seek you out. this tactic goes for calming him down after nightmares, too.

the most comforting position for naib is allowing him to sit on your lap and bury his head in your chest- he’s caught between the urge to hide from everything and the urge to protect you. like this, he’s got a solid rock of refuge and it feels like he’s shielding you from any perceived danger. 

undo his strict ponytail and massage naib’s scalp and he’ll be passed out in a heartbeat, snoring softly, his grip on your clothes tight as ever. 

on naib’s bad days, he’s practically glued to your hip. he’s terrified something horrible’s going to happen to you- like the things that happened to his fellow soldiers or even worse, the things he’s done and (seen done) to other people during his time as a hired mercenary. it’s scary, who can blame him? 

wouldn’t mind too much if his partner was into pda, but would feel uncomfortable reciprocating the vast majority of it. naib’s still trying to unlearn the “vulnerability is bad” mindset. he’s been surrounded by that idea his entire adult life, so give him time. this has been touched on before, but hand-holding makes naib soft!! whether you’re enjoying a mellow walk through the manor gardens or lingering in the lobby post-match, one of naib’s calloused hands will find a way to intertwine with yours. 

making naib blush is difficult. very few things can force their way into the chinks in his stoic armor, but soft kisses pressed to his cheek are guaranteed to send an intense flush to his face

if you’re too shy or uncomfortable with pda, you can bet naib’s doing everything he can to fluster you in a safer setting. you’re doing dishes? surprise smooch! indulging in some much-needed downtime? smooch! if naib’s feeling cocky and the time is right, he’ll land his lips somewhere on your face right after you’ve finished a calibration during a match

not too huge on nicknames!! your name is satisfying to say, and naib doesn’t think anything he could call you would fit any better. if you hear him mumble a sleepy “sweetheart” in the middle of a cuddle session while he tries to pull you closer, no you didn’t

naib’s idea of a perfect day ends in a steamy shower or relaxing bath with his s/o. nothing spicy, just soft moments with his love. once y’all are dried and done, throw on your pajamas or one of naib’s shirts (if you’re small enough- mans is 5’6”) and crawl into bed. naib tends to curl in on himself (think fetal position) if you aren’t there- a lot of times he ends up unintentionally becoming the little spoon. 

when naib wants to hold you close, his arms will snake around your waist and he’ll invite you to lay your head on his chest or burrow your face in his neck. when you wake up, it’ll most likely be to naib pestering you in the most loving way possible- ever the early riser, this one. 

nsfw

naib can’t really be pinned down to any specific top or bottom role (no pun intended). during the beginning of your intimate relationship with him, naib leans towards taking a dominant role. it’s indescribably difficult for naib to relinquish control over a non-intimate situation, so you can imagine leaning back and letting go would be even harder. 

gets incredibly handsy when he’s horny. won’t hesitate to seek you out, either. naib doesn’t see the point of masturbation if he has a partner, but he respects your boundaries if you’re not in the mood. 

going back to the surprise kissing bit earlier, when naib wants to let you know he wants to fuck, he’ll pin you up against the closest surface or loop his arms lazily around your shoulders (if you’re short enough) and smash his lips into yours a little rougher than usual- nibbling on your bottom lip right before pulling away. 

has a bit of a fixation on oral. favors receiving over giving slightly, but is still addicted to the way you taste. for masc readers, it’s literally impossible to gag him. to be entirely honest, you could facefuck him with very little resistance. naib wouldn’t hesitate to use you and he expects you to treat him the same way.

 tug on the sheets ever so slightly while he’s sucking your cock and naib will drag your hand to the top of his head, reminding you to pull his hair.

for fem readers, he’ll slowly spread apart your sopping pussy and the corner of his mouth will lift up in a pleased smirk, his rough hands buried in the plush of your thighs. if you attempt to rut your hips against him, naib’ll put an end to that right quick, pinning your hips to the bed, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. 

no matter what, naib’s covering every inch of your bottom half he can reach in hickeys and bruises, occasionally leaning back to admire his handiwork, leaving poor you all needy and aching, whimpering pitifully. 

he’ll look up at you underneath his dark brown eyelashes when you cum, feeling up your sides and pulling your hips closer to his face. the whines his actions pull from your throat will never cease to satisfy him. 

when naib has pleasured you to your mutual satisfaction, he’ll sit up and wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, intentionally smearing your fluids across his face, grinning hungrily as he stares down at you.

now, when you’re sucking naib off, things can get intense pretty damn fast. one moment you’re gently stroking his cock (decently sized too, a good 6-7 inches, average girth), and the next he’s got you by the hair, ramming his dick in your mouth. might accidentally cage you in with his thicc thighs- he’s lost in the feeling of your pretty lips around him, what can he say? gently tap him on the leg and he’ll loosen up a little bit. 

groans loud. louder than he does when he’s actually having sex (at least when he’s topping). the noises he makes are nothing short of animalistic; low growls and heavy moans, straight from his chest. you might have to stop him and remind him to relax. there’s much more to come (no pun intended), and it wouldn’t to well to have naib tire himself out now. his breath will hitch in his chest when you suddenly pull back, but he’ll give you a shaky nod when you tell him to calm down. 

really makes a show of undressing, unless he’s been super pent up lately or something happened to pull out jealous naib. naib isn’t as buff as one might expect; he’s more of the lean type, his strength concentrated in his shoulders and core muscles.

naib’s torso is littered with various scars, some deeper and more noticeable than others. he doesn’t like to admit it, but they’re definitely an insecurity of his. run your fingers over them, or press your lips to the most obvious one, and naib’s heart aches (in a good way, of course). it feels so tender, so soft, so warm to be accepted and wholly loved, regardless of any self-labeled flaws and mistakes. but, mr subedar needs more. 

so he stuffs himself inside of you, letting out a breathy groan at the sudden contact and throwing his head back in delight. when he’s sure that movement wouldn’t cause you too much discomfort, he’ll begin to sloppily thrust himself back and forth, panting heavily. he’s breathing too hard to let out a coherent sentence, egged on by your moans as he angles himself as deeply inside of you as possible. 

depending on how long foreplay lasted, naib can go anywhere from 2-4 rounds. he’s already quite sloppy and forceful, so you can imagine how he gets when he’s tired- sweat beads on his forehead and his chest heaves with every breath, each of his desperate thrusts deep enough to make you see stars. 

naib views cumming inside of you as more intimate, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, he’ll pull out and empty himself onto your stomach. if you have a uterus, he’ll do his best to pull out anyways- considering your current setting, neither of you can really afford a pregnancy scare. 

as mentioned above, naib is more of a top-leaning switch. he defaults to domming because it puts him in control, so you’d have to have a strong relationship with him already. 

if you want naib to sub, you’d have to initiate sex. naib values people who are outright with their intentions, so hold true to that. settle yourself on his lap, arms linked lazily around his shoulders, and press a few soft kisses to the side of naib’s neck. this is the point where he’ll tense up and either gently tell you he isn’t in the mood, or tug you closer. 

naib doesn’t mind where you take him, as long as it’s in a private space. probably has a thing for being fucked on furniture anyway. oral (for both parties) is fine in semi-public spaces- the risk gets naib off more than he’d like to admit- but penetration is reserved for you to witness, and you alone. 

pay special attention to the sensitive spots on naib’s neck and he’ll turn into a whining mess under your touch. grind down on his lap as you gently undo his low ponytail- grab a fistful of his soft hair near the nape of his neck and watch him turn to mush.

in any situation (domming or subbing) naib’s particular to the missionary position. it gives him a perfect view of his s/o at all times.

prep him thoroughly if you want to fuck him in the ass or peg him. he has very limited experience with being penetrated, so no matter how many times naib roughly groans for you to “hurry up and fuck him already”, make sure he’s lubed up and ready to go.

gasps so loud?? when you push your cock or a strap-on inside of him, his entire body goes rigid for a second, and his eyes roll back in his head. it’s delightful. let him shift around for a moment- he’s still getting used to the hot, full feeling that’s overwhelming his senses. naib will grunt out when he’s ready for you to move.

 naib tries to give you what he’d want from a partner; hard, sloppy thrusts with no particular rhythm that leave you aching for more. in barely any time at all, naib is squirming underneath you, choking out requests for “more” and “harder” between half-baked curses that die on his lips. when he cums for the last time, you can see all of the tension leave his shoulders and his final yelp of ecstasy fades into a content sigh.

as far as aftercare goes, naib prefers showering with you over taking a bath. it’s quicker and more convenient, and at this point, naib is puckered out. he just wants to crawl into bed with his s/o. 

falls asleep real quick! it’s lights out as soon as naib’s head hits the pillow and he’s sure you’re in his arms or vice versa. 

gosh i love myself one (1) mercenary 

[heyitssmiller]

Clandestine: Chapter Ten

This, uh... this gets dark, y’all. You’ve been warned.

@lumosinlove I’m so sorry

@donttouchmycarrots is the best proofreader ever. That is all, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

CW: gun violence, gunshot wound, blood, trauma, hospitals, vague reference to needles (not anything besides a quick mention, but I just want to be safe)

Clandestine Masterlist

The sound of a gunshot and the resulting scream that tore through Logan’s earpiece would plague his days and haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. Even scarier than that, though, was the deafening, all-encompassing silence that followed.

He sucked in a harsh breath as his grip on Finn’s arm tightened and his heart lurched. This couldn’t be happening. No. He’d thought of everything. He’d planned for everything –

And yet here he was, again, too far away and too late to do anything to prevent what was happening. He was left scrambling to react, just like with the honeypot. The helplessness made him freeze in place, paralyzed with fear.

Finn tried to pull his arm from Logan’s death grip, laughing confusedly. “Ow, Logan. Why are you-” He took one look at Logan’s face and his smile dropped. “What’s wrong?” There was a rustling sound over the coms and Logan held his next breath, listening intently for something, anything.

“Leo?” He dared to ask, desperate for an answer.

A muffled, pained gasp. Then a cold, impassive voice, “You should’ve known better than to try something this stupid.”

A thud.

More agonizing silence.

“Logan, you’re scaring me.” Finn said, voice pitched low as he finally pried his arm from Logan’s grip. Logan didn’t waste another second. He threw the door open and sent Regulus a frantic look.

“Riddle’s office. Where is it?”

At first Regulus didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, shit. Follow me.”

Finn grabbed his arm as they followed Regulus at a run, limping heavily. “Logan. What happened?”

Logan didn’t know what to say. There was no way he could think of to soften the blow. Half his attention was on Finn, and half was on his earpiece, desperate to hear anything else. There was a shaky inhale, then what Logan could only describe as a whine. He bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I heard a gunshot.” He finally told his partner. He didn’t mention the scream.

Finn didn’t say another word, just ran faster.

It seemed to take years to reach Riddle’s office. When they got there the door was still wide open. The first thing Logan saw were long legs and a pair of shoes, the laces coming untied on one of them.

The next thing he saw was red.

“Baby,” Finn breathed, pushing past Logan and rushing to Leo’s side. Wide, scared blue eyes stared up at them, shiny with tears. That finally spurred Logan into motion again – the need to help, to stop the pain, to fix this. And he couldn’t do that in his current, panicked state.

He took a deep breath, forced his feelings back, and entered the room. Finn’s hands were hovering over Leo, unsure of what to do as he said something quietly, urgently, too softly for anyone else to hear. Logan crouched down next to them, gritting his teeth and examining the wound. He’d been shot in the chest before – he had the scar to prove it – so he knew for a fact that they weren’t supposed to bleed this much. Something was wrong.

He needed to get them out of here. And quick.

“Finn,” he said firmly, getting both of their attention. “I need you to find directions to the closest hospital.”

Finn’s gaze snapped to him, his eyes broadcasting his thoughts clearly. They weren’t supposed to go to hospitals, especially not with gunshot wounds. Medical staff were required to report gunshot wounds to the authorities, and as spies that was never a good idea. Definitely not here. The first place the Snakes would look for them would be hospitals. But Logan also knew that Leo didn’t stand a chance without one. This was beyond his own rudimentary medical expertise. They didn’t really have a choice.

“That bad, huh?” Leo quipped, trying to keep his voice light even though it was thick with tears. Trying to be tough, to put on a brave face.

It made Logan want to cry.

“Nah,” Finn said back quickly, a shaky hand toying with the gray tuft of hair at Leo’s temple. “you’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you out of here and fix you up good as new, ok?”

Without giving Leo any warning, Logan slapped a hand over his mouth and pressed the other one down against the wound, hard. His shout was muffled by Logan’s hand, but it still echoed in his earpiece and ripped at Logan’s heart. A blood-stained hand flew up to try and push Logan’s hand back as Leo tried to squirm away from him ineffectively, eyes huge.

Logan’s heart sped up rapidly, hating more than anything that he was hurting the blond – something he’d been trying so hard not to do. “Shh, shh, I know. I’m sorry. But I need you to stay quiet, ok? Finn, keep pressure on that.” He reached over to grab Finn’s hand and replaced his own with it firmly. “Don’t let up. Reg, I need you to help him up and get him to the car.”

Logan grabbed his gun and flicked the safety off as he rose to his feet. Regulus took his place quickly, and he and Finn hauled Leo to his feet as Logan looked into the hallway.

This didn’t make sense. Gunshots weren’t quiet. And Riddle knew they were here, he’d known Leo had partners from the way he talked directly into his mic.

So why were the hallways empty? Shouldn’t they be trying to catch them?

Logan didn’t have time to question it, not yet. His first priority was getting the hell out of there.

Finn moved to stand beside Leo, slinging his long arm over his shoulders. “I’m too short for this.” He joked, forcing his voice to not shake. He didn’t know how to deal with this. He’d never seen so much blood in his entire life. And that fact that it was Leo’s…

He didn’t get a response, which made him frantically shift his gaze over and up at his partner. Glazed-over eyes, shallow and uneven breathing, a slight sway as they got moving. He’d never felt so useless in his entire life, or so panicked. Finn didn’t know how to help, and that fact hurt. He always knew how to help.

The four of them snuck out a side door without being caught or chased, which Finn found odd. He wasn’t complaining, but it was weird, like something else was at play. It was too easy.

The sun was rising as they escaped, painting the sky in aggressive colors, angry and red. Too much red. All Finn could see was red.

Logan led the way down the street, breath clouding in front of him. Leo shivered from beside Finn, causing him to move in closer as they finally reached an all-too-familiar gray car parked on the side of the road. Regulus let go of Leo to open the back door, causing Leo to further slump against Finn. He shouldered the weight grimly, but didn’t buckle. Logan slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine as they loaded Leo into the car, Finn sliding in beside him and Reg taking the passenger’s seat. Finn heard the navigation app calmly and too-slowly start giving directions and then they were off.

Finn was practically in Leo’s lap, putting pressure on his chest with one hand and removing Leo’s earpiece and mic with the other. He threw them onto the seat next to them before moving back to cradle the back of Leo’s head, desperate to provide any support he could. He was cold and clammy now, and pale – so pale. Finn’s heart wrenched, watching glassy eyes try to stay focused on him.

“Got something for you,” Leo mumbled, and a closed fist brushed against his arm. Finn looked down as Leo opened his hand and sucked in a breath. Two blue flash drives, tarnished with crimson. He reached for them, stunned.

“How did you-”

“Snagged the one in the safe. Then Riddle got too close. Took advantage.”

“Nutty,” Finn breathed, taking the drives with a trembling hand and pocketing them both. He got a small, tired smile in response.

“Job’s done.”

He was right. Those two drives, plus the one Regulus had apparently snagged earlier, meant that they had all seven now. Finn thought he’d be happy when they finally finished the job. He wasn’t happy, though.

It sure as hell wasn’t worth this.

Leo’s head started to droop, eyelids fluttering. Finn, panicked and with nothing else to do, started talking a mile a minute. Anything to keep him awake. “You know what that means, baby?”

“Like it when you call me baby.” He interjected, voice soft and barely audible as he began to shake. His lips were blue. Whether it was from the cold or from the blood loss, Finn wasn’t sure. He hated it either way.

The car hit a pothole and Leo winced, going tense and screwing his eyes shut. There were, Finn realized with an ache underneath his ribs, a lot of things movies got wrong when they had scenes like this. They always painted it in one of two ways: stoic and heroic – where the injured person put on a brave façade and muscled through the pain or seemed unable to feel it – or stereotypical war movies with the blood and the guts and the blood-curdling screams. Real life wasn’t like either of those. This was a shocking, overwhelming sort of pain; there was no screaming or thrashing or anything like that, but it seemed to have stunned Leo into immobility and stolen all the breath from his lungs. It wasn’t pretty or romanticized – it was horrific and gruesome and raw and Finn was terrified.

He moved in closer and hurried to keep talking.

“I can definitely keep calling you that, if you want.” When all he got was an exhausted look in response, Finn pressed on unsteadily, fighting back tears. “But it means we can go on vacation, after you’re feeling better. Any ideas on where to go?”

“Somewhere warm.”

Finn breathed out a laugh at the slurred words, combing tenderly through blond curls dark with sweat. “I think we can manage that.”

“’M so cold.” He whispered, voice pitching up at the end, and Finn was painfully reminded of just how young the blond was. Too young to be bleeding out in the backseat of a car, that was for sure. Finn bit down on his lip, hard, and felt it start to bleed again. He didn’t care.

“I know.” He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as wide, terrified eyes stared back at him, no longer focused. “We’ll get you warm, I promise.”

“I’m not ready to die.”

The small, broken voice was the final straw on the camel’s back. Finn let out a sob, squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed a kiss to a cold temple and lingered there. “You’re breaking my heart here, baby. Just hang on, ok?”

No response.

Finn sniffled and pulled back. “Nutty?”

His blue eyes were closed. His head was lolled back against the headrest. But he was breathing, and a weak, thready pulse beat faintly against Finn’s fingertips. The redhead snapped his head around to look at Logan in the driver’s seat, knuckles white against the steering wheel.

“Logan.”

“Almost there,” came the curt, tense reply as green eyes flashed at him from the rearview mirror. Finn didn’t understand how he could be so calm. Sure, Finn had been in stressful, dangerous situations before but this – this was hell.

They pulled around to the ER entrance and Logan barely remembered to put the car in park before he was out and pulling the thick glass door of the lobby open and begging for help. After a drive that had felt like hours, what happened next seemed to go too fast. Logan could barely keep up. Nurses following him back to the car with a gurney. Opening the door to a motionless Leo and Finn cradling him too close, tear tracks visible on his face as he craned his neck to look at them over his shoulder. Logan had to pry him away in order for the nurses to load Leo onto the gurney. And then, in a flurry of motion and fast talking and medical terminology, he was gone.

Finn turned into Logan’s chest and sagged against him, blood-stained hands gripping tightly to his shirt as he sucked in a trembling breath. Logan just stared at the hospital doors, lost as the early-morning sun shone down on them. It didn’t feel real. This was just some horrible nightmare; he’d be waking up any minute now.

They had both forgotten that Regulus was there until he quietly spoke up. “I’m going to ditch the car, get rid of the evidence. I’ll call Sirius, too, make sure they all know. You two get inside.”

Logan was pretty sure he muttered his thanks, but he honestly couldn’t remember. He just untangled himself from Finn, grabbed his hand, and led him inside to the waiting area.

One of the nurses working the front desk took one look at the two of them, spaced-out and covered in blood that wasn’t their own, and murmured something to her coworker before coming out from behind the desk. “You’re here with the GSW patient, right?” she asked as soon as she was within hearing distance.

GSW.

Gunshot wound.

It didn’t feel real.

When neither of them answered, she sighed sympathetically. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“He needs to be checked out, too.” Logan blurted, motioning to Finn, who looked over at him quickly.

“No, I’m fine-”

“His face is all busted up and he’s limping pretty heavily.”

“Logan-”

“Please,” he said quietly, squeezing the hand in his but refusing to look at him. He stared down at the speckled linoleum flooring, too shiny and reflective. He hoped his silence spoke for him.

I need to know at least one of you is going to be ok.

Finn huffed, but nodded reluctantly. The nurse gave him instructions that Logan didn’t really hear and then he was gone, too, leaving just Logan and the nurse.

The nurse put a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” Logan said, numb. It wasn’t right. The voice was all wrong. That nickname belonged to a soft southern accent, chased by a dimpled smile. Not to this stranger.

“Ok,” she soothed, removing her hand. “Ok. I’m going to grab you some clothes to change into. There’s a bathroom right over there if you want to start cleaning yourself up.” She gave him a kind smile, which went unnoticed. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan meant to start moving towards the bathroom, he really did. But his feet were glued to the spot, eyes still trained on the floor, trying to gather the will to move, take a step, look up, anything. The next thing he knew the nurse was back and holding out a stack of clothes. He tore his gaze from the floor finally to look at a truly hideous black and yellow shirt.

“Here’s some clothes from the lost and found, dear. Come with me now.” She said gently, grabbing his arm and forcing him to move. They crossed the room to stop in front of a bathroom door.

“I’ll let you get changed and cleaned up, but then there’s some questions I need to ask you after that, ok?”

Logan just nodded absently and closed the bathroom door. He then stumbled to the sink, turned the water on, and began scrubbing at his hands. And scrubbing and scrubbing, because no matter what he did, there was still too much red.

Bang. Scream.

He kept scrubbing, watching the water turn a translucent pink under his hands.

Bang. Scream.

The blood under his fingernails wasn’t washing off. He grabbed more soap.

“I’ll be careful - I’ll be so careful, Tremz. You gotta trust me.”

His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t accurately scrub anymore. He gave up and reached for the paper towels, vision blurring with tears. His movements were losing their coordination, fear and frustration rising as the adrenaline from earlier dropped. His shirt came off next and was thrown into the trash can. He stared down at the shirt the nurse had handed him, some brand he didn’t recognize emblazoned on the front in electric yellow.

“Sometimes it’s ok to not be ok.”

“Fuck,” Logan hissed, giving up on the shirt and sitting down on the cool floor, his back to the wall. His head came to rest in his hands as he broke down.

It didn’t feel real.

But it was.

And Logan had no idea what to do.

“You promised,” he intoned vacantly, to no one but himself and gray-toned walls. “You promised me you’d be careful.”

***

Finn, fitted with a knee brace and ice pack in hand, found him folded in on himself in a waiting room chair. He looked just as miserable as Finn felt. He limped over to the brunet and sat down beside him slowly, looking over at a carefully blank profile. He’d been crying, Finn could tell from the redness of his eyes and the occasional sniffle. But he seemed to have completely shut down after the fact.

“Logan-”

He didn’t look up. “I’m fine.”

What a lie. “You don’t look fine.” Finn stated plainly, wanting to skip the false assurances already and be able to help. He needed Finn, and Finn needed Logan. He didn’t think he could handle this on his own.

That earned him a dark, lifeless laugh. “Then stop looking.”

“Stop,” Finn said tiredly, all the fight leaving him at that moment. “You don’t have to pretend, not around me.”

Silence stretched around them for a long time, all-encompassing and suffocating.

“It was his idea,” Logan said, voice a low murmur and yet deafening in the quiet around them. Finn held his breath. “Splitting up. He was… so confident, so sure that he could do it. And I guess he was right. He got the drive, after all. Two of them, actually.” The redness in his eyes contrasted starkly with vibrant green. It felt like someone had taken Finn’s broken heart and stepped on it mercilessly. “I had a bad feeling about it, though. Just like I did with the honeypot. Should’ve put my foot down and forced him to stay with me-”

“No, Lo.”

“But-”

“No. You weren’t the one behind the trigger.”

“I let him go.”

“He went on his own, you didn’t let him do anything.” Finn reached over and grabbed Logan’s hand, holding on tight. “If it wasn’t you in this situation, what would you think? If our roles were reversed, would you blame me?”

Logan’s face screwed up. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is shouldering all that guilt.” The redhead sighed and leaned back a little, letting his back hit the chair. “This isn’t your fault.”

Logan didn’t exactly look convinced, but then again, Finn hadn’t seen many emotions from him ever since… well. Ever since. Everything was blank, numb, exhausted. They were both so tired, and yet neither of them could rest. Not yet.

Finn was dazedly staring at the landscape painting on the wall when Logan reached over to twist their fingers together. That one small initiation of contact was so telling - it was needy, almost, and desperate for comfort, for reassurance. Finn needed that just as much as Logan did. He brushed his thumb against Logan’s in a slow, soothing rhythm.

Back and forth, back and forth.

“Life has a fucking brutal one-two punch, huh?” Logan said simply, no humor to his voice at all. Finn winced, but kept his voice soft.

“Lo, baby…”

Logan turned to look at him, eyes vulnerable and hurting, but with an underlying hint of hopefulness that he was desperately trying to hide. “You called him that, too.”

People always said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. Finn had never really understood the phrase, not until that exact second. That, along with their current situation, finally got Finn ready to talk. What was the point of waiting for the opportune moment if the future was so uncertain? Nothing in their lives was really set in stone, especially with their jobs. Wouldn’t it be better to have some time with them than none at all?

He was tired of always feeling like he was missing chances.

It was time to finally do something about it.

Logan’s grip suddenly tightened, stopping him short. “Finn.”

“What?” Finn asked, following his gaze to a nurse looking between them as he made his way towards their chairs. He swallowed thickly, dread settling in his stomach.

Please let it be good news. I don’t know what we’ll do if…

He couldn’t tell anything from the nurse’s face; it was just as impassive as Logan’s. Finn’s heart hammered away anxiously as they waited for him to update them. Logan seemed to be holding his breath.

“Hey, guys. You’re probably ready for an update, huh?”

That was so much of an understatement that Finn almost laughed in his face. Logan sent such an impressive glare to the nurse that he visibly paled, then rushed to start talking.

“Um, it was a pretty nasty shot. How much detail do you want me to go into? I just know some people get squeamish or don’t want to hear about all of it, and I don’t know what you guys want and that one-” he motioned to Logan, who was still staring the poor guy down, eyes hard and unforgiving. “Is frankly scary as fuck, so I just… don’t want to screw this up.”

“Give us the abridged version.” Finn said decisively for both of them. He didn’t want the details – he’d witnessed them firsthand. That was enough for an entire lifetime, and then some.

“Ok. Ok, I can do that.” The nurse took a deep breath before continuing. “So the bullet nicked the subclavian artery, shattered the collarbone, and caused a lot of muscle damage. We removed the bullet, patched the bone together as best we could, and repaired the muscle damage. He’s being transferred to a room now, so we’ll come get you as soon as you can come see him.”

They both stared at him for a few seconds, processing. And then they were hit by a tsunami of emotions: relief, exhaustion, elation, so many others Finn couldn’t even place in his overwhelmed state of mind.

“He’s… he’s ok?” Logan asked faintly, disbelievingly.

“Well, he’s got a long way to go. Lots of PT, potentially additional surgeries… but we like his chances. We’ll all feel better once he wakes up, though.” The poor kid looked terrified, so Finn knew he had more to say. “I do have some questions for you, though. Legally, we’re required to report all gunshot wounds to the authorities-”

“You can’t tell them,” Logan blurted before he even knew what he was saying, the words almost ripping themselves from his throat. “The people – person who did this is still out there, and he’s looking for us. If you report this, he won’t hesitate to hunt us down.”

“I can’t just lie-”

“Please.” Logan said. It wasn’t a request. He didn’t think he could handle his partners in that much danger right now. They were still at risk, of course, but they couldn’t have that potential of being tracked down on top of everything else. “At least stall the report for as long as you can.”

“If they come for us, the entire hospital will be at risk.” Finn added, looking apologetic about it. “We’d hate for that to happen, wouldn’t you?”

How manipulative. Under any other circumstances, he knew Finn would feel guilty about it. But desperate times called for desperate measures. And this was Leo. Logan knew that both of them would watch the world burn if it meant keeping him safe.

The nurse looked uncomfortable and reluctant, but he slowly nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Could… could you make sure he has some extra blankets?” Finn asked out of the blue, eyes soft, if not a little lost. “He’s always cold.” Logan squeezed his hand again, warm and bigger than his. It was strange, how such a small thing could mean so much. The simple act of holding Finn’s hand grounded him, it assured him that he wasn’t alone in this.

The nurse smiled – a gentle, understanding thing. It almost made up for the train-wreck that was the entire previous conversation. “That I can do.”

***

Gryffindor Intelligence Agency was too quiet for the number of people who were crowded into the bullpen. Winter and Darcy and the elder O’Hara and Walker and all three Potters, Dorcas, Nadeau, Kuznetsov… Most of them didn’t even know Leo that well. It was very telling that they were all here anyway, a testament to how much they all embraced the team aspect of an organization like this. They were all sitting in silence, only a mere handful of expressions on their faces: shock, worry, and anger.

They were ready to take the Snakes down, and they weren’t about to hold back any punches. Not anymore.

They all looked up when Remus and Sirius entered, sitting up straighter and waiting for news. Remus was holding Sirius’ hand, seeming to not care about who saw. The notion sent butterflies through Sirius’ stomach. He’d have to bring it back up later, at a better time.

“Still no news,” Remus murmured, and everyone seemed to slump a little again.

“I left his mom a message,” Kasey said dully and Natalie squeezed his hand, leaning against his shoulder comfortingly. “Told her to stay put until we can guarantee that they’re safe.”

Lily winced at the mention of Leo’s mom and hugged Harry a little tighter. “I can’t even imagine…” she trailed off sadly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Fuck Riddle.” Talker said darkly. Everyone hummed in agreement.

“Regulus said that they didn’t come across a single agent when they were leaving,” Sirius said quietly, getting everyone’s attention quickly. “That was intentional. The question is why.”

Remus took control of the conversation then, eerily calm and calculated. It was terrifying. “We’re not holding back anymore. We’ve got all the evidence we need now, so we’ve only got two things left to do: get the Cubs out of there, and take the Snakes down.” He looked around at the team surrounding him, all serious and ready for business. “Who’s got ideas?”

They put their heads together and started to plan.

***

Finn turned the dial of Leo’s old lock as they waited by a bedside, taking comfort in the sound of the quiet clicks and the worn-down metal beneath his fingers. He had no clue where Regulus went. He’d returned from ditching the car three hours and forty-nine minutes ago – and yes, Finn was keeping track of the time – and checked in on all of them before disappearing again, looking a little spooked about being in a hospital. Finn didn’t want to ask; he didn’t want to know.

The redhead had been sitting in the same spot, with Logan by his side. Waiting, wanting nothing more than to hold Leo’s hand, but one arm was in a sling to keep his collarbone immobile and the other had an IV line sticking out of it and clear medical tape covering it. The nurse had told them that it was fine, that the tape would prevent the IV from slipping out, but it was one of those things Finn felt like he couldn’t risk. Everything in that moment felt so tenuous and fragile, like one small, insignificant thing could tip the scales until they were no longer somewhat in their favor. So he looked back down at the lock instead as he felt another sticking point, then wrote down the number on a small, square napkin.

How on earth did Leo do this in his head?

He continued rotating the dial, sneaking a glance over at Logan. He sat in the exact same position as the last time Finn had checked in on him; a silent sentinel, constantly keeping watch. His eyes flitted from the door to the monitor Leo was hooked up to, then to Leo’s face – which was where it lingered the longest – then Finn. After that he started over, a seemingly never-ending loop: door, monitor, Leo, Finn.

It was heartwarming in its protectiveness, and heartbreaking in its anxiousness.

All of a sudden, the readings on the monitor changed slightly – heartrate sped up, breathing slowed. Finn and Logan sat up straighter and held their breath, ready to bolt out the door to get help.

Long, nimble fingers twitched after too long of being abnormally still.

And then cornflower blue eyes opened, just a sliver at first, then wider after a few seconds.

Finn was so tired of crying, but there was no holding it back. It was a nice change, though – to be crying tears of relief instead of sadness. Logan gripped his hand again, shakily this time.

“Hey, Leo.” He said gently, voice wavering just as much as his hand in Finn’s.

A sleepy, drugged, dimpled smile.

And almost everything was right in their world again.

[chubbyreaderchan]

Forgive | Bruce Wayne x Reader

a/n: honestly this is kind of my own timeline. It vaguely has anything to do with any known plots other. Bruce and his wife end up in the future and meet old man Bruce.

tagging: @sam-draws​

The future.

It wasn't the first time that Bruce Wayne was thrust forward in time. However, it was the first for one Mrs. (Y/n) Wayne. The city was very different, yet at the same time it still felt like home as they traveled across building tops to make it towards Wayne Mansion. Of course, Bruce suspected Chronos and needed to head towards the Batcave to not only figure out where he is but to go back to the time they belonged in.

However, his number one priority before that is to get (Y/n) somewhere safe. Which again, was in the Batcave. He knew his future self would be able to take care of her.

"The city is amazing..." She said softly, holding onto Bruce's Batman clad side. They stood atop of a large building, Bruce trying to make a decision on what would be the safest way to get his wife home. "Technology is amazing." A barely there smile danced on Bruce's face. "It is." He said softly. His eyes glanced at her beautiful face before he gripped her close, shooting his grapple across the city.

He loved the way she held tighter around his waste as they traveled through with very little pauses. It wasn't long until they were at an entrance to the Batcave.

Bruce leaned forward, scanned his eye and it immediately opened one of the doors. Inside sat the cars and several motorbikes only one of which was familiar to (Y/n) however.

It was the one that (Y/n) rode in the first time Bruce had saved her. "Stay here." Bruce said gently, moving to a second set of doors. "I have to go...talk to myself." She smiled and nodded. "Okay." She leaned up against him and pressed a soft kiss against his. "Be safe."

Bruce smiled softly at her again before turning to scan his hand to enter the second set of doors. He left through them and it closed silently. (Y/n) could help but wonder where her children where during this. Where they okay? She wondered around the different vehicles, glancing at each one before finally deciding to sit in the one she knew. Her hand touched the side, finger print scanned. It unlocked with a barely noticeable click. She slid in, getting relatively comfortable.

She watched the clock on the dash, it slowly seemed to pass. A bit of worry began to naw at her stomach. Where was he? Is he okay? It seemed like it had been a while. Then the garage slowly began to open. A strange looking car drove, thin yet muscular figure appeared from the car. He wore a Batman suit but it was definitely not what Bruce would wear. Was he one of hers? Then he noticed her sitting in the car. His white eyes narrowed at her and he swung the door open.

"Who are you?! How did you get in here?!" He half shouted. He grabbed her firmly by the arm pulling her out. "Where you really going to steal from Batman?" He stated slightly confused. His eyes wondered her face, she looked familiar but he didn't know why he knew her face.

"No I'm not-"

He tugged her along and put his hand on the scanner. "You're coming with me." His grip was strong but it didn't hurt as he pulled her through the very familiar entry way of the Batcave. He tugged her along to the control room first, perhaps Bruce knew who she was? She wasn't resisting him. "Look, sweetie" she spoke so gently to him. "I'm guessing you don't know me but-" before she could explain they came upon Bruce. No, two Bruces deep in conversation which instantly stopped when the much older Bruce looked up to see (Y/n). His beautiful eyes widened.

"(Y/n)?!" He was in shock. "Terry... Let her go." He demanded darkly, causing the confused Terry to let go. "The (Y/n)?" He asked looking at her again. That's why he knew her. Bruce had many pictures of her hung up around the manner, but pictures were hardly the same. Especially since he doesn't spend a lot of time looking at them. Bruce would sometimes talk about her, but only after a glass of whiskey or two.

"You aged well, Bruce." She said softly, approaching him. Her Bruce looked at her a little sadly. He already knew that she was long dead in this time from their last encounter with the future. It was one of the few things he cared about. The older Bruce looked genuinely shocked. "That's the other thing. While I work..." Her current Bruce spoke. "I need to leave her here for her safety." "Of course" there was no hesitation in the older Bruce's voice. "Thank you." Bruce, her Bruce, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. "You're coming with me." He said to Terry. Then they were off.

She watched as the left through the doors once again to figure out where Chronos was and what exactly he was up to. The room was silent as older Bruce walked over to sit down in his usual chair to look at his screens. He couldn't look at her. It was so damn hard. She was so beautiful and he missed her so damn much. He wanted to kiss her so badly but he didn't know if that would be appropriate. He was an old man. She was still so young.

Without warning, she sat down next to him and took his hand gently. She leaned against his shoulder like she had so many times before this. Bruce stiffened, despite his body automatically wanting to hold her close. She frowned slightly, he was still her husband in this time... wasn’t he? Slowly, she pulled back, looking down at her hands. “Sorry... habit.” 

“No... it’s alright.” Bruce assured, smiling at her and she smiled back. “I hope I still look at good as you do,” She said suddenly, looking over his still very handsome face. Then his eyes flashed for a moment of sadness. “You are always beautiful.” Bruce said vaguely. “If you would like... you can hold on to me again.” The Batcave was suddenly cold without her on his arm. He missed her every damn day. He felt so much guilt about her death too. She died because she loved him. 

(Y/n) smiled again so sweetly, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his once again and leaning against him. He leaned forward slightly putting on a video feed from Terry’s suit. “So... is he one of our boys?” She asked with a small smile, looking up at him then glanced worriedly as she watched her version of Bruce. The older Bruce gently squeezed her hand in his. “I’ll be okay.” He assured. “I know,” was her response but she held his hands so tightly. The feeling of her skin against his sparked a hint of youth in his soul. Her death was one of those items that truly rotted him from the inside. Maybe he could just enjoy her presence even if it was just for a short period. He almost hoped that it would take his past self a while to figure this out. Everything about her was so comforting. She was the brightest light in his very dark world. 

“He never met you.” He answered the earlier question. “Oh...” She frowned. “So did we--?” “No... I...” Bruce turned in his chair to look her in the eyes. “You aren’t alive anymore... you died... years ago.” “Oh Bruce.” She said softly, moving forward to hug him to her. He was surprised but it was nice to feel her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the feeling he had missed for so many years. It was nice to be enveloped in her arms, her favorite perfume brought many good memories of her to the older Bruce. “Have you been alone this whole time?” Bruce nodded. “You couldn’t be beat.” She pulled from the hug half way, a sad smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Bruce...” She reached her hand, pressing it against his cheek slightly. Her thumb brushed part of a long scar that ran down his cheek. She wondered if she would be there what he got it. 

“No, (Y/n)... I’m sorry. I’m the reason you died.” 

“Oh, Bruce... I don’t think--” 

He placed a hand over hers upon his cheek. “No, I didn’t make it in time...” His blue eyes held so much pain in them, yet still held love for the woman before him. Nothing changed over the years when it came to her. “Bruce... " “(Y/n)...” He pulled her hand off of his face, holding it gently. He still wore their wedding ring, this caused a small smile to appear on her face when she noticed. He followed her eyes. “Even in death I’ll always be loyal to you.” he smiled, a few wrinkles deepened at the corners of his mouth. A soft sigh came from her lips. 

“Bruce... I forgive you.” She looked him over again. “It’s okay.” “It’s not okay... You were tortured because I wasn’t careful enough.” 

“Bruce... feeling sorry about my death doesn’t help anyone.” “I know.” he responded. 

“Can... you tell me who did it?” 

“I don’t think that would be safe.” he admitted. “I wouldn’t want you to worry. You should be able to live without knowing something like that, like everyone else.” Bruce was now regretting telling her why she wasn’t around anymore. “I know...” She responded. 

Then he glanced at the computer screen where a fight had broken out. A soft gasp of nervousness escaped her, grabbing the older Bruce’s hand once again. It would never become easy to watch her husband fight like this. It was also quite strange to hold his hand while watching him risk his life. Then a grunt is heard and the feed cuts. He had to be okay, right? She looked to the older version of her dear husband. He doesn’t seem entirely concerned. A firm stoic look stayed on his face, not many would find it comforting but (Y/n) did. She leaned against him again. “Come on, let’s go have some coffee. They are just fine. It was just a kick.” 

He was fantastic at thinking first and worrying last. It was always a trait that she admired. “Okay” She agreed. She was curious how much the home had changed over the years. Especially since she was gone. Bruce slowly stood up with his cane, however, (Y/n) instantly was at his side to help him. 

“I don’t need help” He almost snapped but was able to control his tone, especially when he felt her at his side again. He ignored his need for pride, wrapping an arm around her waste. The movement was so smooth, so comfortable. He remembered doing it so many times and it was as natural as ever, no matter how many years it had been. His fingers tightened firmly as he walked up the steps with her. It was familiar yet different as they wondered up to the main part. There were obvious scars and broken pieces. It had gone through some things, that was for sure. Once in the kitchen, without hesitation she went to work to make the coffee. 

“You don’t change much, hm?” A teasing smile was on her lips as she noticed that the placement of everything was the same. “You know me well” he simply responded. The statement was true in many ways, even down to his exact perfect cup of coffee. How did she and Alfred do it? She placed it down then sat in her spot. A spot that had been empty for too long, Bruce thought to himself. 

“Do we have grandchildren?” She asked suddenly, sipping her own perfect cup of coffee. “I don’t want to spoil anything for you.” Bruce said simply, then looked over as a large black dog walked into the kitchen. “Oh! Hello!” She hopped out of the seat and approached the dog slowly. “His name is Ace.” “Nice to meet you Ace” She spoke gently. He allowed her to pet the dog, causing another smile to appear on his face. It had been too long since he smiled this much. 

She was his happiness. Always has been.

“I love you so much.” Old man Bruce said suddenly, causing her to look up at him with a smile. “I love you too Bruce.” 

“I’m an old man now.” 

“And I told you that you aged very well.” He smiled again at her as she approached him again. Part of her wanted to kiss him but she was worried if that would be wrong from her Bruce’s perspective. She bit her lip looking him over once. How much trouble could she be in if she did? Then his watch alerted him. “They are back.” Bruce said moving to get up once more. She moved to help him but he was up without struggle. His arm was back around her protectively. It was like he didn’t want to let her go. Back down into the batcave they went and there her Bruce was looking as confident as ever in his cape and cowl.

“We can go home soon.” Bruce, her Bruce spoke looking her in the eyes. “It wasn’t Chronos but I have found the device that was used thanks to persuading a... ‘friend’ of his” He referred to Terry. 

“I just want to discuss something with myself.” Bruce nodded to his older self, walking off. 

“So you’re one of my sons?” She said to Terry who just looked surprised when she called him her son. 

--

Bruce had finished his discussion. A small smile was on both of their lips as they returned. “We’re ready to go home, (Y/n).” He held up a small device and moved to hold on to her. “Wait!” She said quickly. In a moment she moved forward and wrapped her arms around the future Bruce. She pressed her lips to his in a loving kiss, causing both Bruces to widen their eyes in shock. But only for a second, the older Bruce’s hands landed on her hips. 

He missed those soft lips against her own. They always seemed to take his breath away. She pulled away from him, her hand still rested on his chest. “Bruce... just remember I will always love you.” 

“I know.” 

She trotted off to wrap her arms around her Bruce tightly and in a flash of green they were gone. 

“So that way the famous, (Y/n)?” 

“Yep.” 

“She’s special, hm?” 

“Very.” 

Moments later, a voice familiar called to him. To both of them. They looked at one another in a slight confusion but older Bruce had a knowing look. “You... let him--?” 

“Yep.” 

(Y/n) much older walked down the steps and smiled at her husband. “Do you two want to come up for a break?”

Bruce saved her after all. 

[openheart12]

This Is Where I Belong

A/N: Set during The Conjuring 3 and contains dialogue from the movie (okay quite a bit ifhsdshgskdf) 

Summary: Ed is distraught after realizing his wife is in the same place as the Satanist, all alone and rushes to meet her. Only to be under the curse that almost makes him destroy the most important thing to him; his wife. 

WC: 2,100

It was the morning after they had found the witch’s totem in Ed’s office and after a sleepless night for everyone, they were gathered in the living room trying to figure out what to do next.

“We have to find this woman. We’ve identified the curse and now we have Jessica’s casefile. There has to be something in here. Okay, I’m gonna take the book to be translated. There has to be a clue about where we can find the altar.” Lorraine said to the small group.

“So what do we do?” Debbie asked.

“You should go be with Arne. He’s gonna need you tonight more than ever. Ask Father Newman for help,” Lorraine explained as she grabbed the keys. 

“Drew, you and me are gonna tear into those files. We’ve got to find a link between these cases.” Ed said.

“And a Satanist’s power is strongest at night. So… Let’s hope she doesn’t try anything before then.” Lorraine said, standing up and heading for the door.

“Lorraine, wait!” Ed called, following after her. “I just wanted-” he trailed off, glancing at Debbie and Drew. 

“We’ll be in the kitchen,” Drew said, excusing themselves, knowing they needed some privacy. Ed shot him a grateful smile. 

“I just wanted to say be careful,” Ed continued. 

“I will be,” she answered with a small smile. They hadn’t talked about the night before, both trying to push it out of their heads. Ed had opted to sleep downstairs on the couch much to Lorraine’s disappointment, but she didn’t want to fight him on the subject, knowing that he was scared of potentially hurting her again. “Ed…” she called softly, “stop blaming yourself.”

He forced a small smile, “just, please, be careful.” 

“I love you,” she added, wanting to break through whatever walls he had built up. 

“I love you too,” he said, a genuine smile on his face this time. 

Ed had stayed behind with Drew to go over the casefile they had received. They had been pouring over the information for a couple hours now, not finding anything that linked the cases together and frustration started to build. 

“There’s nothing in these interviews. Her friends barely saw her after she got back from college.”

“Didn’t that seem strange to you?” Ed asked. “I mean, we’re here,” he said, pointing to the map, “the Glatzels live here, just fifteen minutes away. But Jessica lived 180 miles from here. Why is this one so far away?” He paused to think, removing his glasses before facing Drew. “Hey, where did Jessica find her totem?”

“I just saw something about that. It was in an interview with her parents, it was in a box,” he said as he searched through the papers in front of him. ‘She brought it back home in a box from college.’”

“Where’d she go to college?”

“Fairfield.” Drew answered. Realization hit Ed as he moved the pin from Jessica’s home to her college in Fairfield and the pins created a triangle. Drew brought over a map and they sat down to look at it. “This woman lives in the area.”

“Still a lot of ground to cover.”

“Yeah, but not a lot of train tracks. Remember Lorraine’s vision? She said she heard a train.”

“What time was it? Maybe we can start eliminating some of these.”

“Probably close to midnight.”

“Then it can’t be either of these two,” Drew said, pointing to two separate lines. “The commuter lines don’t run that late. That just leaves this freight line that crosses the river here.”

“The river. Oh, dear God,” he said, knowing exactly where the altar was and who was probably already there. Fear plagued him and he was unable to do anything for a few minutes before he got up and ran to get his coat. “Give me your keys. You stay here, call the police,” he said as Drew tossed the keys.

“What do you want me to tell them?”

“Anything, just get ‘em out there!” He yelled, shutting the door behind him and running to the car. He didn’t even realize he had forgotten his pills… again.

He started the car and backed out the driveway, holding the gas pedal down to the floorboard as he sped towards the house. He was berating himself for letting Lorraine go there by herself, they were a team and he should’ve been there with her. He never should’ve left her alone. His thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute, much like the speedometer on the car that climbed higher and higher. But his top priority right now was just getting to Lorraine, hoping, praying that was alright. 

Trees blurred past him as the sky stretched on for miles. Fear had anchored itself deep into his body like an anchor in the ocean. Time seemed to slow down despite the speedometer telling him otherwise. 

After what seemed like hours, he finally saw the house come into view and seeing her car in the driveway made his stomach clench in nerves. 

“Lorraine!” He called, jumping out of the car. “Lorraine!”

“Ed!” He heard her call, but she sounded so faint like it was coming from somewhere in the distance. 

“Lorraine! Lorraine!” He called, again and again, hoping for some kind of answer. 

“Ed? Ed!” She yelled, sounding closer than before. He noticed a storm drain and knelt down beside it.

“Lorraine!” He called into the drain, grunting as he tried to lift it but it had a lock on it. He looked around where he saw a shed and grabbed a sledgehammer, hitting the lock with it twice before breaking it. He removed it and climbed down, throwing the sledgehammer down first. “Lorraine! Lorraine!” He called again, walking down a dark tunnel. Two lights lit up and he jogged down that way, holding the sledgehammer close in case he needed it. “Lorraine?” 

“Ed!” He heard her call from behind him, turning around, he saw her running towards him and relief washed over him until at the last second, ‘Lorraine’ turned into the woman he had seen earlier, the woman behind his curse. She blew dirt in his eyes, and he rubbed them, trying to get rid of the burning feeling as he fell to the ground in a heap of coughing. 

He didn’t remember what happened next, time seemed to slow down and the next thing he knew, he was wielding the sledgehammer towards Lorraine. He couldn’t stop himself though, his brain screamed that it was wrong, that he needed to stop before he did something he would come to regret. But it was no use. He watched on helplessly as she called out to him, begging him to stop, begging him to remember her. 

“Ed? Ed?” She called, shining her flashlight around the darkness as he came out of nowhere, wielding the sledgehammer and hitting a box on the wall that had sparks coming out of it. He swung again, trying to hit something, anything. 

“Ed, stop!” Lorraine called as he continued swinging. “Stop! Ed, I’m begging you!” The swinging continued and she knew she was his target. “Ed! Stop! Stop this! Ed, I’m begging you!” She pleaded once more, the sound of the metal screeching across the floor reverbated in her head. “I’m begging you, remember me! Stop!” She cried out, breathing heavily as he followed her still. She gasped seeing his once blue eyes completely white with a look on his face she would never forget.

This wasn’t her husband.

“Ed, stop!” She screamed as he tried to hit her again. “Ed, please. Remember me,” she whispered. “You’re not gonna do this! This is wrong and you know it!” She cried, dodging another swing. She ran away, panting as she tried to hide behind a statue that was broken into a thousand pieces just a moment later. She rolled onto the ground, backing herself up until she made contact with something hard. “Ed… remember me,” she tried again, their eyes locking. This was her last chance. “She tried to turn you against me. Because she thinks our love is our weakness. But it’s not. It’s not. It’s our strength. Now, open your eyes.” She whispered and she shielded her head as he pulled the sledgehammer back before swinging it down again, breaking the altar into two pieces. 

The curse was broken. 

He held out his shaking hand, offering it to her which she took as she stood up. Before either of them could say anything, Isla walked towards them. Lorraine took a step closer to Ed, their hands intertwined. 

“Your curse is broken,” he said as she pointed a knife towards them. The sound of cracking bones and the sight of her body twisting and turning made Ed hold out his arm in front of Lorraine in an attempt to protect her. “You promised a demon a soul. And it can’t go back to hell without one,” he finished as her body crumbled to the ground, lying there limp. He pulled Lorraine into his arms, relishing in the fact that she was safe. 

They didn’t say anything, it could wait for now. They would talk later, but they were content with each other’s company and security at the moment. Ed led her to the drain, helping her out first before climbing up after her. He didn’t make it far once out though, falling onto his knees.

“Hon… I… I forgot my pills,” he said, breathing heavily. 

He watched as she opened the locket she always wore on her neck, revealing the photo of Judy and one of his white pills inside. She gently handed it to him to put under his tongue before kissing his temple as sirens wailed and red and blue lights lit up the night sky. 

After giving their statements to the police, calling Father Gordon, and having Ed checked out by the paramedics, the two of them were finally on their way home. Both of them were utterly exhausted after not being able to sleep the last couple of nights. There were physical and emotional scars they had acquired during this case. 

Some that would take months and years to heal. The physical scars would fade, only to serve as a faint reminder of what happened, but the emotional ones lingered still. 

And for Ed, he wore the worst ones from this specific case. He never thought he was capable of hurting the most important person to him, the person he would very well give his life for. But he had been, by his choice or not, it didn't matter to him. The fact remained still that if she had been hurt, it would’ve been by his own hands. The same hands that had promised to love and cherish her for as long as he lived in front of all their friends and family. 

Once making it home, they both headed straight to their bedroom, not even bothering to change out of their clothes due to their exhaustion. And as exhausted as Ed was, he wasn’t able to sleep. The events of the last day replayed in his head, haunting him. 

“Sweetheart?” He was brought out of his thoughts by her gentle voice etched with concern. Concern for him. Even after everything he did to her, she was still concerned about him. 

“Yeah?” He choked out, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No…” he said, not even attempting to lie to her. She knew him too well. He had his back to her and he felt one of his hands rest on his hip. 

“Roll over,” she said softly. And he complied, turning to face her as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. She wiped them away, planting a kiss to his forehead to try to console him as she held him in her arms. “I’m right here,” she whispered in his hair as sobs wracked his weak body. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a while, his voice hoarse. “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

“I know. I know. I never blamed you, I still don't, which is why you shouldn’t blame yourself either. We’re both right here, together and that’s what’s important. We can talk more tomorrow, but we need our rest. I don’t want a grumpy husband in the morning,” she teased lightly, earning a soft chuckle from him. 

“I love you, Lorraine,” he whispered. 

“I know,” she promised, knowing how important it was to him that she knew that. 

Eventually, Ed drifted off to sleep in his wife’s arms, never feeling safer than he did right now. 

[the-witty-pen-name]

Peace

Mando x F!Reader

Warnings: lots of fluff, very vague mentions of violence, overall mostly sickening sweet 

Word Count: 2.7k 

A/N: This is my first ever imagine! I hope you enjoy. It’s very loosely inspired by the song Peace by Taylor Swift. Also not my original gif, credit to the maker!  

Mando’a Translations:

ni jate’kara = I’m so lucky

gar yaim’ner = You are my home

russ’ner = my rock

Summary: Din realized that he was in love with you on your 127th day onboard the Razor Crest. You were never supposed to be in his life that long. You were supposed to be a temporary passenger- nothing more than just a stop along the way. You were just a hitchhiker heading the same way. And now he can’t imagine how he survived so long without you.

Din realized that he was in love with you on your 127th day onboard the Razor Crest. You were never supposed to be in his life that long. You were supposed to be a temporary passenger- nothing more than just a stop along the way. You were just a hitchhiker heading the same way. And now he can’t imagine how he survived so long without you.

His son adored you from day one. The little green troublemaker wanting nothing but your attention when he could get it. That’s probably the main reason Din first decided to ask you to stay longer. He knew he needed someone to help him with the kid, and he couldn’t keep bringing him on his missions. You both settled on a plan for you to stay as a crew member of the Crest, your number one priority being Grogu. You learned from Mando many other things about the ship and quickly made his life so much easier.

It hit him faster than he could have ever realized. The honest realization that he’d been falling in love with you after all this time. It caused him to panic and to shut himself off. He knew life with him would never be easy. It was dangerous and messy- never any true sense of security. The Creed already causes so many restrictions he must insist you follow, and adding more to that list was a burden he would never want to impose on you. You were so unlike him in so many ways and he loved you for every single thing.

It was late at night and the Crest was parked in some armpit of the galaxy in need of repairs as usual. It frustrated Mando and it caused him so much stress. You were never one to let those negative emotions hold onto you the same way. It was nightfall and the planet was silent. The only noise was the sound of the kid waking up again for the third time that night. Mando awoke in his bunk, looking for the Child only to find him missing from the little hammock. In the darkness, he put on his helmet and left his bunk to find the source of the cries that filled the whole ship.

Careful to not wake you with his movements if the Child hadn’t woken you up already, he climbed up the ladder to the cockpit following the cries. He was cursing to himself silently wondering how the kid managed to sneak out of bed and into the upper level of the ship. Before opening the door, he heard the cries suddenly begin to calm down and he heard your voice on the other side of the sliding doors. He must’ve woken you up before Mando even heard the cries.

“Shh,” he heard you quietly calming the baby back to sleep. The sliding doors opened for him and he walked in. You were sitting in his chair, resting your feet up on the dash, and he held back the urge to tell you to stop. The Child was sitting comfortably on your lap, his back resting on your torso, as you pointed out stars to him in the night sky and told the folklore which corresponded to each constellation. Mando didn’t recognize the story, and honestly, he can’t remember now what it was anyways.

He was just so focused on you, and only now just realizing, how beautiful you truly were. Not just in appearances, but just as a soul- your whole being. You ability to care for Grogu and just how important your presence these months has been. He knew that you were aware of his presence, but instead of talking, he just took the copilot seat you normally occupied and listened to you talk. He watched how you gently stroked the kid’s head and how his big eyes grew heavy at your movements. Mando for the first time in months realized how much you were also like his family. It used to just be him and his son, and now accidentality you have become such an important part of their life.

As the baby slept in your arms, he wanted nothing more to stay just as you all were forever. It was a fantasy and to him, an entirely unattainable one at that. This life he leads doesn’t allow for a misfitted family such as his to ever work out in ways he would want. As he watched you and the kid, he let his mind wander to so many happy future memories the three of you would share. A cottage on a green planet, a little utopia for the three of you, all the worries of this current life just a fainted scar of a life once lived. He’d marry you, and finally have everything his life up until then he’d never gotten and then the ability to just give it all to you.

“I’ll bring him back to his bed,” you whisper quietly with a small smile. Your words breaking him out of his day dream. He nodded and you left, with the kid bundled snug in your arms. In the next few minutes, the darkest parts of his mind and the reminder of his harsh realities destroyed his dream just as quickly as he had imagined it.

Over the months, he confided in you so much. He shared his earliest memories and his life story. He taught you about the Way of the Mandolore and taught you a little bit of Mando’a. Now he felt exposed. He felt foolish for letting his guard down and letting you in his life. He could never be good enough. He could never imagine asking you to live this life, and he couldn’t imagine these feelings he felt to be reciprocated.

He was wrong. He had no idea how wrong he was to believe you wouldn’t want him. He had no idea how deeply you felt for him and longed to ease the pains of his troubled life in the ways you could. You had long ago come to accept every piece of his life he thought would scare you away. He knew you loved the Child but he had no idea how you loved him just as much. For you, you had fallen in love with the Mandolorian on the 86th day onboard the Razor Crest.

You both sat in your normal seats preparing for takeoff. Grogu sits cuddled up to your side and you hold him tightly. He plays with your hands and pulls a thin and round piece of metal out of his clothing. He slides it onto your middle finger on your left hand like a ring. It’s his own little way of giving you a gift. It resembled a ring, and it fit your hand like one. You realize it’s a piece stolen somewhere from the Razor Crest and you chuckle softly, looking down at your hand and the kid’s big smile. You whisper a thank you just for him to hear and you kiss his head. Since that day, you’ve never taken it off.

Mando had asked you about it later on that same day when he finally noticed. You and him were walking side by side away from the ship, heading into the town on the newest planet for food and supplies, and the kid following closely behind in the floating pram.

“Where’d you get the ring?” his modulated voice asked, his gloved hand gesturing to your hand.

“It was a gift from the kid,” you reply, holding it up proudly.

“Is it from the ship?” he questions, the helmet tilting.

“Probably,” you reply sheepishly. He nods and doesn’t question any further, which you appreciate. It would’ve broken your heart if he’d taken the part back to return to its rightful place somewhere in the ship. Mando realized the ship was so broken down anyway that a small piece as insignificant as that one wouldn’t matter and he much rather you keep it if it made the kid happy.

Once you reached the outskirts of the town, Mando gave you the credits you needed to complete the supply run and he separated from you and the kid to go after a bounty he had received a tip about the night before. You had a Commlink and knew you could reach him if anything happened. The kid accompanied you for the day, picking out food and also picking up medical supplies and other things that needed replenishing on the ship.

Once rations and other supplies were acquired, you safely returned to the Crest with the kid. You put everything away in its proper place, and spent a couple hours just playing and reading stories to the kid. You decided to get him a few story books while in town as well. As long as they were for the kid, Mando wouldn’t care about the additional purchases. Comfortable in his makeshift bed, you read him one of the stories until he had gone down for a nap. Shortly after he had fallen asleep, you realize how late it actually is and head to your own bunk.

You hear Mando return, and he must assume you both are sleeping already due to the darkness of the ship. You hear him just head straight to his bunk, most likely exhausted from the mission. You try to make a mental note to ask him how it went in the morning before you drift off to sleep. You’re only asleep for a couple of hours before you’re jolted awake from a horrible noise outside. Before you think of yourself, you’re getting out of bed to check on the kid. You meet Mando in the hallway, somehow already wearing his full armor.

“Stay with him,” he says, holding onto your shoulders. “There’s thieves outside the ship. Lock yourself in my bunk with him and I’ll take care of it. Just make sure you and him stay safe.”

You nod, following his plan. He grabs some of his weapons and waits until your locked in his bunk before opening the ship. The baby still was sound asleep, probably exhausted still from today. He didn’t even stir at the sound of blasters and fighting outside. You picked him up and laid down with him on Mando’s bad, holding him in close and keeping his ears guarded from the noise. You weren’t sure how long you were there, protecting the kid and just waiting in Mando’s bunk. Eventually, the noise outside had ceased and you heard Mando’s voice back in the Crest. You breathed out a deep sigh of relief, finally able to properly relax.

You couldn’t imagine what you would’ve done if something bad had happened. The thought of losing him was simply unbearable. Your eyes were heavy, and closing them felt like heaven within itself. You fully intended to return to your bunk when Mando arrived at the door, but for now you basked in the comfort of his bunk. In your hazed state, you let your mind drift on the worry you had felt, if you had lost him. It pained you more than you ever imagined. You hadn’t heard the door open, or did you hear him come into the small room. You only realized his presence when you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you tightly, and you felt the coolness of the beskar helmet behind your head. It was in that moment had you realized you were absolutely smitten. You smiled to yourself, happy he was unaware how awake you were so you could enjoy the moment in peace.

His skin was soft, and so were the palms of his hands when he rested them on top of your own-his thumb carefully grazing the metal of the ring. His arm rested over your body and you felt his body relax behind you. This was the closest you had ever been to the man. You can’t call the Mandolorian a hugger, so up until that moment, unless he needed to touch you to keep you safe, he had never touched you. Now it was such an intimate moment as he held you and the kid in his arms. As you both drifted off to sleep, you realized how much you were in love with the masked man behind you.

Mando doesn’t confess his feelings until the 211th day. The craziness of your life had calmed down, at least by the standards of a life led by a Mandolorian bounty hunter, his magical green son and you. It was like you both had fallen into a domestic routine, keeping up the ship and taking care of the kid. Mando hadn’t gone on a mission in the past two months. You got accustomed to him being around more, and in your own way, you all began to feel like a real family.

The kid was playing with some new toys Mando had just gotten him when he left for the day to get rations. He played on the floor of the cockpit, Mando watching him silently from his chair and you were curled up in yours reading a novel.

It was the silence that only comes when two people understand each other.

Family that he chose.

Could this be enough for you?

“(Y/N)?” He said hesitantly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the ship.

“Yes?” You ask, looking up from the book you had been reading. You place the bookmarker in and then set it on a nearby surface. “What is it?”

“I can’t expect you to stay here forever, and I couldn’t ever bring myself to ask you to,” He begins and then stops suddenly. You can’t tell how much he’s shaking under the Beskar. “But I just… I feel like you have the right to know… and I know they go unreciprocated, and I don’t expect a response.”

“I need to know what?” You ask quietly. You become nervous yourself, hoping he isn’t asking you to leave.

“I- I’m in love with you,” he confesses solemnly. The tension in the room for him rises, completely exposing his emotions to you fully, for the first time since he’s realized them. “And… there’s so many things you deserve that I can’t give you, and I know that. This life… this is so unstable, and dangerous. There’s so many constant threats… and (Y/N) I can vow to protect you with my whole life… and that I know still isn’t good enough. I know those dangers follow me no matter what. I know you couldn’t love a man you’d never seen and I know this isn’t enough. There’s so many things I can offer, except that I can never give you peace…”

“Mando- “

“My name is Din.”

“Din,” you correct yourself, and he loves the sound of his name on your lips.

“Din Djarin.”

“Din, I love you too,” you confess, “and I love your son. I love you both so much. How could you even think I wouldn’t want you?”

You can feel him become more at ease, and you can’t see his face, but Din is smiling, ear to ear. His face is red, flushed to match the feelings of complete joy which had overpowered him. He’d throw away the Creed, be done with everything if you asked in to in that moment. He’d do anything to keep you looking at him how you were looking at him.

He pulled off his gloves and discarded them on the floor. He rushed to your side, knelt down in front of you, holding your hands tightly in his, like if he’d let go, you’d vanish. His thumb grazed over the ring on your hand, like it did every night he held you close in his bunk.

“(Y/N), ni jate’kara,” he whispered softly, the emotion of his voice only vaguely distorted by the modulator. “gar yaim’ner. Please close your eyes, russ’ner.”

You closed your eyes, and you heard the clicks of his helmet. He placed it on the floor next to him. He cupped the side your face gently with one of his hands, taking a moment to take in your beauty for the first time without the digital screen. He sighed. You were so stunning, and he just took in exactly how you looked in that moment, determined to remember every small detail of your skin. When he was ready, he connected his lips to yours for a tender kiss, the first shared testament of the love you shared together.

[juliandev0rak]

Red Beetle

this was an anon request, my requests are open! 

The Main 6 react to MC remembering their real cause of death (hint: foul play)

MC finds out that Count Lucio is tied to the plague and is murdered by the courtiers* for knowing too much 🐞

*Volta was not involved bc she is a sweet cinnamon roll, too pure for this world

Asra

when you get the memories back he doesn’t want to believe it, he hates to think that you were in so much danger without him knowing

you remember the fear you felt as you entered the dungeon to find the courtiers waiting for you, the way the red beetle Valdemar forced down your throat felt going down

you’re trying to hide how horrified you are to realize how you died, but Asra can tell and immediately pulls you in for a tight hug, Faust wraps around your arm and gives a comforting squeeze

he’s horrified too, and furious though he’s not very surprised that Lucio was involved

he does his best not to show how upset he is because you need his comfort, but he wants to make sure Lucio pays for hurting you, if it were possible to kill a ghost he’d have done it already

he’s also angry at himself for not being there for you during the plague, if he’d only been there maybe he could have protected you 

as he holds you and tries to project calm through his aura he thinks about how proud he is of you and the magician you’ve become, you figured out the real cause of the plague and had very nearly succeeded in ending it

he’s just grateful he has a chance to help you this time around, and if it means he gets a chance to bring Lucio to justice along the way? sign him up 

Julian

the two of you are investigating the dungeons when you get the memories back, you found out that Lucio was involved in the plague and that stopping him was the key to stopping the illness

but then you remember how it ended, how you had raced down to the dungeons to tell Julian what you’d found only to find the courtiers waiting for you

Valdemar had desperately wanted to vivisect you but there hadn’t been time (luckily) and they’d had to settle for force feeding you a beetle and shipping you off to the Lazaret, you’d died of the plague but you definitely hadn’t caught it on your own

when Julian hears this he nearly breaks down, you’d been coming to him for help but he hadn’t been able to save you- he didn’t even know you needed saving

he remembers all of the times you’d told him that the plague might be magical in nature, but he didn’t believe you, he was a man of science after all and there had to be a logical explanation

he’s upset when he thinks about how you were so close to finding a cure but hadn’t been able to do anything about it and how his disbelief might have caused you, and many others, their lives

you pull him into your arms to distract him from his overthinking, and because you need the comfort

”We couldn’t do anything back then, but we can do something about it now!” you remind him 

”Don’t those beetles taste terrible?” he jokes, following it up with a dramatic vow to get revenge on Lucio and the courtiers, you know he’ll be fine

Nadia

when the real details of your death are revealed she’s livid, she hates that you were murdered in the palace and that she hadn’t known anything about it or been able to stop it

after the shock of getting your memories back dies down she immediately comforts you, asking how you are and offering you space if you need time to process 

she knows how hard it is to lose your memories and that, sometimes, getting them back is even more painful

when she learns more details she wants all of the courtiers tried for your murder

unfortunately the courtiers manage to mysteriously disappear before she can detain any of them, so you’ll all have to settle for the fact that their attempts to silence you failed in the end

she’s proud of your intellect and magical ability, not just anyone could’ve uncovered the truth about the plague 

even after you’ve come to terms with what you’ve learned she’s still careful to check in, she wants you to know that you’re safe and that nothing like that will ever happen again

Muriel

when you tell him what you remembered he’s, as always, pretty speechless

you tell him about the courtiers and the beetle and watch as his face pales, he hates to think of the fear you felt and how alone you’d been

he knows just how much Lucio can hurt someone and he hates that you’ve been scarred by him too, even indirectly

he isn’t great with words, but he holds your hands as you talk and you’re grateful for the safety you feel with him

he’s a great listener and will help you process through what happened, or at least offer you the space to do it

you might be weird but all he wants is to see you safe and happy, and even if that means facing Lucio he’s willing to do it

Inanna seems pretty excited that she might get a chance to take another bite out of Lucio

Portia

the second you finish telling her what you remembered she suffocates you in a hug, your comfort is her main priority

if you’re not somewhere safe and alone when you tell her about your memories she brings you somewhere else, preferably her cottage where she can make tea and you can pet Pepi

it’s hard for her to listen without asking questions or getting angry about what she’s hearing but she wants to understand what happened to you

she can hardly believe the truth of what you’ve told her, you’ve been investigating Lucio’s murder all this time when you should’ve been investigating your own

Portia’s furious at the courtiers and you have to restrain her from hunting them down immediately, her anger is intimidating but she’s no match for all of them working together

”They need to pay for what they did to you, MC!” 

she’s punched Lucio before and you better believe she’ll do it again!

she wants anyone who hurt you to face justice, you’ll never be hurt again if she has anything to say about it

Lucio

when you find out that the courtiers were the ones who killed you your eyes immediately turn to him, his expression is filled with guilt and confusion

”Lucio, did you know about this?” you ask, almost not wanting to know the answer

”I swear I didn’t order them to kill you, I had no idea who you even were back then!” he sputters, a hand reaching out to grab your shoulder

your first instinct is to flinch away but something in his expression makes you believe him, and your memories did only show the courtiers involvement

you don’t know what to make of this, knowing you’d died of the plague was one thing, but finding out that you’d been murdered? that’s even harder to wrap your head around

Lucio notices your indecision and moves his hand off of your shoulder, looking like he’s trying to find the right words to say

”If you say you weren’t involved in my death, I believe you.. I just need some time to think about all of this.” you sigh, reaching for his hand before he can move it further away

”I swear MC, I didn’t know what they were planning and I wish I could go back to stop it from happening. I know I’ve made a lot of… oopsies… I just need a chance to fix things if you’ll let me.” he says, his eyes filled with determination

”We’ll fix this together.”

[kirnet]

32 for benny/raiden!

32. things you said right after hello, taken from this prompt list here

1.8k words

Benita’s nailless fingers burned as she dug them into the guard’s cheeks, but she was well practiced at ignoring the pain.  It might have been more threatening if they hadn’t been ripped off one by one by the torturer a few minutes before; she could have clawed, drawn some blood to mix with the guard’s pitiful tears and mucus. But ultimately it didn’t matter. Her torturer lay dead on the floor of her cell, and if his sniveling was any indication, this guard knew exactly what she was capable of.

“P-Please,” he sniffled, bringing a hand up to grab Benita’s wrist. “I just work here! I have a -”

“The storage room,” she interrupted, her voice hoarse from all the screaming, barely audible over the blaring alarm. The guard whimpered as she pushed against his face. “Where is it?”

“And you’ll let me go?”

She didn’t deign to answer him, instead letting the light build behind her eyes. “I will not ask again.” 

Moments later Benita had her answer and the guard’s body lay spasming on the floor, the electric charge she had forced through his skin still making its way through his muscles. She dropped to her knees and rifled his service belt, passing over his firearm with disgust in favor of a pocket knife. It was much smaller than the spear that had been forged to fit perfectly in her hand, but she would make it work.

Pushing down the pang of sadness at the thought of her sacred weapon, she started down the corridor, her bare footsteps muted by the alarm. Anti-Themi reinforcements would be arriving soon, with Benita their top priority. If she wanted to leave this station alive, she would need what remained of her armor. With any luck, the prison break would engulf the whole station and her fellow escapees would be willing to give her a ride out of here.

And if not, she could make them.

Despite the urgency, she slowed as she passed her neighbor, Cell 46. It was open and empty. Odd. Hers had been the only other cell opened on this block, though most of the cells here were empty. This was the maximum security ward. The “Gallows,” as the guards had called it when they dragged her sedated body to the cell, was reserved for either the most dangerous inmates or the ones with the most information to be tortured out of them. Benita had the misfortune of belonging to both groups. Who escaped here?

She shook the thought away. Storage room. Armor. Spear. Escape. That was all that mattered.

The guard had spoken true, and soon Benita found herself at the down the hall from the storage room. The journey had been easier than expected. More and more detainment blocks opened as she moved, overwhelming any resistance she would face. The sedatives they kept her constantly pumped full of dulled her senses, but adrenaline and pure rage had given her enough power to dispatch any guard that had crossed her path. The knife has been abandoned, imbedded in an enemy’s chest. She had no more need for it. Not with her spear within reach.

“I need the-” 

“Could you hold on a fucking minute?”

Benita paused outside the ajar door. Guards? Or other prisoners?

“My father will hear about this.”

“Not if we’re all dead. But please, keep screaming and alerting any guards who weren’t already aware of us.” A new voice. So not guards. 

Remembering her hunting training, Benita silently inched the door open. The storage room was filled with stacks of crates, most of them carefully organized and arranged in aisles. The exception was in the middle of the room, where four people riffled through individual crates that had been brought down from the taller stacks. Two of them, a pale redhead woman and a dark haired Asian man, were dressed in ill-fitting guard uniforms. The other two, a beautiful dark-skinned woman in a lab coat and a tan man in the same prison jumpsuit that Benita wore, were quietly arguing as they searched. Recognition tingled at the back of her brain, but she couldn’t quite place where she knew the other prisoner from.

The redhead gasped and pulled something from the crate, the excitement on her face falling as she held it up. “It’s a… cylinder?” 

The light surged behind her eyes again, matching Benita’s rage. A cylinder? It might appear as such to the ignorant, but that weapon had been created by the finest Justiciar craftsmen for- Benny relaxed her fist. This should not matter to her anymore. She had forfeited all claims to any Themi glory. Still, she wanted the spear back.

Dropping low, she stalked forward behind the redhead, the others too invested in their own tasks to notice. Rising, Benita wrapped her arm around the redhead’s throat, her arm just short of crushing her windpipe. Her victim gasped and dropped the collapsed spear, which Benita snatched from the air with her free hand. Sucking in a breath of her own, she tucked the spear under her arm and pressed her palm against the woman’s head. Her companions seemed not to have noticed, their noses still in their respective crates. “If you comply, I will not harm you,” she whispered in the captive’s ear. She could feel her heart hammering through her throat.

The man in front of them, still seemingly unaware of her presence, gasped and tore something from the crate. “Holy shit,” he muttered as he held it aloft. Benita’s grip tightened on the woman’s neck. In his hands was a light breastplate scarred by both blaster bolt and spearpoint. To Benita’s relief, the small orange nodes on the shoulder straps seemed to be intact.

Ignoring the sudden heaviness of her body, Benita cleared her throat. “Excuse me?”

The dark haired man jumped, but to his credit, he recovered quickly. He turned smoothly on his heel, a hand inching towards his sidearm. “Well,” he looked her up and down, an audacious smirk forming on his lips. “Hello, there”

“If you want your friend to live,” Benita rasped. “Put that down, along with your rifle.” She shot a glance at the other woman. “And anything that you have.”

“You’re not seriously going to-” the woman in the lab coat silenced as the man gently set the mangled breastplate down, then removed his rifle sling and side arm. His smile remained, though Benita noticed that his hands trembled as he brought them up from the weapons. Good. So he knows what I am.

“It’s alright, Doc.” The man leaned back on the crate as the doctor dropped her weapon, his hands still in the air. “It’s ok, Esther. She won’t hurt you.”

“You sure about that, Raiden?” the redhead - Esther- croaked feebly against Benita’s arm. 

Raiden raised his hand to silence whatever outburst the other prisoner was about to make. “Oh, sure. If she wants off this station, why would she kill our star pilot?” His smirk grew wider.

Benita scowled. She released Esther, who fell to the floor gasping. The doctor rushed forward, dropping to the ground and gently checking her throat. Benita ignored them, pushing past Raiden and snatching up the breastplate. She had to force herself put it on slowly. “You are responsible for the prison break?”

“Yeah. Thanks for being such a great distraction. They’re scrambling to find you.” Despite Raiden’s relaxed pose, Benita could feel the tension radiating off him. He unclenched his jaw. “So where’s the rest of the armor?”

She slipped the breastplate over her head. Despite the added weight on her shoulders, she felt lighter than she had in...weeks? Months? When had she first been captured? She shook her head. That wasn’t important right now. What was important was how much this man knew of her. Few uninitiated could distinguish the truth of the Themi from their bloated mythology. Fewer still could identify one on sight. “Whatever you think you know of the Themi-” 

“I know enough to strike a deal.” He turned to her fully now, sparing a glance at Esther as she got off the floor. “I need to be somewhere else. These guys need to get to the ship safely, and I can’t be there to protect them.” His companion’s protested, the other prisoner the loudest, but Raiden just leaned in closer. “We have a ship in the hangar and one hell of a pilot. Get these two and our cargo,” he nodded towards the prisoner, “through any guards or prisoners and we’ll drop you off on some backwater colony. You can start over.”

Tempting, but...“And stoop to your level?” Benita palmed the spear, grateful for its comforting weight. “Why should I help you escape with him?” She closed in on the prisoner, the “46″ visible on his chest as he backed away from her. Ah yes, I remember now. “Don Lepora’s son, no? I am certain the Themi have a warrant out for your execution.” She tapped him on the chest with the collapsed spear, tilting her head as he whimpered. “I could do it right now,” she growled.

“And I’m sure you would if you were still a Themi, right?” Raiden slung his rifle strap back over his torso, ignoring Benita’s glower. “Oh, come on. No armor and you’re in prison? You’re just as bad as the rest of us.” His scruffy face suddenly changed, smile dropping. He pulled the glove off of one hand and extended it towards her. “You could put that behind you. Or at least escape the torture.”

The Themi code was quite clear about how to proceed. She should kill Raiden, then Lepora, then the other two women, then everyone on the damned prison station. There would be no redemption, no exceptions, just pure justice. But Raiden was right: despite the code’s persistent hold on her, she was no longer a Themi. She had spat on their code and spurned their traditions. Now she was nothing but a common thug, naked without her power armor. Perhaps this was her divine punishment.

She took his hand, her bloody fingers staining his own as she squeezed. “I will escort them.” Raiden had the audacity to wink.

She would hold up her end of the bargain, that much was only honorable. And she would go as far as that ship would take her from this accursed station. But one thing was clear to Benita as she unsheathed the spear from its collapsed state: this man was her enemy.

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Being Johnny’s girlfriend, after what he did and what happened to you, he can’t leave you alone anymore

Authors Note: This was from my Wattpad book that hasn’t been released yet and so I thought I could do a few on Tumblr I’m not good writing stories yet but I’ll get there

"I think that was a success," Johnny says, his arm sliding behind her back as he leaned down and kissed her head. Y/N smiled, "Every date we have is not bad, they're always a success." He smiled proudly, "You can thank your awesome boyfriend for that."

Johnny Storm, he's her boyfriend. The Human Torch, she'd expect him to have his way with her before he heads off for another girl but he stayed with her. He loves to have Y/N around. Especially his sister, Susan. Her husband, Richard also liked to her in the Baxter building. Y/N never treated Ben like the others out there when he first became solid rock.

Most of the people in the city would die to be in the building, but Y/N was just happy to be there like she didn't know they were superheroes.

She wasn't crazy about it, she treated them as if they are human beings, which they are and they loved her for that. Everyone else treats them as if they're their new rulers or whatever, treat them as celebrities.

Y/N started dating Johnny a month after he got his abilities. Of course the team would always find a way to protect her.

"Did you want something or do you want to go to bed?" Johnny asked, Y/N looks over to the kitchen. "I want to lay in bed. Also, it's freezing in here," Y/N rubbed her arms. Johnny laughs lightly, "Let's get you into bed then."

Johnny scoops her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. She got into comfy clothes and she got into bed with him. His hand gently touched her shoulder, "You aren't kidding, you're freezing. Come here." His arm goes over her and he pulls her into his bare chest.

The warm feeling on him was just like being next to a fire.

The two fall asleep in each other's arms.

Reed rushes through the building after a breakout of a huge explosion on the news. He runs by Susan, "Where's Johnny?" He asked. "He might be in his room!" Susan rushed to get her suit on while Reed runs for Johnny's room.

Opening the door, the hallway light shines into the small dimmed room with Y/N in Johnny's arms. Reed sighs softly at the two and the sudden light shining on Johnny's face caused him to wake up. His sleepy face altered when he spots Reed in his suit. "What's going on?"

"There's a breakout in one of the buildings. We got to go."

Johnny looks at Y/N who was sleeping and gently got out of bed. He tucked her in and followed Reed. "Do we know who it is?"

"No, not yet, we do."

Susan, Ben, Reed and Johnny all rush out to the break out in the city, leaving Y/N in the Baxter building alone.

Ben was catching the cars that were flying across the bridge from the rival, Reed was quickly holding the car that was hanging off the bridge before Ben comes over and helps him up. "We need to keep this guy off the streets, he's gonna toss everything out of his way. If he reaches to the city, everything would be pretty."

The two men jump when Johnny flies over to the rival and swings towards his face. The man catches his fist and smiled, "The Human Torch."

Johnny grits his teeth and he goes up in flames, the singe on his hand never burned from the heat of Johnny's fist. "I don't work like that," The man grabs Johnny by his throat with his other hand and throws him against the car's window.

Susan runs up, "Johnny!" The man turns and lifts up a car and throws it at her. She raises her hands up and uses her shield to block the car's impact. The man laughs, "You are all no match for me. The Fantastic Four will fall at our feet. You all will--" The man falls to the ground when Johnny comes up behind and hits him in the back of the head.

He drops the bar on the ground, panting. "You all what?" He asked. Reed comes up to the man who was staring at the heroes before him, before Reed tugs him up and jerks him forward.

The man laughs. "Who are you?"

The man continues to laugh as he looks over to them, "You're just wasting your time on me when you should be somewhere else. I'm useless to you guys anyway."

"What do you mean?"

The man turns to Johnny, "Like I said, the Fantastic Four will fall at our feet."

"Who's our? Who do you work for?" Reed asked. Johnny looked over to the Baxter building. "Y/N."

Susan realizes what the man meant, "Johnny go to her, now!" Johnny goes up in flames and flies up.

I woke up to a cold room and turned over to see no one in bed. I sat up, "Johnny?" I walked out of the bedroom to a complete empty penthouse and lab. I rubbed my eyes and looked over to the window.

"You know..." Someone spoke, I gasp as I turned around to see a man, "I never thought I'd be up in this building. The Fantastic Four," The man looks around the room, "Such a great team. But you know, sometimes teams would have to come to an end." He steps into the light and I saw the huge scar on his eye.

"And today is the end of the Fantastic Four," He walks up to me and grabs my throat, I choked. "Your precious team isn't on their way here, because they're busy right now on the Brooklyn Bridge." The man and I glance over to the bridge that was smoking.

"So, it's just you and I."

"Think again," Johnny spoke. The man turns to see Johnny stand behind them. The man's smile rose, "Ah. Look who's here to join the party."

"Let her go," Johnny says.

The man pouts, "This is just half of the fun, Mr. Storm." He held me up higher as I grasped onto his wrists and tried to pull him away. "We can no longer wait for your team so we'll just have to..." His hand tightens around me throat and I gasped.

"Let her go!" Johnny flies forward and pushes the man back, up in flames he punches the man over and he lets go of me. I coughed as the man and Johnny began to fight around the lab, glass shattering and monitors sparking.

I slowly stood up and saw Johnny get shoved into the wall, "Jonathan!" The man throws his arm out to me and I felt a force push me back through the glass and hitting a monitor behind me.

Johnny watched as he sees Y/N fly into the generators and hits the ground, not moving. "No!" Johnny used all his strength to pull the man's arms away from him and kicks his leg, getting the advantage to whip behind the man and throw him over into the floor.

"Johnny!" Susan runs over and the man crawled against the ground. "You'll... fall... you all... will..." He wheezed, Susan held her hands up to wait for some movement of an attack before Johnny kicks him across the face.

Panting, he turns to Y/N and Reed. Her body on the ground as Reed was looking at her. "Y/N!"

The ambulance siren goes off.

Y/N was pulled into the hospital. No any signs of anything that they proven she was alive. The medic in the back opened her left eye to show the clouded star-shape form in her eye. "She has a cataract form in her left eye, the right one's clear." The man flashes the light in her eyes. Parts of her arms and hands were burn from the voltage from the machines she crashed into.

Her head was their main priority, there was a bleeding to her head and they're guessing she might be close to death if that machine she hit was high voltage.

An hour had passed and Johnny sat outside in the lobby along with Susan, Reed and Ben. All four of them waiting on the news for Y/N. His sister rubbing his shoulders as he was leaned forward holding his head. "She's gonna be okay, Johnny."

"It's my fault..." He says.

Susan looks at Reed. He looks down a Johnny, "Johnny, it wasn't your fault. None of us would've gotten there sooner. And where she was, she was safe. We didn't know what was gonna happen."

"Either way, we all screwed up," He says.

The doors open to the doctor causing all four of them to look over, Johnny standing up. The doctor sighed, "There's no other way to put this through."

"Is she okay?" Johnny asked, "Can I see her?"

"Johnny," Susan softly says.

The doctor looks down at the woman, "Miss L/N is suffering from a traumatic head injury. With that, she'll be in a coma. I'm sorry," The doctors says, "Other than that, she was lucky to not die on the spot from high voltage in the building, but she has burns and a cataract in her left eye so she'll have blurry vision in that eye."

"Are we okay to see her, now?" Susan asked, standing up with Reed as she gently grasped Johnny's arm.

The doctor nods, "You're all welcome to be in there." The doctors takes the four to the room, the room was dimly lit and the sounds of the heart rate monitor beep every few seconds as Johnny was the first to meet his girl in the bed. He sits down next to her.

Susan and Reed sit on the other side of her bed while Ben stood at the end of her bed. "You can talk to her, Johnny," Susan says.

Johnny looks over to his sister and shakes his head, "It's not the same." That's what all he said to them. No one else spoke but listened to the even beeps of her heart monitor going off in the room. An hour later, Johnny was the only one left in the room.

His head rested on her arm, the small roughness of her skin from the burns of the incident he placed kisses on earlier. He pulled away from her arm and looked at her. Tears began to form in his eyes, "I don't know how long you'll be stuck in this..." His lips pierced together before he licked his dried lips, "But I want you to know, that I love you... so much. I planned to propose to you in a few months. I don't know if I should give you the ring now or not, but..."

He looks down to his hand on his lap, playing with the silver band with a diamond on it. "I'll let you choose the day." He placed the ring on the stand next to her bed, the light shining on it he sniffled.

Grasping her hand one last time, he turns to the light beside him that was flickering. Thinking it was just a small problem, he stands up and walks out of the room, giving her a kiss on her forehead and closed the door to her room.

Her fingers twitched and the lamp flickered once again. The small sparks coming off her fingers as the light cuts out and she lies there in darkness.

Two days later. . .

The news on the television was on as the sounds of scrapping and chewing. Susan walking around the kitchen to make her some food while Ben was eating a huge bowl of cereal while Johnny was picking at his, sadly taking small spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth as he stared down at his bowl.

Susan glanced over to Ben who looked at her as well, both looking towards the human torch at the table, staring at his bowl.

Susan turns away and pulls something from the cabinet. "Are you gonna visit the hospital today, John?" She asked, the small silence made her turn around to at least make him look at her and respond.

He shifts now, finally taking a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. She forgets what she said and turns away, just best to leave him alone. The silence grew and Johnny saw the incident from two days ago on the news.

"The incident in the Baxter's building, a man named Dennis Baldric and Jack Killian were both arrested on that day. One victim who appeared to be in a come due to a traumatic  head injury, Y/N L/N, the Human Torch's loved one who was--" The loud screech of a chair being pulled out was the movement of Johnny standing up and dumped his cereal into the sink before storming into his room.

Susan flinched at the sound of his door bang. Ben looks away from his door and looks back at the TV.

Sighing, she continued to make her breakfast.

Y/N still lied still in her bed as the heart monitor beeped throughout the room. The nurse recently checked up on her before leaving the room with the lights on for guests who may come. The light flickered once again. This time, it buzzed loudly. Her heart monitor began to beep rapidly as well, her body twitched. Fingers giving off electric bolts and her chest bounces up as if someone used a defibrillator and shouted, "Clear!" Her chest jolts up and the heart monitor makes a continuous beep, her body falls back to the bed and the light's bulb had finally popped.

The hospital lost its power as well.

Susan was on her way to check on Y/N since Johnny was too upset to go. Flowers in hand, she began to walk up to the hospital, nurses and doctors began to rush around. Worriedly, Susan rushes in. The front desk had a woman speaking towards the visitors, "Excuse me? What's going on?"

"The power went out around the hospital, we're still allowing visitors for the patients but we're more worried about the patients who need help, right now, they're working on our generators. You must be Susan Richard."

"Yes, I'm here for Y/N L/N."

The woman nods, "Go on right ahead." Sue rushes to the woman's room, doctors and nurses rushing pass her as she reaches the floor to Y/N's room.

She opens the door and closes it without glancing at the bed yet. She peaks through the blinds on the door and turns to the bed. Sue gasps and the flowers in her hands fall to the ground as she looks at the empty bed.

The sheets were shuffled as if someone moved her. The nurse would've told her if they moved her to another room. A hand goes over her mouth as she quickly pulls out her phone.

"Hello?" Reed asks.

"Reed, I'm at the hospital and--"

"Oh, okay, how's Y/N? Wait, what's going on?" He asked, Sue looks at the bed again to see if she was dreaming it but Y/N wasn't there. "Y/N's gone, I'm in her room and I don't see her, I don't know if they moved her but they should've told us and--"

"Wait, she's not there? As in, not in the bed? Is she awake?"

"I don't know."

Johnny sat in his bed, hands in his hair as he tugged on them. He hears the small outbursts in the other room.

"Wait, what's going on, Sue?"

Johnny tilts his head, "She's not there? Have-Have you checked the nurse to see if they moved her?" He hears Reeds voice. "Sue, you're saying she's not in bed? Is she awake?" Johnny's head shot up as he jumps out of his bed and grabs his leather jacket. The sound of Johnny's door being pulled open, Ben and Reed turn to the man rushing out.

"Johnny!" Reed calls, he turns around the corner to see the elevator doors close. Reed goes back to the phone, "Johnny's coming, we're on our way."

The top part of the building was abandoned and it was mostly falling apart. The doors were old and the windows were completely dirty. The lights flickered as the woman in the hospital gown limps down the hall, whimpering.

Her hands twitching to the sparks in her hands, flinching every now and then to the sudden action. Y/N stumble over something and falls onto her knees, she sobs.

Johnny pushes into the room to see Sue and a nurse talking to each other. "Can you find ways to get into your surveillance cameras?"

"Mrs. Richards, we're already on the power, once it's back online we can go through them--"

"Where is she?" Johnny asked, the nurse turns to the man. "We don't know."

"Is there any way she could get out?" Sue asked as Johnny turns away in frustration. "We have security and our staff would know if someone was leaving the hospital or taking anyone without having those patients checked-out."

"So, she's still in the building?" Johnny asked.

"Mostly likely, yes." Johnny got the answer and rushed out of the room. "Johnny!" Sue follows him out and runs int Reed, "Sue, woah, what's going on? Where's she?"

"She might still be in the building, where did Johnny go?"

"He went to the elevator," Ben says, Sue and the men follow her to the elevator. They look up to the numbers up top. "He went to the top floor."

"Isn't the top floor abandoned, though?" Ben asked, Reed hits the button, "It's empty but a good place for someone to hide, someone to be alone in."

The elevator dings.

Johnny steps out of the elevator and looks down the hall to see the lights flicker. "Well, that's not creepy at all." He walks down the hall slowly and carefully. "Y/N? Are you up here?" Johnny looks into every room, he passes by. "It's Johnny. Your boyfriend," He flinched when the light above him shatters and he crouches down and covers his head.

He shrugs off the glass, "Y/N?" He calls.

At the end of the hall, he sees a shadow. A similar figure and his shoulders drop. "Y/N..."

"Jonathan?" Her soft voice echoes. He smiles to her voice and began to rush up till she held up her hand.

"No! Don't come any closer! I don't wanna hurt you!" She shouts, Johnny stops and makes a confused expression. "Y/N, baby, you're not gonna hurt me."

"No, I'm..." Y/N looks at her hands and the two noticed the volts in her hands, the bright blue sparks emitting from her fingertips. They run through her veins. Johnny stared in awe, "Y/N, it's okay."

"Am I okay?" She asked, she was on the edge of tears. Johnny slowly took small steps, "It's okay. We're gonna figure it out."

Johnny held his hand out, "It's okay."

Y/N slowly stepped into the hall, Johnny smiles, "That's it." She slowly walked up to him, "It's okay. I'm here." Once she reached to him, she pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapping around her just as tight as she was doing, he nuzzled his face into her hair.

Sue, Reed and Ben stood at the other end. "She's awake," Reed says. The three walk up to the couple, Y/N was pulled into a group hug. Still holding onto Johnny, she muttered, "Yes." Johnny and the three pull away. "What?" He asked.

Y/N reached down and laced her fingers with his, he glanced at her finger to see the diamond ring. "Yes." Johnny smiles down at her and lifts her up into another hug. The three smiling at them before they gave hugs separately to the two.

After a day, Y/N was brought back home. In the bathroom, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body before standing in the mirror.

She leans forward and reaches for her left eye, the blurry vision wasn't as bad. With the abilities she has, it was slightly healed. Every now and then, being around outlets and cables, her left eye glows bright blue due to the cataract in her eye.

Every now and then, Johnny would gaze into that eye. It was bad to the point it was scary for children, it healed but it felt like it was just a scarring in your eye and you could barely see it unless you've shined a light into your eye or she uses her power.

This was just a spark of hope.

Thank you for spending your time on reading! I didn’t really have much time to get some details in or anything, I’m not really good but it’s something I wanted to show off to you guys and show you what comes next in the future!

Not sure if I should take requests, but if you want send them in, maybe I’ll give it a try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAGS:

I wanted to tag a few people who are really good writers or beautiful people! You guys don’t know me, some do but it’s something nice to do! Keep up the good work! Hope your guys days are doing okay!

@jtargaryen18 @definitelycurtiseverett @chris-evans-imagines @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @luvinchris

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Present Tense

Just a couple of years back, the prickling in the back of his neck would have certainly told him that something was wrong. He would have gone into fighting-mode instantly because he would have known that there was another danger coming. The island had held too many of those, do much more than Oliver had thought when he had landed there at first.

Now, things were different though. All the years of being part of a family and living in a mostly safe environment had helped him to be more relaxed. He knew there was a difference between good nervousness and bad nervousness now, and he had actually grown to be quite good at distinguishing between them.

What he was feeling now was a good kind of nervousness. He knew that because the prickling in the back of his neck was feeling like he was tickled with a feather, not like needles stabbing him again and again. The feeling ran up and down his back like a soft wave, feeling so very light and making him feel so very light. He didn’t feel like his life was trying to bury him alive anymore. He was feeling it was uplifting him if he only let it happen.

Only a short moment passed before Felicity’s lips brushed against his shoulder blade. He couldn’t prevent from smiling, knowing that this – being woken up by soft kisses – was his life, but he did his best to bite back his smile. He wanted to keep pretending that he was still asleep because he knew that chaste kiss against his shoulder blade was only the beginning.

As if she had been reading his mind, Felicity moved her lips down his back a little. She peppered a trail of soft kisses to the middle of his back and down to the burn scar on his lower back. It had been one of the last scars that he had gotten before he had escaped the island once and for all and finally gotten on a boat back home. Oliver didn’t know if it was that or just the sensation of the scar beneath her lips and fingertips, but Felicity had a thing for that scar.

Her lips brushed against it again and again. He could almost feel her exploring it from the start once more. She was taking in every inch, using her sensitive lips to make sure she remembered every detail. Her fingers rubbed against the skin over his hip like she wanted to comfort him from the trauma he had been put through even though that had been years ago.

When her tongue moved out and stroked against the riffled skin so very gently, Oliver couldn’t contain a soft sigh. He moved his face into the pillow immediately, but he knew that he had been caught. The way Felicity hesitated with her lips hovering right above his scar and her fingers digging a little deeper into his skin told Oliver that she had caught him. She knew that he was awake. She had probably known it before because she just knew him so well.

Felicity knew him better than anyone else knew him which was part of the reason why he felt so content and safe around her. He knew that he didn’t have to hide around her. With her right there, he could just be who he was which he had never been able to do before in his life. No other person had always made him feel like he could say and do whatever he thought he should and not be reproached for it later. She would never look at him like he was crazy or hold it against him. She would always respect his thoughts and feelings. She would always love him, no matter what.

It was the last thought that made it unable to bite back a smile any longer. Oliver loved and was loved. It was a privilege that he would never take for granted. He would never take Felicity for granted.

He turned his head back, so his cheek was resting in the pillow again. He smiled openly now, but he kept his eyes closed nonetheless, so he could continue Felicity’s touches.

Felicity moved her lips up his spine, leaving a trail of gentle kisses on his skin. When she reached the nape of his neck, she continued the way to the side of his neck. She placed her lips against his pulse point for a long moment. He could almost feel her pulse echo his through her lips. He knew it was crazy, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Good morning, birthday boy.”

The way Felicity’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear while whispering the few words as well as the way she pressed her body against his back made Oliver release another deep sigh. He let his hand travel to Felicity’s hand on his bicep and lifted it to his lips after that. He placed a firm kiss to the palm of her hand before he held her hand to his stubbled cheek and snuggled his face into her touch.

“Good morning, birthday boy’s wife.”

“Birthday boy’s wife.” Felicity hummed. “I like the sound of that.”

Oliver smiled to himself. Loving and being loved had enriched his life so much more than he could have possibly hoped for. He was happier than he had ever been in his life, and Felicity was the main reason for it. She had been the one person to bring all that joy and happiness into his life. Without her, he would probably still be the guy that brooded alone in the dark basement beneath a nightclub.

At that thought, Oliver turned around in bed until he was lying on his back. His eyes found Felicity’s face and took it in. She was wearing a dress in red which was their color. Her hair was already tied up into a high ponytail and her glasses were sitting on top of her head. She was ready to head out for work.

Oliver frowned slightly. “How did you manage to escape the bed and stay away from it for so long without waking me up?”

Usually, Oliver slept on top of Felicity which already made it close to impossible for her to disappear without him noticing. Sometimes, when he rolled off of her during sleep, she managed to move to the edge of the mattress before he woke up and could pull her back to bed. Most times, he was the one waking up first though, so he headed out for quick run to give Felicity a little bit more time to sleep before he woke her with a dozen of kisses to her face and her neck.

“You were just so peacefully asleep that you didn’t notice, I guess.” Felicity pecked his lips briefly. “Lucky me because that way I could let you sleep a little longer on your day off and surprise you with this.”

She lifted a cupcake with a single candle stuck in the topping. The flame was moving slightly when she brought it closer towards his lips.

“Make a wish.”

Oliver looked from the dancing flame to Felicity’s face once more. She was smiling with her bottom lip caught between her front teeth.

Smiling, Oliver watched her face. She was excited about her surprise. It might seem like it was only a little gesture, but it meant the world to him. Since he had grown up as the son of billionaires, mercenary good usually didn’t mean as much to him. He had always been able to buy himself everything he wanted, so the small, unbuyable things were the ones he loved the most now.

“I don’t know what I could possibly wish for.”

Felicity perked up one single wary eyebrow. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

Oliver looked at Felicity intensely. He had her and the family they had built together. What else could he possibly want?

“I’ve got you.” Oliver stroked his hand and up down Felicity’s thigh beneath the fabric of her dress, and he could feel the goosebumps spreading there even through the tights she was wearing. “I’ve got our children. All of us love each other, and we are healthy and happy. What else could I want in life?”

Felicity smiled softly and put her hand to his cheek. The way her thumb was stroking through his stubble slowly told Oliver that his words touched her. She loved that their family was his first priority although it certainly didn’t come as a surprise for her. She had known that for a long time already. His words made her a little bit sad too though because she was sure that every other person would know what to wish for. Even with a perfectly good life, people always knew something that could make it a little bit more perfect.

Puckering her lips, Felicity looked at the flame eventually. She narrowed her eyes a little then and looked at Oliver.

“Can you kill the flame without blowing?”

Oliver snorted. Sometimes he forgot how far away from reality his five years away from home must be for everyone else. Then Felicity or anyone really said something or reacted to something he had said, and it became clear that normal people – people that hadn’t experienced that abnormal hell he had been caught in – thought very different from what he was thinking.

With his eyes still locked on Felicity, he licked his thumb and forefinger and simply pushed down onto the wick. It only took like the break of a second for the flame to suffocate, but Oliver kept his fingers against the hot wick nonetheless. Felicity scrunched up her nose.

When Oliver only chuckled, she grabbed his wrist and lifted his hand to her eyes. She pushed his thumb and forefinger apart with hers, so she could take a look at it. Her nose scrunched up even more at the sight of the soot his fingertips had gathered from the wick. She lowered her lips to his fingers and brushed her lips against them soothingly then. Oliver hadn’t felt any pain, but he knew that, if he had, it would be gone now. Felicity had that kind of magic.

Once she lowered their joint fingers to her lap, she smiled at him. Her fingers tightened around his, squeezing them briefly.

“So what about my birthday wish now?”

Felicity smiled at his question. She held his hand in both of hers. Her fingers rubbed against the metal of his wedding band, spinning it around his finger like they usually did with her own ring when she was nervous. That she was doing it with his ring now made him smile even more than he had been smiling already.

“Since you didn’t blow out the candle,” she told him, “you can light it up again whenever you want, and you can still make your birthday wish. So, enjoy your cupcake for breakfast, but keep the candle somewhere close. If you get an idea, you can always light it back up, and you still got your wish.”

Oliver loved that thought, but he still cocked his head and asked, “Where did you read that?”

“It just came to my mind.” Felicity smiled proudly. “I mean a birthday candle is candle that is lightened on a person’s birthday and it’s supposed to fulfill the wish of a person once that person blows out the flame. We lightened up the candle, but you didn’t blow it out. Hence, the wish has to be saved.”

“That’s very smart.”

“Well, a genius talking here.”

Oliver smiled, not doubting any of her logic or her words. Felicity was by far the smartest person he knew. She wasn’t only an expert in the IT-area. She also knew a lot about science in general, and her quick apprehension allowed her to understand basically everything she wanted to understand within a short span of time.

Hooking a finger into the neckline of Felicity’s dress, Oliver pulled her down towards him. His lips captured hers into a soft kiss that made Felicity sigh. She shifted her weight a little, so she could prop herself up onto one forearm, and deepened the kiss. Her tongue stroked against his, while her free hand moved into his hair.

Felicity’s kisses had the power to be addictive. For Oliver, they surely were. He couldn’t get enough of them. No matter how many years they had been kissing each other already and how many kisses he had gotten in a day, he would never reject another one. There just couldn’t be enough kisses for him.

When Oliver’s fingers moved down Felicity’s body and started pushing the hem of her dress up her legs, Felicity pulled back with a groan though. She put her hand over his and pushed it away with an apologetic smile. Oliver frowned and scrunched up his nose.

“I can’t.”

Oliver’s frown deepened even more. “What do you mean? It’s my birthday. Birthdays are there for birthday sex.”

“I know.” With a mixture of a chuckle and a groan, Felicity leaned forward and kissed his lips once more. “And we will have all the good birthday sex tonight which means that, while I will head to work, you will have a great day to spend with the kids. Then you take them to my mom, who will babysit them tonight, and we are going to screw each other’s brain out all night until either of us passed out.”

“Either of us.”

“Probably me.” Felicity chuckled. “Most certainly me.”

Oliver grinned. “Promising.”

“You have no idea. I have so many plans for us, and I need you in best form. So, Mr. Queen, please make sure you are hydrated, rested and motivated. Energy is the key.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Oliver grinned. “I am looking forward to finding out what you have in store for us, Mrs. Queen.”

Chuckling slightly, Felicity cupped Oliver’s jaw and placed another firm kiss on his lips before she pulled back and crawled off the bed. She placed his birthday cupcake onto the nightstand and slipped into her shoes while she was hopping towards the door. She was probably running late already.

“I will be here around seven.”

“Should I cook?”

“It’s your birthday.” Felicity rolled her eyes like that idea was just crazy or stupid or maybe even both. “You should spend the day having fun doing whatever you want to do. Don’t bother about cooking. I will bring takeout. What do you want?”

“Surprise me. Just no junk food.”

“Party pooper.”

“It’s my party, so I can poop on it as much as I want to.”

Felicity chuckled. She already had the door handle in her hand when she turned back and came running to the back once more. She placed another three kisses to his lips before she turned away with a groan.

“I really gotta go.”

“So go,” Oliver whispered, put his hands to the back of her head and pulled her down to him gently, so he could kiss her lips gently one last time, “I can’t wait for you to come back though.”

“Neither can I.”

With one last kiss, she crawled out of bed again. At the door, she turned around towards him once more, shooting him a smile, only a moment later she slipped out of the room though.

Oliver smiled to himself. He felt like he was happier with every new birthday. The older he got, the more content he grew to be with his life and the decisions he had made.

Today was going to be a good day and the start of another great year in his life. Oliver could feel it.

 → → → → →

 Humming Shania Twain’s You’re still the one that he had been listening to on repeat now, Oliver lighted the candles on the table.

It was their song, at least in some way. The lyrics just reminded Oliver of him and Felicity because, just like the song said, she was still the one for him. Nothing would ever change that. That they had been dancing to this song in the middle of the night a couple of times when Oliver had felt unsafe and haunted by his demons, was only the little cherry on top.

There was a giant smile on his lips, and Oliver wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed about it. He was a huge dork when it came to his marriage. Despite everything he had believed when he had been growing up, he really loved being married. He loved being a husband as much as he loved having a wife. Just the feeling of coming home to someone who loved and you having someone to come home to you meant the world to him already.

Oliver leaned back against the edge of the kitchen counter and looked at the romantic setting he had prepared for him and Felicity. Although she had told him that it was his birthday which meant as much as that he should just lean back and let her take care of this day. Usually, Oliver wouldn’t mess with Felicity’s opinion, but he just loved preparing romantic surprises.

What better gift could be given to him than to see Felicity smile with surprise and love, knowing that their tradition meant as much to him as it meant to her. They called it birthday sex which could sound cheap and like monotonous, self-imposed sex that didn’t come from the heart. That was so incredibly far from the truth though.

As working parents of five kids by day and vigilantes by night, they really had their hands full. There were times when they could barely squeeze a quickie into their week. They both kind of hated it because sex meant so much to them and their marriage, but they got along with it because there were so many other ways to feed their love and hunger for each other.

During special occasions – and birthdays certainly served as such – they just decided beforehand already that they were going to have sex. It was something to be excited about because they knew that, even if it ended up being a quickie at the end after all, they were going to have sex. It just offered a special kind of excitement.

That being said, neither of them would ever enforce this sex. If it didn’t happen because there was no time or either of them wasn’t in the mood, they would just skip it, and it wouldn’t be a problem either. As far as Oliver remembered that had never happened though.

To add a little atmosphere to the long hours they would spend making love tonight, Oliver had set the table for their dinner. They could eat whatever food Felicity would bring, and he could massage her feet while she was telling him about her day. She needed that after long days of work, especially since she had a lot on her plate right now.

The company was going great, almost too great. Felicity barely knew where her head was. She was doing great though, much better than he could have done if he was still CEO. It just proved once more how many right decisions he and Felicity had made since they had been getting together. They just matched like two pieces of a puzzle, or maybe more like to pieces of two puzzles that magically fitted together nonetheless.

He thought about that comparison with a smile, realizing how right he really was. A couple of years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to say anything like that. He wouldn’t have known the right words. Felicity’s smartness was rubbing off at him it seemed though, and her love even made him a little bit poetic.

Looking at his watch, Oliver sighed. It was already ten minutes after seven, so Felicity had probably had trouble to make a cut at work. She often had trouble with that because she just loved her work so much and she felt so responsible for the company as well as the people working there and the possible successes that they could make to help people. She wanted to achieve the best she could to help people as much and as fast as she possibly could and to show the people that were working for her the good their work was doing.

Felicity was unique when it came to that Oliver guessed. At least he hadn’t met someone quite as kind as her, and he doubted that he ever would. Because of that, he had no problem to wait for her, even if it took a little bit longer.

When his phone rang, he grabbed it and took a quick look at the display. Felicity’s sleepy face was smiling at him, and Oliver felt his heart jumping into his throat. It was almost a little stupid, but he couldn’t lose the feeling that sometimes, when he was thinking about Felicity a lot, she was suddenly thinking about him too. Right now, it felt like that too. She had sensed that he had been thinking about her which was why he was calling her now.

“Hey,” he said softly as soon as he had taken the call, “the birthday boy is already prepared for all mischief you have planned and-“

There was a noise in the line that made Oliver frown. He lowered the phone for a moment, checking if the connection had broken, but the call was still going. He guessed after the earthquake a couple of weeks ago, not everything was back to work the way it should be. Once he was back in the office after his mini-vacation, he should take care of this.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he was about to ask her where exactly she was, but he didn’t get a chance to.

“Happy birthday, Oliver.”

Oliver felt his blood freezing in his veins. His muscles that had been so relaxed after the peaceful day with his kids gained a lot of tension. Goosebumps spread all of his skin, and it heart was about to start chasing, but Oliver got a handle on himself rather quickly. His body went into fighting-mode.

After all the years of fighting criminals, Oliver had made uncountable enemies. Some of them were worse than others, and Oliver was sure that there were enemies he didn’t even know about yet. Still, he tried to figure out if he remembered that dark, cold voice that had greeted him. In some dark, distant corner of his brain, he thought that he knew this voice, but he really wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, Midas or Michael Forster. These four were probably some of his worst enemies, but three of them were dead already, and the fourth’s voice just didn’t match. Besides, Oliver was pretty sure that Slade was still safely locked up on the island.

The truth was that Oliver had no idea who was on the other line. He just knew that it wasn’t Felicity, and it was nobody that Felicity had asked to tell him. She’d know that he’d freak out at this. If she faked her abduction for some scavenger hunt, she’d make it so poorly that he knew from the start that it was a fake.

“Who is there?”

“Oh, I’d say an old friend, but don’t worry about me too much.”

You have other things to worry about, your wife’s wellbeing or her life for example. The words resonated in what he had said although he didn’t say those words directly, and Oliver felt his fingers tightening around his phone in response because it was clear that it was Felicity he should be worrying around. He knew that playing alone was barely ever a good idea, but he couldn’t help himself. He was worried about Felicity. He couldn’t possibly stop himself from it.

“You will find out who I am soon enough.”

Oliver frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He could almost see the other person smiling evilly at the questions. That person wanted Oliver to feel scared, and Oliver was. He was scared for what he could lose. It made his heckles rise and caused his muscles to tense even more.

“Well, well.” The other person released a long sigh. “The last time we have met, I got the impression that you have a lot of fun playing catch. That is why I decided that it was the perfect birthday surprise for you.”

That man was attacking Oliver Queen, not the Green Arrow, or he knew that these two were the same person. He should have probably noticed that before, but his ability to think was restricted. The worry where Felicity was and if she was alright was making his thoughts spin.

Before Oliver could ask another question, the doorbell rang.

“It sounds like my first gift for you just arrived. I will give you some time to enjoy unwrapping it. Don’t talk to anyone and keep your phone close. I will call you again in a couple of minutes.”

With that, the line broke. Oliver hung up, pushed his phone to the hindpocket of his jeans and hurried to the door. He opened the door without thinking, but there was nobody there.

Something had been left on the doorstep though. The small greeting card carried his name. A neatly wrapped gift with a big, red bow was waiting for him.

* * * 

Chapter 1 of 8 for this angst storyline

(The number already contains the chapters that handle some of the aftermath.)

* * *

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(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

[slasherholic]

synopsis: Michael’s stalking is interrupted when someone tries to hit on him. You have to break the news to him: it’s because he’s stupid sexy.

Oblivious | Michael Myers x Reader

He stands on the curb at the edge of the park and watches her like a hawk from the shade of a gnarled oak. The girl sits on a swing and her pen moves back and forth across her page and the breeze tousles her hair into loose strands and he can see her shivering.

His breaths come slowly. He barely moves. The urge to pounce seethes in every fiber of his muscles and his body is wound with all the tension of a loaded pistol. 

Soon. Her back is turned towards him; she wouldn’t see him coming. Soon. 

But not yet.

A man with a dog walks past on the sidewalk. A woman in tight clothing runs down the street. Two boys throw a ball on the grass. The others do not see him. Some glance in his direction—and they notice him, but they do not see him. They cannot see him. Because he does not wear the mask. 

If he strikes, they will see. They will see on his bare face the mask and in his empty fists the knife and they will know him as he truly is. 

He will wait.

He had followed her from the house on foot. He had lurked just out of view as she stood in her room and gathered up her books and her bag and all the while her head was like a swivel. She was looking for him. Expecting him. An eagerness swelled in his chest and his fingers twitched and sought the familiar weight of deadly steel. She had been well-within striking distance. One lunge and he could have had her by the throat. His body pulsed with excitement. But his mind was clear. Focused. 

It was not time yet. The girl had not seen him then—but she felt him. 

He had filled his lungs with strong breaths and resigned himself to patience. He would watch her. Follow. Wait. And when she no longer saw him lurking in every shadow, when she no longer steeled for his approach at every creak of the house around her, when she no longer felt his hands on her body in every gust of wind, when she thought he could not reach her, when he was the furthest thing from her mind, when she was safe—

Then. Then he would strike.

He watched the girl as she zipped up her bag and flew down the stairs and turned the doorknob and slipped out the door. He followed her down the street. He kept his distance and matched her pace. The girl walked for a block and then thought herself safe from him. She stared down at the sidewalk beneath her feet as she went and did not look around. 

She turned off into a park. He watched her sit down and take out her books and begin to write.

She has not moved since. And neither has he.

The park is empty when the girl stands up from the swing. She gathers her books into her arms. She cuts back across the grass. He watches. The running woman in tight clothes passes him on the street again. Closer this time. But he does not turn his head to study her; his focus on his prey is steadfast.

The prey starts down the sidewalk again and now she is coming closer to him. Closer to the shade of the oak. Closer. She is looking at the ground. Closer. He will strike fast. He will clamp his hand down over her mouth. And trap her against the tree. And watch her eyes grow wide. And let her squirm. And let her struggle. And let her—

“Hey.”

...An Interruption. 

His head turns slowly. 

It is the woman in tight clothes. She leans against a park bench. He stares at her. She looks at him. She smiles. 

“I know it’s super out of the blue, but do you live around here?”

He breathes. She is not talking to him. He waits for her to look away. 

...But she does not look away. She smiles more. Laughs.

“Sorry if I’m being too forward.”

She steps away from the bench. He feels her eyes sweeping his body. She watches him. She watches him like he watches the girl.

“I swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

...She is not talking to another. Her words are meant for him. 

She sees the Shape. She knows.

~

“...On the cover of a magazine, maybe?”

Comes the flirtatious voice from off to your left, followed by some nervous giggling. It pulls you from your thoughts and you glance up from the sidewalk. A jogger in spandex tights stands in the shade and coils the end of her ponytail around her finger.

Your mouth falls agape and you nearly drop your bag. Because then, you notice who she’s talking to.

A tall figure lurks in the shade of a thick tree trunk. It’s Michael. He stands perfectly still and melds with the shadows like a panther. The winding sidewalk would have taken you right past him; an ambush. 

Your heart races. Twenty more seconds and he’d have had you.

But now, his cover is blown—and if you’re overhearing this tragically one-sided conversation correctly he’s about to be asked out.

Although his hands are not around the woman’s throat just yet you can see the quiet bloodlust brewing in Michael’s eyes. The woman is offering herself up to him on a silver platter.

Please don’t do something stupid. You beg him, as if he can read your thoughts. Please don’t do something stupid.

You gather the pieces of your shattered composure and abandon the sidewalk, beelining across the grass. Michael’s eyes flit to you as you approach. He studies you callously. Then turns his head and stares again at the woman in front of him. You are no longer his priority.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d try my luck. Would you wanna grab a coffee with me some—?”

“Excuse me,” You interrupt. The jogger’s voice trails off. She glances over her shoulder at you. Her lips press finely together and she glares like you just called her some foul name.

Without thought, you do something that you know could very well get you into deep shit later. You do it anyway, because you need to get Michael away from here. Away from these witnesses. Out of this public place.

You brush intimately up against Michael’s side and intertwine your fingers through his. You grip his calloused hand with the eagerness of a star-crossed lover. And you try your damndest to look normal for the both of you, because you know that Michael won’t.

“He’s taken.”

Michael doesn’t even look at you as you touch him. His fingers twitch impatiently. He starts to squeeze your hand. He squeezes until his knuckles turn white. It takes all your willpower to keep the grimace off your face—Michael is telling you where he’d rather be putting his fingers right now. 

The woman pouts at you.

“Alright. Have a good one, then.” She says, in a too-sweet tone, before turning on her heel and jogging away down the sidewalk. Michael’s stare lingers after her.

“Please,” You whisper up at him. “Let’s just go.”

You take a step back and try to pull him away from the tree. Michael doesn’t budge. He anchors the two of you firmly in place and studies the retreating jogger, and just like that you know the woman’s fate is sealed. You try not to think about it. You just need to get him home.

“Michael.”

He ignores you. Doesn’t move a muscle. Hardly even breathes.

“She doesn’t know. I promise.”

You hear him exhale, long and steady. Still he ignores you. You doubt he’s even listening. You abandon tact and jump straight to the point.

“Look. Listen. She wasn’t threatening you. She was just flirting. Do you even know what that means?”

A beat passes. Michael looks down at you and his stare is cold. It always is. But it is not totally impassive; a glimmer of inquisitiveness flashes in his eyes. Something you said has caught his attention.

“It...well, it means you’re hot.”

Now, Michael’s stare is blank. No hint of understanding flickers on his face. A poor choice of words on your part—he’s not following. 

You force out an exhale and try to reiterate. This is going to be hard. 

“I mean, you’re attractive. Like, your face. And your body. Really attractive. In a way that makes people want to have sex with you. And… ask you out for coffee.”

Michael blinks. You can almost see the gears turning in his head. You aren’t sure if you’ve gotten through to him; either way, you’re grateful that his curiosity has kept him from committing a murder in broad daylight.

You shoulder your bag and unzip it with the hand that isn’t currently being crushed in Michael’s grip. He watches you closely as you take out your hand mirror and hold it up for him to see.

“Just... look. I know you don’t care. But please. Look at yourself and try to understand what I’m telling you.”

Michael’s harsh gaze lingers on your face as you speak. Then, his eyes flitting down to the mirror, he turns his scrutinizing glare on his own reflection. 

He doesn’t blink as he studies himself. You wonder what he sees. 

You wonder if he notices the way his unbrushed hair falls in gentle waves around his face. You wonder if he notices the symmetry in his features, in the graceful curve of his jaw, in the slight pout of his rosy lips. Most of all, you wonder what Michael sees in his own eyes. You wonder if he recognizes his piercing gaze for what it is—the leer of a ruthless predator. Captivating. Mesmerizing. Hard to look at; harder still to look away from.

Or if he just sees eyes. Just a face. As unremarkable to him as all the rest.

~

He looks at the mirror. The smudge on the glass is more interesting to him than the reflection. But still he looks. The face in the mirror is his own. It is different now than it had been; the hair is dark. The eye that no longer sees is scarred and white. 

His curiosity in these things is momentary. His interest fades as abruptly as it was sparked. He does not understand the girl’s meaning. And he no longer cares.

~

Michael studies himself for hardly five seconds. When he looks away from the mirror his grip eases off your hand. The jogger is now a blurry figure in the distance, and as Michael starts down the winding sidewalk after her you know that there is nothing on heaven or earth you can do to make him see the meaning behind your words.

Just as a tiger could never comprehend that is renowned for its beauty,

Michael will never understand that he is, in fact, stupidly gorgeous.

[endless-whump]

Milo: Home

CW: dissoci@tion, referenced past torture and conditioning, self blaming, 

Masterlist

--

The car jolted slightly as Nick pulled into the driveway, glancing at Milo in the passenger seat.  It had been a battle to even get him into the car, his eyes wide with panic at even the suggestion when they’d left the hospital.  It took a lot of coaxing and reassurance, and even then Milo had been tense the whole ride back.

Nick had listened intently to the doctor when they finally managed to pry him from Milo’s side, heart twisting as she explained the extent of his injuries.  They were assuming kidnapping by his state, scars running all the way up his arms, neck, and back.  He had some on his face, cuts inflicted by someone nobody could guess.  From Milo’s mental state, a fogged, miserable shell of what he was when Nick last saw him, one could only guess the extent of psychological damage.

“Milo?” Nick prompted, putting the car in park.  He reached out and touched Milo’s hand, a gesture he responded positively to so far.  The other startled a little, turning to face him.

“N,Nick? Oh, um, sorry-” He blinked, looking out the window like he was just registering his surroundings.  “Um..Nick..w,where are we?”

Nick’s breath caught in his throat, tears pooling in his eyes. “Milo...Milo we’re home.  You’re home.”

“Oh.”

That was all he said

Nick guided him out of the car, letting him lean onto him for support.  The psychiatrist had warned him about Milo having an aversion to touch, but he happily clung to Nick whenever they were together, and Nick let him.

They stood there, by the side of the car, as Milo let his head rest against Nick’s shoulder.  Just the drive had exhausted him, drained every bit of his limited energy.  He could feel his partner's weight leaning on him more and more, and he wrapped an arm around Milo’s back in case he fell.

“Milo?” He asked, concerned.

“Hm?” Milo straightened up a bit, staggering.

“Let's get you inside, ok?”

“Oh- okay.”

Nick fumbled for the keys once they were at the door, pushing the door open and pulling Milo inside.

They were home

He’d ensured everyone would be out of the apartment that day, he needed to bring Milo back to somewhere quiet, somewhere safe.  He needed to make sure there was nothing that could freak Milo out his first day back.

Nick shook off his rain jacket and gently took Milo’s, tossing them aside for now.  First priority was getting Milo to rest.  He was easily guided down the hall to Nick’s bedroom, completely pliable.  It was disturbing how he’d just wordlessly do what you told him to, completely still until he was guided somewhere, given directions.

God, his eyes were so blank. They’d refocus a bit when Nick talked to him, or when he startled, but otherwise Milo seemed like an empty shell.

He needed to get something for his partner to eat, once he was asleep.  The doctor had sent him home some pamphlets Nick intended to look through as soon as he had a chance, ones about how often he should be eating and how much.  It was extremely clear Milo hadn’t been fed enough for the months he’d been gone, and he was told there might be lingering effects from the prolonged deficiencies, even after he was at a healthy weight again.

It was going to be a long, long journey to recovery, at least that's what Nick had been told.  There had been recommendations of putting Milo in care, but he’d immediately refused. Nick was the only one he was reacting positively to right now, and he couldn’t even imagine sending him away like that.

He was staying, no matter what

--

It smelled like vanilla in here.

It was a warm and familiar scent, one that made Milo relax as he was guided to sit down on the bed, blankets tucked around him.  He was trying to focus, he really was, but it was hard, only fragmented thoughts processing slowly in his mind.

Part of him knew he should be panicked, knew he should be on guard and shouldn’t let himself give in like this, but he was too tired to resist. The touch didn’t hurt, it felt safe,and he didn’t want to reject it in fear it was a limited opportunity.  Nick was here, Nick was taking care of him, and Milo feared it would all be ripped away from him without a moment's notice.

So he tried paying attention, leaning into the comforting touch and letting Nick guide him where he needed to go.  It was simple like that, letting someone else tell him what to do. That's how you avoided pain, with Samuel, so he figured that's how he could avoid Nick leaving.  Obeying was how he’d be allowed to stay with Nick.

“-ilo?”

Milo blinked, refocusing a little.  There was a comforter under him, and it registered to him that he was sitting on a bed now.  Nick was there, holding his face with a look of pure concern.

“You with me?” He asked, tone laced with worry.  Milo nodded, leaning into the touch as his eyes fluttered shut.  He heard Nick sigh before lips were pressed gently against his forehead, a feeling that sparked something deeply buried in Milo.  The feeling was scary, something Milo wanted to shove away on instinct, but it also felt like something he was missing, something he just needed to reach out and grab hold of.

“Is anything hurting right now?  Do I need to get you some more painkillers?”

Milo shook his head on instinct.  He could be good, he could take the pain.  This was how he kept Nick, was allowed to see him.  If Nick left, Milo wasn’t sure he’d come back. Maybe he’d just wake up in that bare room again, chained and collared to the cold floor.

He could take the pain if it meant he didn’t have to go back

Silence hung in the air between them for the moment, and Milo drank up the environment.  The humming of the heater was music to his ears.  The smell of vanilla and air freshener and a faint hint of dirt was a scent that made Milo relax his shoulders, leaning against the hands holding him up.  And Nick. The hands holding his face and the thumb brushing lightly across his cheekbone and absolutely everything about this radiated Nick’s presence in a way that made Milo feel safe.  He felt grounded in this room, almost as if it were real.  He could just almost believe it.

If only he believed it would last

--

Nick watched him fall asleep right there, sitting up and leaning into the touch Nick was providing.  Hot tears filled his eyes as he held Milo upright, pressing their foreheads together.  He was so...so trusting.  So desperate for any bit of comfort available.

Once the tears started, they didn’t stop

Nick sobbed into Milo’s hair, pulling him close to his chest. He’d failed, he should have gone with him, should have protected him. Milo had been alone and hurt and scared for months, all while Nick was useless to do anything.  Had he even tried after a certain point?  Or had he simply given up, resigned to being left in the dark about his whole case.

He’s tried so hard to protect Milo when they were kids, even when he didn’t want it.  He didn’t ask questions, just offered as much support as Milo would take, tried to be there and give him an escape.

Maybe he should have asked more questions

Maybe if he’d actually pushed for Milo to get help, he wouldn’t have ended up here.

And then Milo had finally caved and came to him for help. He needed to get out of that house, and Nick welcomed him without hesitation.  Then he’d gone and failed again.  He let Milo convince him to let him take the car alone to go back there.  None of this would have ever happened if Nick had actually pushed for Milo to let him help for once.

He couldn’t help but wonder to himself what would have gone differently if he’d gone with.  Maybe he could have helped, had protected him, had been there for him. Maybe that guy wouldn’t have even gone through with driving Milo off the road.

There was no way of knowing now, there was only the two of them left to pick up the shattered pieces of themselves.

Nick let himself catch his breath, still holding Milo’s head against his shoulder.  He slowly lowered his partner down onto the bed, tucking blankets gently around him. He needed to pull himself together for Milo.

The room was quiet as Nick unzipped his backpack, settling on the bed next to Milo as he pulled out the packets of pamphlets he’d been given, ones with lists on diet suggestions and trauma recovery. There was a lot to go through, but he had time.

He wasn’t going anywhere

--

Taglist

@haro-whumps@spiffythespook@simplygrimly@insanitywishes@lonesome--hunter@deluxewhump@elisabethrosewrites@insanitywishes@iaminamoodymoodtoday @bleeding-demon-teeth @lumpofwhump@redstainedsocks @redstainedsocks @finder-of-rings @insomniacscoprio

[intern-seraph]

Springs, Scars, and Sleep

brahammander is where it’s at (also feat. arbreura’s first appearance! she’s a nosy big sister)

CW: Non-sexual nudity, violence, injury, and death. Contains spoilers for the whole story up until the end of Shadow in the Ice

It’s cold in Bjora Marches. A hot spring would really hit the spot.

Three years ago, Alfswen would have called the Crystal Desert’s heat the worst thing she’d ever experienced. Ever. Now, though? The absolutely inhospitable cold of the northern Shiverpeaks definitely takes the prize. It’s enough to make her swear up and down that one of her leaves snapped in half after a particularly awful night.

“How do you do it?” she mutters to Braham, staring pointedly at his bare chest.

“Huh?” He blinks owlishly at her. “Do what?”

“You’re nearly shirtless! You have half your chest just… out! In this weather!”

He puffs up like a pigeon at this. “Well, I’m norn!”

“And you’re going to lose a nipple if you keep it up.”

“I will not!”

“You will!” She knocks her shoulder against his arm. Then, she strides over to the firepit in the center of the village. “Come on, sit with me so you don’t freeze.”

“What, you wanna cuddle?” He snickers, but still plops down beside her. She looks away, her face turning from gold to amber for a moment. “You’re the one who’s gonna freeze out here, Commander. You’re so… little. And leafy.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very cold resistant.” She shuffles a smidge closer to him and leans in. Even with some distance between them, she can practically feel the heat emanating off of his body. “But, uh, I really would not object to someplace warmer than this. You know, now that I think of it…” She scoots back and stands. “The kodan were telling me about this hot spring north-ish of here. Apparently it’s relatively secluded, so nothing should bother us there. Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure!” Braham rises (almost a little too fast).

“Great. You remember I have a body, right? Just so you don’t go into shock from seeing it again.”

“That was years ago!”

She snickers and grabs his sleeve. She gives it a tug. He follows her motion, letting her pull him along. “Let’s get going while it’s still daylight.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

—

“I think… yes, this is the place.” She perches herself atop a fallen cypress tree and watches steam waft off of the water. “The kodan said it’s safe to bathe in. Hopefully we don’t boil alive. That wouldn’t be, uh, great.”

Braham snorts and elbows her. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Rolling her eyes, Alfswen strides over to the edge of the spring. She hesitates for a moment, one hand flitting between her breasts, then starts to undress. “I remember going to a hot spring once, back when I was still in the Vigil.”

“You’re… right. I forgot about that.” He takes a deep breath. The faint rustle of clothing fills the brief silence he leaves. “This… really must be tough for you. Shit, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine.” Her fingers dance across her blindfold, contemplative, before she takes it off. “I’ve been occupied with other things, anyways. Funnily enough, the threat of some unhinged charr getting an entire army under Jormag’s control takes priority over grieving.”

“It shouldn’t.”

She scoffs. “You’re one to talk.”

“Hey!”

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. Laughter, she’s laughing, and she’s not sure when the last time she let herself relax was. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m, uh, I feel the same.” She turns to face him, and immediately his eyes are drawn to her chest. The pit in her chest. “That’s—”

“From when Balthazar killed me.” Her lashes lower and she places a hand over the scar. It’s alike to a crater, shallow but wide. Almost as if someone had taken a knife and carved a chunk out of her flesh. The skin there is pale peach in comparison to the honeysuckle around it. Even years later, it never returned to the deep gold.

“Spirits,” he whispers, “I never—I mean, I knew it was bad, but this is… worse.”

“It’s not as bad as it used to be.” She slips into the spring, flinching at the water’s heat. “You should see the other guy.”

“I should have been there. If I wasn’t—if I wasn’t acting like a dolyak’s ass, I could have… I could have been there for you.” He wades through the water and reaches out a hand. “Can I?”

She nods. His hand settles over the scar, callused fingers spreading over her skin. He’s warm, warmer than the spring, and she can’t help but lean into the touch. “You shouldn’t.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have been there.” She rests her palm atop his hand. “He would have killed you be-before you could even draw your weapons.” Her eyes slide shut. “He only kept me alive long enough to lure out Aurene.”

His jaw sets. He wraps his other arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I wish I was there to help you kill the bastard. I woulda made him pay for everything he did.”

“You’re an idiot,” she mutters. She rests her head on his chest. His heartbeat thunders in her ears.

“You died alone.”

“It was an ambush.”

“I won’t let it happen again.”

“We can’t plan for every horrible thing that could happen.”

“The horrible thing you had to go through should never have happened.”

“I know.” When she closes her eyes, sometimes she can still see the horribly pleased look on Balthazar’s face when she crumpled, when Aurene’s azure scales shone through the walls of flame as the dragon came to save her, when the column of flame pierced through her chest and stopped her breath.

She had fought valiantly, at least she thinks she did. Even when he broke her leg, shattered the bones to splinters, she fought on. Even with a chest of broken ribs and an arm that hung limp at her side, even with him pinning her to the ground and tearing her blindfold away so he could watch the light leave her eyes, she fought on. The Domain of the Lost was meant for people like her, people who had been torn apart and never put back together. In another world, perhaps, she would have remained there for eternity.

“How sad,” Balthazar had drawled as he crushed her ribs beneath his boot, “that you will die so far from home. We could have worked together. You would have served me well.”

“I serve… nobody.”

Her shoulders tremble. She takes a slow, steadying breath. Here, she’s safe. If only for a moment.

“It was… temporary. I’m fine now.”

He deflates, his body slumping against hers. “I just can’t stop thinking that I abandoned you guys. All of you. I just… I gave up on everyone, didn’t I? Maybe they’re right, calling me Vowbreaker.”

“No. You never did. We were all confused and angry and… shit happens, Braham.” She pokes his shoulder. “You’ll never be Vowbreaker to me, idiot. Never. And don’t blame yourself for what happened. Nothing could have stopped it.”

“I swear, that’ll never happen again.” The fingers on her chest curl into a fist, then soften into a gentle touch once more. “You’re my pack now, got it?”

“It goes both ways, Braham.” She looks up at him and chances a smile. He used to be just about as tall as her. Now, she hardly reaches his shoulders. He’s grown up. They’ve both grown up.  “I won’t let you die. Don’t do anything too stupid, got it?”

“No promises.”

She draws back and cuffs him on the ear. He snorts, holding both hands up to block any other attacks. “It’s not a joke!”

“I know, I know! We were getting too serious there. Didn’t we come here to relax?”

“We did, we did.” She wades back towards the wall of the spring. “I guess I got caught up in… things.”

“Things. Riiight.” Instead of moving to the opposite end, he sidles up beside her. “Y’know, I didn’t really notice how tense it’s all been lately. I mean, not that I didn’t know things are tense—”

“I know, I know.”

“But, man… it’s nice to just be somewhere quiet.”

“Silence is harder and harder to come by these days.”

“And… I’m glad you chose me.”

Her eyes go wide. She can’t figure out why, but she feels just a bit warmer. A moment of silence passes once more before she edges closer and leans her head on his arm. “Yeah. So am I.”

—

It’s nearly dark when they emerge from the secluded springs, the evening air harsh and icy. She stays close to him, eventually slipping beneath his coat for shelter from the freezing wind. He curls his arm around her. He’s warm. So, so warm. The camp’s asleep by the time they march in—well, more of a clumsy waddle—and so they shuffle into her empty tent, shuck off their metal bits of armor, and just about pass out on the spot.

She rarely sleeps with someone else in her tent. Nobody ever felt brave enough before. But right here, right now? She couldn’t imagine another way about it.

—

“Has anyone seen the Commander?” Arbreura asks. She crosses her arms and squints at the scrawny asura Vigil recruit she has cornered. “You, have you seen her?”

“No! No, sorry. Last I heard, she was out somewhere with that norn.”

“With Braham?” She sighs and turns away, shaking her head. “They better not have been fooling around. Commander? Sister dearest, you’re needed!” The darker, scarier possibility behind her disappearing with a male norn sits in the back of Arbreura’s mind. No. She wouldn’t fall for the same dangerous presumptions that painted a target on the back of every sylvari in Maguuma. The same presumptions that led to her current duty: Commander babysitting. And she can’t even do that right, it seems.

“Hey, Agent,” a familiar voice calls. They’re on her good side, and that alone keeps her from tensing up.

“Tribune Brimstone. Is something the matter?”

“You haven’t found her yet, huh?”

“No, but I have a lead. She and Braham were last seen leaving camp together.”

“Have you checked her tent?”

She freezes, staring blankly at Rytlock for what feels like (and likely isn’t) a solid minute. “No, I don’t believe I have.”

“Yeah, you might wanna go there before you run off into a blizzard.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh at her. Bastard. “You sure you’re really a spy?”

“As sure as my aim.” She brushes past him and heads for her sister’s tent. The flaps are still down. She pushes them up and aside. “Commander, are y—”

Arbreura had expected to see Alfswen curled up under a thick fur blanket or perhaps in the middle of putting on her armor. She certainly did not expect that thick fur blanket to also contain Braham. He lets out a loud snore and rolls onto his back, pulling Alfswen along with him. She groans. Her brow scrunches up, then she curls up into his side and rests her head on his chest.

“My, have you been canoodling?” Arbreura whispers. This will be perfect teasing fodder for later. But for now? She’ll leave them be. It’s been some time since she last saw her little sister sleep so soundly.