#they close their eyes listening to the two fight- gargled screeching and snarling- the sound of claws ripping through inky hide-

[arcadequeerz]

Not doing the best atm so I’m just gonna sit here imagining me w my faves.

[captain039]

PART 7

The nightmare of us

Vesemir x female!reader

Last chapter <-

Warnings: Gore, Swearing, angst, sadness, character death, monsters, smut, sexual

18+

You and Vesemir scouted the mountains, leaving the four boys at the Kear locked in, though they protested there was no way you were letting them come in contact with whatever this creature. You tried to follow your medallions hum, but it seemed to be everywhere.

“What the fuck” Vesemir muttered looking at something on the ground.

“Footprints, female” he said as you dismounted and looked.

‘I haven’t been out” you said, and he nodded.

“They’re too fresh to be yours” he said looking around. Your medallions still humming.

“Doesn’t smell right here” He muttered making you take a deep breath. Your nose scrunched at the smell of some sort of poison and death. He began to follow the trail with you behind him, it led you to a new cave you hadn’t seen before, it looked freshly made.

“That wasn’t here before” You muttered and Vesemir shook his head peeking inside.

“Stay close” he said, and you nodded following him inside. Your medallions were going haywire, your senses were on edge also.

“Somethings very wrong here” you said glancing around, there were multiple bodies, bones, swords, and armour, all Witcher by the looks of it. You both heard a low screech and froze swords in your hands, the sound didn’t continue, nor did anything come after it. Vesemir took a potion before continuing down the dark cave. You stuck close by The Witcher as you saw light at the end of the tunnel. You both hid behind the entrance, listening in, one set of footsteps were shuffling around, it was panting raggedly and muttered between breaths.

Vesemir looked to you, and you nodded slightly before a voice came.

“Come in” you froze at the feminine voice that rang out. You both frowned before Vesemir walked out.

“You two dear” she said again, and you followed suit. You frowned at the naked woman standing by an altar, she was flawless, her grin bright. Her brown hair covered her breasts, eyes a weird hazed over brown colour. You and Vesemir kept your swords trained on her, she giggled disappearing into the air.

“It was quite fun listening to you scream” she said her voice echoing around.

“Bitch” Vesemir spat as you frowned trying to pinpoint her.

“Harsh words” You both turned seeing her behind you. Vesemir moved first, his sword going through her quickly. Her laugh echoed off the cave walls again as he began to groan. You frowned looking to the man as his eyes hazed over, he stood slowly looking to you blankly. The woman appeared behind her giggling as she laid his hands on him.

“Handsome thing” She taunted grinning.

“I heard Witcher’s can go for hours” She added stroking his cheek and kissing his neck. You gripped your sword a little tighter as Vesemir stood like a puppet. You didn’t know what she was, she looked human, almost sorceress like.

“How do you intend to fight me?” She giggled standing to Vesemirs side.

“Not even a full Witcher” She scoffed slightly smirking.

“Fuck you” You snarled swiping your sword. She disappeared again and Vesemirs blade clashed with yours. He frowned slightly at you his eyes not his.

“Vesemir” you said a little desperate as her laughter rang out again. He knocked you back, standing ready to fight.

“Let’s test your skills” Her voice echoed again as Vesemir stalked closer. You dodged and looked around quickly trying to find her.

You kept avoiding his attacks, trying to pinpoint her laughter that went through the cave, Vesemir kept attacking knocking you on your back with Aard. You groaned against the rocks as the woman stood behind your head, she laughed as Vesemir held his sword to your neck. You froze as did he as you stared at him desperately. He began to shake, and you frowned as did the woman above you did. He slowly lifted his sword and stuck it through her throat. She gargled and pulled back stumbling away.

“I won’t fall for that again” he said strained as his eyes returned to normal. Vesemir helped you up as you looked to the creature, she cried holding her neck as she began to shrivel, her body turned ugly, her face melting off almost as she finally fell to the ground and drew her last breath. Vesemir walked over and sliced her head off before burning the body. You watched as he stared at the flames with a stern gaze.

“What was it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know” He muttered, and you gulped nodding.

“Come on” He muttered as you both left the cave. He closed the entrance forcing rocks to tumble the entrance, your horses nickered at your return nodding their heads.

“Let’s get back” you said resting a hand on his arm, he nodded mounting up without a word. You sighed softly following suit and heading back to the Kear.

The boys were waiting patiently at the table, they all stood up at your return, Vesemir walked past them though and disappeared to his room.

“What happened?” Remus asked and you sighed.

“We don’t know what it was, but its dead” You muttered, and they nodded.

“He just needs some time” you said lying your sword down.

Vesemir hadn’t left his room since you got back, it was dinner time now, you brought it up to his room but got no response. Your worry only grew that night, you didn’t sleep, too worried about the Witcher in the other room. Had he seen something else like you had? Sent to some horrible place of his past.

You couldn’t stand it any longer, you stood and went to his room. You didn’t bother knocking as you snuck in. You saw him hunched over the bed, papers over the floor, different writings, and monster pictures. You walked in a little more, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge you, you debated whether leaving or not, you wanted to help though.

You began to pick up the pieces of paper slowly and laid them on a pile on his desk, you heard him sigh and break out of his trance. You struggled with words as you stood in front of him, you cursed yourself silently wishing you could say something that would at least sooth his mind. He looked up to you though, his eyes boring into yours, you froze at his intense gaze. His hand grabbed your wrist and he tugged you closer, you stumbled slightly but let yourself be moved as he sighed leaning against your stomach. You let out a sad sigh and put a hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair. You gently massaged his scalp as he sighed, shoulders sagging slightly.

“I almost killed you” he muttered and your face saddened.

“You didn’t” you said, and he huffed slightly looking up to you. Your hand slipped to his cheek, your thumb brushing against his cheek gently.

“I thought it was that thing” he muttered, and you nodded.

“Felt like your hands and lips were on me not- “He shuddered, and you clenched your jaw remembering her hands on him.

“Bitch” you muttered, and he let out a chuckled making you smile. He sighed quietly leaning into your hand, you watched his face relax, his eyes closed. You leant forward and pressed your lips to his softly. He was surprised a small noise coming from his lips before he smiled and kissed you back. His hands gripped your waist as he deepened the kiss, you melted a little as he tugged you into his lap. You sat on his thighs still kissing him, your hands cupping his face, you ran your fingers through his beard feeling the coarse hair. You pulled back slightly to catch your breath as you opened your eyes also too look at him. He looked to you also, eyes staring into yours, his hands resting on your waist as you moved yours to the hem of his shirt. He didn’t flinch or look as you slowly lifted his shirt up and over his head. He moved his arms with you before his hands returned your waist. You pressed your lips to his again a sigh leaving your lips in the process. His hands gripped your flesh tightly as his tongue danced with yours. He pulled back this time a questioning looks on his face as he gripped the hem of your shirt. You gave a slight nod as he lifted your shirt also, you lifted your arms up before dropping them again as your shirt was thrown onto the floor. HIs hands went back to your waist going up and down your side, feeling your body. His eyes trailed down your face down to your chest, you looked away a little embarrassed before a gasp left your lips. His tongue pressed against your nipple before swirling it around. You looked to him quickly as his eyes glanced up a smirk in them. You flushed as you looked away again pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as he played with your nipple. His hand went to your other breast, he cupped it and gave it a gentle squeeze, you bit your tongue at the feelings he sent through you. The sound he made when the let go made you flush more, his hand left your other breast only to be replaced with his mouth. His other hand went back to your breast he just had his mouth on. You kept your noises in forcing your eyes shut and biting your tongue harshly.

His lips moved up your chest to your neck before you moved your hand and leant down to meet his lips again. His arms wrapped around you, tugging you closer, you could feel him straining against his pants as he kissed you desperately. He fell back bringing you back with him, you had to catch yourself, glaring as he grinned up at you before you kissed him again. His hands ran up and down your back before running down the curve of your ass and grip your thigh. You balanced on your legs as you moved your hands to undo his pant strings. He stopped you though and you frowned, confusion and regret filling you. He kissed you softly though and your fears went away, he gently pushed you to lay on the bed. He sat up as you laid the right way on the bed, he blew out most the candles and you gulped slightly as he came back smirking. He climbed back on the bed and leant down to kiss you as he moved to be above you.

Your hands went to his arms, feeling the muscles flex under your palm and fingers. His hips dipped down in a fluid motion, you felt him hard and wanting eagerly before he lifted his hips again. He moved his hands to undo your pant strings this time before tugging them down, you lifted your hips and he slipped them off chucking them on the ground.

You felt bare, embarrassed almost if his lips didn’t keep you distracted. He felt you closing your legs together and lifted his head too look at you again. He looked to you, and you flushed looking away again, your heart pounded loudly in your ear. You expected a comment, but none came as he kissed down your chest to the middle of your breasts, your stomach before stopping at your waist. You tensed breathing heavily as his hands rested on your thighs. He looked up to you and you looked back, you relaxed your legs and let him push them apart as you looked away again.

You bit the back of your hand again in anticipation and embarrassment as you felt warm breath fan over your cunt. His tongue had licked carefully along your folds before parting them with his tongue. Your thighs tensed on their own wanting to close, his hands clasped them though, holding them apart a groan escaping his mouth in warning. You had shut your eyes tightly as he mouthed and hummed against your heat, your legs shook at the new feeling, your stomach was clenching as you tried to keep your back from arching. His hands held a vice grip on your hips now, keeping you still as his tongue darted to your entrance.

You couldn’t keep your breath in anymore, you moved your hand and let out a loud breath as his tongue teased around your entrance. Your pants came out quick and harsh trying to not let your voice come out, your hands gripped the sheets under you, your toes curled as your stomached tightened. He lifted his head though and you whined at the loss, you opened to see him smirking a wiping his beard on the back of his hand. You flushed turning your head, trying to hide in the pillow as he crawled back up your body. You went for his pants again, this time he didn’t stop you as you struggled pushing them down his legs. You glared as he laughed softly watching you struggle, he helped you after laughing, you gulped slightly seeing him come free. You quickly looked back to his eyes as he smirked and kissed you again. You hummed the slight aftertaste of you on his tongue not as disgusting as you thought it would be.

“Ves” Your voice managed to come out quietly as he hummed in answer still kissing you. You huffed wrapping your legs around his waist forcing his hips to press into yours, his cock trapped between you both. He made a noise pulling apart from your kiss as he finally gave you, his attention. You dug your heel into his back when you felt him grind against you slowly, he sighed quietly as you let your grip loosen. His eyes darkened as he looked to you, he shifted his hips and you felt him near your entrance. He held back looking to you for confirmation, you gulped a little but nodded as he kissed you and slipped in. You wrapped your arms around him tightly as he buried his head in your neck, your eyes sealed shut tightly as you bit your lip. You heard him hushing you gently as he inched in more, his lips mouthed around your neck as he finally stopped, his hips flush against yours. He muttered praises sending heat to your core, you held onto him tightly like your life depended on it. You felt the sting numbing, you slowly moved your hips letting out a small moan at the new feeling.

Vesemir shook slightly above you, you let your arms fall off his neck as he lifted his head slowly to look you in the face. You nodded taking a small breath, he pressed his lips to yours again as he slowly moved his hips with yours. You both settled into a shallow rhythm, your body getting use to the feelings, you kept sighing and moaning quietly when he moved his hips a bit faster every now and then. You knew he was holding onto his self-control, you kissed along his jaw biting the lobe of his ear, it made his hips snap slightly.

“Let go” You muttered, and he huffed in your ear shaking his head as he only sped up. He wouldn’t break you, though you didn’t know how much you could handle, but if it was too much he would slow, he kept panting in your ear mouthing along your neck messily. He sped up though and you moaned, eyes rolling as you closed your eyes, you panted quickly tension building up inside.

“Ves” You groaned, and he moaned in your ear in return. Your back arched and you began to squirm as he quickened, his hand slid between your bodies, and you let out a moan when his fingers began to rub against your sensitive nub. Your mind went blank, loudly groaning as your stomach tightened before releasing as you came. You shuddered, panting loudly as he continued his hard pace. His hips stuttered as he came also, a groan in your ear as he bit down on your shoulder gently to hold his voice back. HIs hips slowed, a few more thrusts before he stopped. He panted in your ear, pressing kisses along your neck, jaw, and cheek before kissing your lips gently. Your body felt like jelly, he slowly pulled out and lied beside you with a huff. You tried to move but couldn’t, you shuddered when he helped you roll onto your side, so you faced him. His arm went under your head while you shuffled to tuck yourself under his chin. You both had a layer of sweat covering your body, hearts beating quickly. The candles went out with a flick of his hand, you sighed eyes closing without thinking. You reached down for the sheet and pulled it over you both lazily before sighing. Your body went into sleep quickly, exhaustion taking over.

“I love you” You muttered before you fell into a deep sleep.

Next chapter ->

[shadow--writer]

I'm Sick of all the Insincere, So I'm Gonna Give all my Secrets Away

song title lyrics. 

Maeve x Lucas. Broken parts and pieces coming to surface. 2.9k

TW (real TW’s this time): gore, body horror, nightmares, almost panic attacks, gaslighting, mentions of past abuse. It’s a doozy folks

@dela-png

His voice was a sweet whisper as she chased after it. His shadowy form flickered in and out of the mist, the grass at her feet clinging to the hem of her dress as if begging her not to chase after him.

“Lucas!” she called, the wind stealing her voice as she ran. The world was hazy, slow, lazy. Like the fall of treacle onto a leaf. 

Everything heightened. 

He laughed, the sound guiding her through the underbrush. Tree branches sliced at her cheeks as she moved from grassy fields to deep wood.

“Lucas?”

“Over here Maeve!”

The world around her sharpened at his voice, she picked up her skirts. “Lucas!”

She ran into a clearing and there he stood. She brightened from the tips of her hair to the tips of her toes as she ran to him.

He held out his arms and scooped her up in a hug, spinning her around. Mists clung at his ankles.

He kissed her sweetly, smiling against her mouth. She buried her hands in his hair, letting out a breathy laugh.

He set her down gently, kissing her forehead as he twined their fingers together.

They walked through the clearing and back into the wood, him humming a tune. His voice was sweet and light, filling the empty air around them as they entered a wheat field. 

So pretty the tune was. It sounded...odd coming from his mouth. Like it was cut from someone else and pasted over his voice. 

“Maeve, can I ask you something?” he asked, his tone almost musical. It didn’t quite sound like Lucas’ voice. But like...someone else’s. 

She ignored it.

“Anything!”

He let go of her hand moving ahead of her. She watched with a soft smile.

But the way he was moving was off. Jerky. Uncoordinated. 

Puppet. 

She felt the world slow to a stop, her gut sinking deep within herself.

He stopped, his arms twitching at his sides. 

“Lucas?” she asked, inching closer to him. He didn’t respond, only shifted from foot to foot. The guttural noises he was making made her panic. “Lucas?!” Nothing.

Nothing.

He whimpered.

“Lucas, you're scaring me,” she whispered, reaching out to grab his hand. He let out a choked gargled gag as she touched his skin. 

Her heart beat so fast, blood roaring in her ears. “M-Mo grá?”

His hand closed around hers, her fingers creaking under the pressure. She yelped, trying to pull away. “Lucas s-stop, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered. He didn’t let go. “Lucas please.”

“Can’t you see he only hurts people?” something whispered. “Matter of time before he hurts you too I suppose.”

“L-Leave me alone!” she whispered, trying in vain to pull her hand out of Lucas’. “L-Lucas!”

He let out a whimper, throwing his head up, shaking a little. Her fingers popped, one by one. 

“Let me go!”

“Wouldn’t you be better with me again, sweetness?”

She froze. 

“Look how easy it is to control him! Weed into his thoughts and slowly take over. Only a matter of time.”

“Get away from him!” she snapped, whirling around. She couldn’t hear the voice. Couldn’t place it over the whisper of trees.

Then Lucas broke her first finger. 

And she screamed. 

“Tsk, aww too bad. I hate having to hurt others to get to you. But you leave me no choice.”

Her second finger. 

“Poor Maeve, hurt by the one she loves. Whatever shall she do?”

Her third finger. It cracked, creaked and then snapped. Her head spun at the pain. 

Her screams were turning into a blubbering mess as she listened to the bones in her hand snap gently. One. By one.

Four.

His grip hurt. It hurt so bad she was dizzy. Going to be sick.

Then he started to shake. 

Her screams faded into whimpers as Lucas let out a wail and let her hand go. His arm smacked her in the chest as he shook, sending her flying into the dirt. 

She clutched her broken fingers to her chest, trying her best not to throw up or pass out. 

Lucas hunched over, bones popping as he jerked around to face her. 

All colour drained from her face. 

His eyes were loose. Rolling. Bloodshot. 

Scared.

“M̷̨̭͇̟̰̅͐̔̀̍̉͌͐̃͘͝ͅä̴͇͈̭͈́̂͌͌̒͠e̸͛̑̃͝v̵͚̱͖̐̌͒̀ͅè̸̢̺̣͈̊̅̎̊̒̑̕̕͘͠͠͠ͅ?̴͗̈́̒̃͋͗

She stared at him, his brows creasing with fear as his eyes rolled. He coughed, hacking and spitting.

And his eyes popped out of his skull with a wet squeak. 

His voice was cracking and broken. “I can’t see you! M̷̨̭͇̟̰̅͐̔̀̍̉͌͐̃͘͝ͅä̴͇͈̭͈́̂͌͌̒͠e̸͛̑̃͝v̵͚̱͖̐̌͒̀ͅè̸̢̺̣͈̊̅̎̊̒̑̕̕͘͠͠͠ͅ! M̷̨̭͇̟̰̅͐̔̀̍̉͌͐̃͘͝ͅä̴͇͈̭͈́̂͌͌̒͠e̸͛̑̃͝v̵͚̱͖̐̌͒̀ͅè̸̢̺̣͈̊̅̎̊̒̑̕̕͘͠͠͠ͅ!”

“I-I’m right here,” she said, reaching out to him. 

He paused at the sound of her voice. 

The voice in the air cackled. 

“I wanted to ask y̷̥̰̪̲̝͗̿͑̄̾̾̈́̚o̴̟͓͖̗̺̐̇̿̏̓̄̒͘u̶͖̓͛̍̚ something,” he whispered. 

“Lu...cas?”

“Where did y̷̥̰̪̲̝͗̿͑̄̾̾̈́̚o̴̟͓͖̗̺̐̇̿̏̓̄̒͘u̶͖̓͛̍̚ go?”

Slowly his voice bubbled. Distorted. Grew deeper and more bloated.

“M̷̨̭͇̟̰̅͐̔̀̍̉͌͐̃͘͝ͅä̴͇͈̭͈́̂͌͌̒͠e̸͛̑̃͝v̵͚̱͖̐̌͒̀ͅè̸̢̺̣͈̊̅̎̊̒̑̕̕͘͠͠͠ͅ where did y̷̥̰̪̲̝͗̿͑̄̾̾̈́̚o̴̟͓͖̗̺̐̇̿̏̓̄̒͘u̶͖̓͛̍̚ go?”

His jaw snapped, and he stood needle straight, a creepy little smile climbing onto his cheeks as black sludge oozed from his eye sockets.

She shook, looking down at her knees. 

And two blue eyes stared up at her.

She screamed, flinging her body back. 

Lucas cackled. 

“Can’t leave, can’t leave.” She heard his ribs groan. “Can’t go away,” he snarled, sludge pooling at his lips and spilling over onto his chin.

He laughed, the sound a low gurgle as black ran down his face, staining his clothes, his skin. “Don’t go. You p̵̠̞͇̥̂͋̅͘͜r̵̡̛͓̰̘̈̄o̶̾̃̆́̀͘m̸͉͉̜͗̃̕i̵̔̚ś̸̡̫̯̓̄̈́ȇ̵̟̗̬̭̩̬̂d̶̽.”

His head shuddered and he held it, tremors shaking his whole body as he hunched over to make himself smaller. 

He retched, thick ooze falling from his lips as his chest heaved. 

She watched in abject horror as his teeth fell out. 

“You p̵̠̞͇̥̂͋̅͘͜r̵̡̛͓̰̘̈̄o̶̾̃̆́̀͘m̸͉͉̜͗̃̕i̵̔̚ś̸̡̫̯̓̄̈́ȇ̵̟̗̬̭̩̬̂d̶̽,” he whispered, his jaw cracking as he spoke. “You’re a L̸͉̖̯̠̾̒̿͛̓̏̍̄͠͠I̴̛̾͂͒̊̐Ä̵̙̎̀̒̔̔̓̍̐̈́͜Ṛ̸͈̾̍̊̆͝!” He sniffed, nails digging into his arms and leaving dark deep scrapes. “You left me.”

“She leaves everyone. She’ll leave you like she left me.”

Lucas gagged, his jaw popping once.

Her first warning. 

With a scream his back snapped and he stared at the black dark sky above them. 

Her voice was swallowed by the void, and she could only watch his body be ripped apart from the inside out. 

The first thing she saw were hands. Poking out of Lucas’ mouth as his jaw unhinged like a snake’s. 

Lucas whimpered and she shut her eyes, listening to the splatter of blood and the snap of bone. She wanted this to end. 

Leave her ALONE.

She knew Lucas’ eyes were at her feet. Watching. 

“Maeve, we both know it’s not him you want.”

The voice made her freeze, hands clawing at her face. 

The voice was filth. 

His.

“N-No,” she whispered, covering her ears to keep from hearing the bones crunching and the wet sound of blood splattering. She clawed at her skin as she screamed. “No. No no no NO!”

“Oh sweetheart, we both know it’s true. You don’t love him. Hmm oh wait,” Nicolas said, tone light with tease. Light with something hidden in the dark to snap at her feet. “You left him didn’t you? Distanced yourself like you always do. Because we both know you’ll only come crawling back to me.”

He was gone.

She spent years away.

Please go away.

“I did it…to protect him,” she whimpered. 

Nicolas laughed, her eyes cracked open. He emerged from Lucas like a butterfly would a cocoon.

Lucas fell with a sickening wet thump, Nicolas stretching a little. 

Leaving Lucas’ broken body at her knees.

She felt bile rise in her throat. His arms were twisted, the skin around his mouth torn so she could see his teeth through his cheeks. The gaps of missing teeth. Black sludge pooled around his broken (dead) body. 

His empty eye sockets.

“Aw poor little Maeve thinking she can run again.” Nicolas moved closer, his footsteps echoing in her head. She closed her eyes again, trying to block everything out and whispering tiny prayers to someone.

Anyone.

There was a soft pop as he stepped on the eyes by her knees, splattering her clothes. “He may be bigger but we both know what I would do.”

Gone. He was gone.

He tilted her head up with his hand, opening her eyes gently with his thumb. He smiled at her, that smile that once made her warm and smile back. His dark hair fell into his eyes. Brown with flecks of green.

There was blood on his face. 

“We both know I’ll find you again. And we both know what I’ll do if he’s still around.”

“You aren’t here anymore,” she gritted out, fighting back tears. Nightmare. This was all a dream. A very bad dream.

She just needed to wake UP.

“That’s the best part!” Nicolas said with a grin. His eyes darkened as he kissed her. He tasted like iron and gore. A hint of cinnamon (LucasLucasLucasLucasLucasLucas). “I never left.”

~~

She woke with a choked screech, hair matted to her head with sweat. 

She looked around the room, feeling panic rise in her throat. This wasn’t her room. Her bed. Her clothes.

She was going to scream. 

Something happened. 

The dream was real? 

He found her?!

Out out outoutoutoutoutout she needed to get out. 

Was Lucas okay?

Was she okay? 

Where was she?

Where was Lucas?!

Breathing turning shallow and panicked, she shifted around in the bed, looking for something…anything. 

It was Lucas’ soft breathing that startled her out of her panic, the sight of him alive and unharmed making her want to cry.

Her heart slowed as she watched him breathe, his chest a slow rise and fall. Eyes closed. Unharmed. Safe. Fine. 

She let out a strangled whimper, and his eyes cracked open.

“Mmm Maeve?” His voice was thick with sleep, raspy and hoarse. He rubbed his eyes with his arm, cracking an eye open. His brows furrowed when he saw the panic on her face. “Maeve?”

She let out a small whimper, falling into him.

He immediately pulled her closer, rocking them back and forth, smoothing her hair down and whispering soft things to her shoulder. She wrapped her whole body around him, trembling and trying not to sob. “Nightmare?”

Choking on her voice, she nodded. She moved closer into his chest, fingers going numb as she grasped his shirt. 

He kissed her shoulder, breathing softly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” 

He was warm. He was here. He was okay.

Just a nightmare.

“I’m right here,” he whispered as she listened to the rain. It clinked into buckets scattered around his room.

“Y-You’re here right? R-Real?” she asked against his neck.  

He slowly unraveled his arms, brushing her hair from her face. He kissed her forehead and he moved her hands. Exhaling softly, he kissed her fingertips. 

He pressed her hands to his chest, his heart beating erratically under her palms. With a sleepy smile, he rested his forehead against hers.

“Yep. Right here, see?” His voice was rough yet soft. “Not going anywhere.”

Her lip trembled. “C-Can I try something?” she whispered. 

He yawned a little, rubbing his nose against hers. “Mmm. Go ahead.”

She slowly let go of him, pushing his shoulders back, swinging her leg over his hips. His brows shot to his hairline. She couldn’t tell in the dark but she guessed he was flushed. 

“S-So what are you doing?” 

She curled her legs around his, her on top of his chest, cheek pressed against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Doing what y-you did but b-better,” she whispered, grabbing his hands and stretching them up onto the pillows beside his head.

She felt her heart slowly stop racing as she lay there, his heart slowing a little as well. 

“Only a nightmare,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

She slowly melted against him, relaxing her legs. The shirt she was borrowing from him bunched up around her hip, the fabric of his pants soft against her bare skin. 

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Why did…why did she have to ruin everything good? It was going fine.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whimpered, curling up a little. Her knee bumped his thigh a little roughly. He let go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her, rubbing small circles on her thighs. 

“Shhh,” he cooed, kissing her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Just a nightmare.”

“B-But I woke you up.”

He combed his hands through her hair. There was a low rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning. “You had a nightmare, Thumbelina. You can wake me up every time you have one. I won’t mind.”

“But you will mind,” she said, moving onto her elbows. She blinked tears away, another flash of lightning illuminating his face. “You’ll mind eventually! You’ll mind when I keep waking you when I keep-”

He gently caressed her cheek, pulling her hair away from her lip. “Your hair is a mess,” he whispered with a soft chuckle.

“Lucas,” she whined, moving closer to him. He tugged her off her elbows, letting her face plant into the crook of his neck. “You missed the point.”

“No I didn’t. I don’t know why I, of all people, would mind nightmares.” He fiddled with the bunched up shirt, making her mumble something into his neck. He smoothed out the fabric on her legs.

“I’m not going to mind them. Ever.”

It sounded like a promise. She hoped it was. 

“P-Promise?”

“Promise.”

She relaxed again, liking the weird way they fit together. “So y-you want…to share your bed with m-me more often?”

He chuckled, her body shaking with it. “Well, you’re not a bad bedmate.”

She let out a small sigh, kissing his neck. She nipped lightly at the skin there, making him squirm a little. “Not so…bad y-yourself.”

“Though I can deal without your cold appendages.”

She smiled, looking up from the crook of his neck. “Ooh big w-words.”

He shot her a glare. “Look, your toes are ice and it’s raining outside.”

She pursed her lips in a smug little smile, pressing her toes against his legs. He let out a low hiss, tugging lightly at the ends of her hair. She arched her neck into the touch, making him chuckle.

“Cruel.”

“Y-You balance m-m-me out.”

He huffed. “Unwillingly.”

Laying her chest on his, she listened to his heartbeat again. 

“Thank…thank you,” she murmured, peering up at him through her lashes. 

“For what? Comforting you? Maeve I would do it a thousand times over if it means you’re okay.”

She blushed, drawing back in surprise. “W-What?”

She couldn’t tell in the dark, but she thought he was blushing too. “Well…if you’ll have me, that is.”

She slowly shifted off of his chest, and nestled in the crook of his side. “I...I would like to. But y-you might...not want to. Later on.”

“Now is not later. Now I want to. It’s not something I’m going to adore doing, but…” he let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Jolie purred in her sleep, kicking her legs. “It’s you, okay? Maybe it’s because I spent months wondering what you were like, why you were trying to push me away.”

She sucked in a small breath, burying her face in his side. She didn’t want to see his expression. It was akin to a kicked puppy. 

“But you’re here now, right?” He idly traced shapes onto her upper thigh. “Nightmares or not you’re…” his voice got deathly quiet. “...here.”

Maybe she wasn’t the only broken one. 

She lifted her head to kiss him, really kiss him, softly. “And I don’t plan on going a-anywhere. Anytime soon that i-is. If you’ll…let m-m-me stay.”

He laughed, nuzzling her cheek before kissing her again. “Don’t plan on letting you go again.”

She smiled, pressing her hands on his stomach where his shirt hiked up. He let out another hiss, jumping a little. 

“You’re cold Thumbelina. Cold and cruel.”

“Well you don’t plan on letting m-me go again.”

“...I regret that now.”

She snorted, holding his face in her hands. “Can’t take me back now. I got attached to you, I-I’m all yours~”

He rubbed his nose against hers, kissing the tip. “Cold nose too. You really can’t escape it.”

“N-Nope!”

“Glad to see you back to normal. Even if you’re stuttering.” She smiled, looking away. “And glowing.”

“I a-always glow.”

“I want to know about them.”

“What, a-about my freckles?”

“Yeah.”

She yawned a little, exhaustion hitting her like a brick. “Mm m-maybe...later.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Here, turn around,” he whispered. She nervously shifted over, feeling him adjust his arms over her hips, crossing his arms and holding her hands above her chest. She was pressed against him, feeling his breath fan her neck.

“Better?”

“M-Mm!”

He chuckled, kissing behind her ear. “Good. Now get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you have another nightmare.”

She yawned again, it came out like a tiny squeak. “You won’t…be gone when I-I wake up?”

He kissed behind her ear. “I plan to stay in bed as long as I’m able. This time I have a lovely lady with me.”

Jolie meowed, making them laugh.

“Okay, two lovely ladies. One of them human.”

She pressed her back against his chest, letting out a deep breath as her eyes fluttered shut.

He moved to kiss her shoulder, making her squeak.

“I could get used to that sound.”

She let out a tiny huff, squeezing her eyes shut. “B-Better not. Y-You’re not hearing it often.”

He chuckled, tucking her legs between his. “Oh I’m sure I can wheedle it out of you.”

It was silent for a moment. “So you’ll be h-here…when I wake up right?”

He squeezed her hands. “Always. Now get some sleep.”

Her voice was soft, like any louder he’d fade away. “Okay.”

[myriadimagines]

One Way Trip

Game of Thrones One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Sandor Clegane

Other Characters: –

Warnings: violence

Request: “Hello you beautiful sunshine! I would like to request a Sandor Clegane one shot, where the reader loses sight of Sandor during the battle of winterfell and reader is really worried, (they are a couple) but in the last moment before the reader is killed by a whig Sandor saves them and we get a fluffy reunion, but after the battle Sandor wants to kill his brother, but reader begs him to don't go, ending is up to you if it's fluff or angst. Thank you very much, I hope you have a nice day!! 💕💖” – anonymous

Word Count: 1,639

A/N: I procrastinated this one so bad oh my god I’m sorry I hope it’s okay!!! Sorry the reunion isn’t super fluffy but I just felt like it didn’t really fit (both for the situation and the character) but I hope you still like it!!

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

You don’t think it’s possible to hear anything over the screams, the screams permeating through Winterfell, coursing through every hallway and every inch of the land like your own blood running through your veins. The screams of your fellow soldiers, the Northerners and the Free Folk and everyone in between who joined the fight against the Night King. It’s a garbled, distorted sound mixed with the relentless cry of the wights as their mindless bodies charge forward, decaying teeth bared as they snap and snarl at any flesh they can rip out.

Your head rings as you swing your sword, slashing out at any wight who scrambles towards you. Your sword is heavy, muscles weakened by lethargy and weighed down by your armour. A soldier behind you screams, and you turn around in time to see three wights pounce on him, a rusty sword plunging into his abdomen before you can stop it. He lets out a gargled sound, blood bubbling from his lips before the viscous liquid drips down his chin in abundance.

The screams become louder. A cry so deafening you can’t even hear your own screams.

More wights charge in as you peel your eyes away from the dying soldier, his arm outstretched to the sky as if he is reaching for the Gods, begging to be saved, to be pulled away from the battle. The thought inappropriately distracts you, and a sardonic laugh bubbles at the back of your throat as you think, surely, the Gods must have abandoned you all. Creatures so monstrous, so horrid, could have only been concocted from the very fabric of nightmares, that the Gods, the almighty Gods themselves have turned their backs to humanity.

You finally stumble backwards, raising your sword and driving it into the chest of a screeching wight that leaps forward. You yank it out harshly, the limp body of the wight falling to the floor before you crush its skull under your heavy boot for good measure. With heaving breaths, you whip around, eyes scanning the courtyard before your heart suddenly clenches with the realisation that you’ve lost him.

His name rips through your throat in a panic. “Sandor!”

Your cries are swallowed by the ocean of screams and cries of dying men, and tears sting your eyes as you blindly stumble forward, shoving past bodies in an attempt to find just one. You stumble over  the dead at your feet, forcing yourself to look into their lifeless faces and praying to whoever can bear to listen to the countless other prayers of dying men and terrified souls you know are being said tonight. Your heart simultaneously elates and sinks as you identify each corpse as someone who isn’t Sandor, yet you want to sink to the floor, want to come apart every time you see a similar face, each time you realise just how many have fallen during this battle that is far from over.

Disoriented, your body crashes against the wall, your fingers skimming over the stone as you attempt to regain your balance. Your sword drags against the floor, and a strangled sob lodges itself at the back of your throat as you cry out his name again. He was behind you, protecting you like he always does, and he had disappeared. It seems helpless, attempting to find him in the midst of the ruthless battle, yet for him, you refuse to give up. Pushing yourself off the wall and onto your feet again, you barely manage to get one step forward when the door beside you suddenly bursts open, wood splintering as a flood of wights spill into the hallway. You immediately retreat, screaming out warnings for the soldiers around you as they clumsily begin to run. One falls, tumbling onto the ground, and against your better judgement, you collapse onto the floor beside him, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him to his feet. The both of you don’t even make it upright before the first wight tackles you from behind, and you’re quick to use your sword to block its growling face from your throat, bony fingers scratching against your skin as you grit your teeth in pain. The wight struggles against you, yet you can’t muster enough strength to push it off your body, and the fight only becomes more difficult as more and more wights pile on top of you. Tears blur your vision, your raspy breaths becoming strained as you realise this is your grisly end. You feel yourself growing weaker with each passing second, and your eyes screw shut as you brace yourself for the inevitable pain that is to come.

You barely hear the low, guttural cry that charges towards you over the wights shrieking in your ear, but suddenly, the weight above you is lifted, and you sit up to see Sandor stumbling to his feet, sword swinging at the remaining wights he didn’t manage to knock off you. Not wasting any time, you pull a dagger from your belt and forcefully thrust it into the mouth of the wight wriggling at your side before you pull yourself to your feet, letting out a cry as you charge towards the wight about to attack Sandor from behind. You swing your sword, your blade beheading the wight, and Sandor finishes off the last wight before turning around to see the brittle skull shattering on the floor.

“Can’t stay out of trouble without me.” Sandor grunts, grabbing your arm as he pulls your close, eyes scanning your body for any injury. You chuckle slightly, raising a hand to touch the light trickle of blood on the side of his face. Shaking his head, he insists, “It’s nothing.”

He softens as your thumb gingerly brushes over his skin, a simple gesture that somehow helps him forget the horrors around him. You smile at him, a smile brimming with relief, and you struggle to hold back your tears, “I thought I lost you.”

“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” Sandor deadpans, and you scoff. Grabbing your hand, he presses a kiss to your temple as he continues, “We’ve got to keep moving.”

Nodding at him, you squeeze his hand before the two of you run back into the battle.

—

You find the rowdy atmosphere almost jarring when you think about the war that was waged and that the living had barely won. Drunken cheers fill the room, alcohol sloshing over already full glasses and spilling onto the wooden tables. There is exhaustion in everyone’s eyes, yet the victory overpowers it, the thrill of having fought against Death itself and coming out triumphant, save for the tremendous losses that unfortunately had to be sacrificed.

You sit opposite Sandor as his teeth sink into the roasted chicken that is being served. The both of you are famished, understandably so after constant fighting for the whole night. You listen to the disorderly hollers around you, mildly amused as you hear toast after toast, praise after praise and story after story of each person’s experience in the battle. Shaking your head, you take a swig from you almost sickeningly sweet mead before turning to Sandor.

“What?” Sandor asks, knowing well the expression on your face when you’re in thought. Dropping a bone onto his plate, he sloppily wipes his mouth with his sleeve as he raises his eyebrows at you.

“I can’t believe we’ve won.” you shrug, gesturing around you. “We did it.”

“We’re not done,” Sandor warns, and you press your lips together. “We’ve still got to fight those cunts in King’s Landing.”

Silence falls upon your conversation. You know there is an abundance of enemies in King’s Landing — Cersei and her soldiers, the Iron fleet — yet you know there is only one enemy Sandor is seeking to kill.

You reach out to grab Sandor’s hand, your finger intertwining with his as Sandor fixes his gaze, his focus, on how your hand fits over his while you insist, “My love, don’t let vengeance consume you.”

A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “It’s too late for me, y/n.”

“No, it isn’t.” your reply firmly, hand gripping tighter around his. Still trying to recover from the utter fear that had gripped your insides when you thought you had lost Sandor on the battlefield, you are far from ready to let him ago again, to let that fear settle in and make itself at home every day until he would return from King’s Landing to you. Desperate, you plead, “Sandor, please, don’t go. Stay in Winterfell with me.”

His eyes finally flicker up to meet yours. You wish you could see the hesitation flicker in his irises, could see some form of uncertainty, but the resolute expression on his face terrifies you. Your hand weakens, slowly pulling away from his as you realise there is no changing his mind, no stopping him from exacting the revenge he has spent years thinking about, and you can feel your already frail heart beginning to crumble.

Sandor catches your hand before you manage to pull away fully. He has prepared himself for a one way trip, prepared to accept whatever fate awaits him, yet for you, he lies, “I’ll be back.”

You nod, breaths becoming shaky as Sandor brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles, and you choose to believe him.

Later, you would watch him mount his horse after kissing him and trying to remember every intricate details of his lips. And as you would watch his retreating back, his horse treading down the path and disappearing into the hills, you would find yourself unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, unable to ignore the whispers in your head that would tell you this would be the last time you saw him.

tags: @chinike / @gofandomsandotherstuff / @emmacata / @pascalisthepunkest ↳ want to be added to the tag list?

[its-love-u-asshole]

Twelve Hours [Ch. 6]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just…a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: Yay, I got through hell chapter lol. Action scenes are the worst, let me tell you, but I hope everyone enjoys this update! I think the pain was worth it... Big thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over! 

AO3

There was nothing quite as jarring as waking up one morning, everything as normal and mundane as the last, only to find the human right to living had been tossed into a raging hellfire.

The announcement of the Purge and its passing had put a hold on Kuroo's thoughts; no more qualms about the homework he didn't proofread the night before, or the Poptarts burning in the toaster. Kuroo forgot them all, and would continue to ignore them until the burning turned to smoke and sent the alarm blaring through his eardrums.

No, Kuroo had just stared at the television, life knocked off the rails with no hopes of finding the previous track ever again. He never thought anything would be quite as disorienting as that, but he had to admit, getting hit with a car came pretty fucking close.

The next hit caused him to lurch forward, and the seatbelt dug into the skin of his neck. He couldn't see anything except flashes of headlights and blurred faces, but he needed to snap out of it, needed to get control where he could.

Thank god Terushima wasn't a completely hopeless driver.

"Yuuji, back up! Back up!" Futakuchi yelled, and the blind trust which existed between them paid off. Terushima put the car into reverse with jerky, but efficient motions, not stopping to question why or how come.

Thank god, or else their front would've been unsalvageable.

The other car, zipped past the windshield, barely missing them, before correcting itself again. The car might've been smaller, but that heavy armor was not fucking around and neither were the drivers.

In short:

"Fucking step on it!" Tsukishima ordered, finally finding his voice, and no one was going to not listen to that.

"Oh fuck, oh shit, oh--"

"Yuuji." A chorus of three voices sounded, panicked, but loud enough to make Terushima put his foot to the floor. They sped off in a haze of sparks and burnt rubber, tearing down the street onto a section of empty freeway. No one cared about staying on course. Right then, it was about getting out alive.

Alive...

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima sat, instantly finding the sizable dent visible from where they'd first been rammed at the side. If the car had been any less secure...

Tsukishima, who'd also been marveling at his 'near death' marker, just laughed nervously. "I know this is a really bad time, but the shell of this car is amazing."

And Kuroo, despite the way his body lurched from a sudden turn, regardless of how he could see the sedan barreling behind them, couldn't help but laugh back. If he and Tsukishima still kept their humor through all this, maybe he'd be able to not think about the game of vehicular pinball they'd been forced into.

Maybe.

As if there to shatter that, the sedan revved its engine, now beside them, and--

"Shit!" Suga cried out as he leaped to the other side of the car, not caring about Yamamoto's personal space as the car angled itself to hit the driver side. It missed, but Kuroo doubted it would again.

Terushima broke hard, arm moving to pin Futakuchi against his seat as they all flew forward. Swearing, Terushima let the car get ahead of them for a split second before moving the van into a full u-turn, taking them down another desolate stretch of highway bridge.

Yamamoto barfed, but no one seemed to fault him for it.

And damn that stupid little sedan, it had no problem adjusting itself, already on their tail again.

"These people are insane!" Terushima's voice screamed over the screech of metal as he turned the wheel frantically, not caring where the car went as long as it was away. He looked over his shoulder, taking the van's accelerator to its limits and doing his best to block the other car.

"They know that!" Kuroo yelled, but it hardly mattered when they were grazed again, only somewhat saved by Futakuchi's quick thinking. The brunet grabbed the steering wheel, turning it sharply so they swerved off the adjacent exit.

Didn't help much.

"Fuck," Kuroo growled, weighing the pros and cons of asking Terushima to open a window so he or Tsukishima could shoot. But if the other car had guns, which they certainly did....

"Too risky, too..." Tsukishima muttered beside him, and it was only after a few seconds Kuroo realized he wasn't talking to him, but himself. His golden eyes flicked about the cabin, straying on the windows, scratching at the leather, anything which might lead him to a solution.

And that was when Kuroo realized the bitter truth. No matter how prepared he or Tsukishima had been for this night, no matter how much they knew what to expect, when moments like these actually came there was no room for rational thought. No amount of knowledge or planning would change the fact that as soon as danger arose, all thoughts flew out the window, and all that was left was pure instinct, and the will to live.

Ha. And he'd thought his bullet proof vest was gonna help. So rich.

"Go faster!" Suga begged, his voice breaking, and he clung to Yamamoto's jacket like a lifeline. Yamamoto just sat there, staring lifelessly ahead.

The engine revved. The sedan nudged their back bumper.

"I--I don't--this is as fast as it goes! I don't--"

"You don't know what you're doing!" Tsukishima practically snarled from the backseat, and to Kuroo's horror, he looked prepared to jump from his seat just to take the wheel for himself.

Tsukishima's belt was already off by the time Kuroo figured out that was precisely what he planned to do, and as Tsukishima rose from his seat, Kuroo's arms wrapped around his waist in a flash, pulling him down with a fierceness that shocked even him.

The next hit came, and they lurched forward, but Kuroo did not let Tsukishima leave his arms.

"Don't ever do that." Kuroo's voice quivered, and he knew it wasn't an order, or laced with anger.

Tsukishima didn't take it as such either, just squirmed in Kuroo's arms until their eyes could meet, hand on Kuroo's pulse, frantic. "We have to do something! They're going to run us off the road if we don't--"

"There's no way I'm letting that tiny piece of shit run us off the road! Fuck that," Terushima hissed, following the curve of another ramp. He hit part of the median, taking the turn too fast, and his side mirror snapped off. "Dammit!"

"Hey did you not see what kind of car that is? Be realistic," Tsukishima scolded, and as usual, Terushima wasn't having it.

"So what? I've got just as much thick plating on this car as--"

"No, it's a fucking Honda!" At this point, Tsukishima was so enraged, he slapped his hands against the seat on either side of Kuroo's head, his voice distraught and gargling. "Don't underestimate people who drive Hondas, they're vindictive little bitches and they're not going to give up!"

"Oh my--shut up!" Futakuchi screamed back. "Whatta you know? Do you drive a Honda?"

Tsukishima leaned forward in Kuroo's arms, not minding the constraints as he growled back. "Yes smartass, I do."

Sure enough, what was supposed to be an insult quickly dissolved into a revelation. As soon as Futakuchi made the connection, his face showed it, the fact they were all fucked finally dawning on him. "Ah shit."

"Yeah, exactly," Kuroo couldn't help but add.

The car lurched again, and Kuroo took action, pinning Tsukishima to his seat until he got his seatbelt refastened. With that solved, he loaded up his gun, seeing no other way at this point.

"Kuroo, you can't." Tsukishima leaned forward, and Kuroo stubbornly pushed him back. "If they shoot back--"

"It's that or lose the car," Kuroo replied, fixing Tsukishima with an intense stare. The conflict showed on Tsukishima's face; he knew Kuroo was right. Even if they survived a crash and got away, being on foot during the Purge....

Unthinkable.

At this point, Kuroo was pleading."It's strong but it won't take many more hits like the first one. We're obviously not going to lose them, so--"

"Yes we are!" Terushima cried back, revving the engine to no effect. There were tears in his eyes. "I sacrificed so much to get to Takahashi and no one is ruining that for me!"

"Yuuji," Futakuchi begged, hand tightening on Terushima's wrist. "We can't--"

"I won't go back to my mom like this!"

Suga's head popped up from where he'd been hiding in Yamamoto's shoulder, eyes flashing with something pitiful.

Futakuchi only stared, hand falling away even as the car rocked. "Yuuji..."

Kuroo wondered if it was the gasoline in the air making his head cloud up.

Kuroo couldn't hold it against Terushima. His desperation, his refusal to be defeated...

Those were things which had been so strong in Kuroo at some point. To think he'd been robbed of them tore him in two. But they weren't gone completely, and his willingness to help Terushima proved that. It might cost him his life but, he wanted to be useful again, wanted to fight for something.

Kuroo's only regret would be that in the grand scheme of the Purge, his death would be nothing but a statistic delivered cheerfully by the morning news anchor. That, and he'd never be able to see Tsukishima again.

But no. No way. There had to be a way to get out of this...They just needed Terushima to--

"Well if these guys kill us, you won't go back at all," Tsukishima voice, cold but loud, rang through the car as blunt as ever. Suga winced, and Futakuchi looked close to berating him, but Tsukishima continued to shout. "I know it sucks, I know nothing is going to stop you from getting where you want to be...from your revenge! But don't be an idiot! All this means nothing if you end up dead on the side of the road, so quit whining!"

Kuroo looked to where Tsukishima's hands were curled at his side, shaking, and not from the car ride. Tsukishima related, perhaps too much, and Kuroo promised to stay alive just to find out how much so.

If only Terushima had listened.

Terushima's eyes widened, and he hit the steering wheel with his free hand, shaking his head. The blare of the horn rang out. The delusional muttering filled the car, and Kuroo knew it was over. "It won't catch us, it won't..."

Kuroo looked behind him slowly, just as the sedan found an opening.

Even as he tried to scold him, Tsukishima's voice had a fearful edge. "It will with your drivi--turn, turn!" Tsukishima's voice was too little too late though. Futakuchi reached for the wheel, his hand tightening over Terushima's as they turned it, but it was pointless.

The sedan had veered around them, risking it all to slide against them. Afraid and trapped, Terushima took the bait.

The tires screeched as Terushima turned them too quickly, the car spinning out until it connected with a pole. Kuroo wished darkness had settled in fast as soon as he grabbed Tsukishima's hand, but unfortunately, he stayed as aware as he'd always been, the crash whirling by in slow motion.

--

When he'd promised himself he wouldn't let go of Tsukishima, he had meant it, even if he had to be dragged out of the car with him and onto the rough pavement.

Even as hands tugged at Kuroo's shirt and kicked at his body, he stayed glued to the blond, and he didn't care when the ground scraped skin from his palm.

Tsukishima hissed as his elbow slammed against the cement from being thrown down, but didn't release Kuroo's other hand. Guess the feeling was mutual, or maybe Tsukishima needed something to steady him. Either way, Kuroo's hold tightened.

Don't do anything brash.

He couldn't say it, so he stared at Tsukishima, asking, begging for him to stay down.

The blond looked absolutely livid, and the only real reason he'd probably stayed put on the cold floor was the gun pointed casually at his chest. It sent fear rushing up Kuroo's entire body, and he moved to push himself in front of the weapon, only to be kicked down by a pair of cleats.

Kuroo coughed, and Tsukishima immediately pushed against the gun, drawing attention away from Kuroo.

So pathetic, Kuroo told himself. When would Tsukishima stop protecting all of them by himself? It wasn't fair to the blond. Kuroo should've been carrying some of that weight.

"I hate fighters, and you guys reek like 'em," the masked man spat, pushing the gun into Tsukishima's clavicle. Again, Kuroo watched as Tsukishima's eyes bulged in panic, but not from the fear of death. Despite the way the gun bruised porcelain skin, Tsukishima looked observant, clinical, his thoughts racing to get them out of this.

Kuroo had to do the same.

Kuroo's gun sat out of reach, and if he moved for the knife in his pant leg, he'd surely be noticed. This guy was too close to make a move...

Hopeful thoughts, too hopeful, raced in his mind.

Yeah. They could do this. Some kind of surprise attack? Maybe if one of the others could get free they could...

"Get off me!" He heard Suga snarl as he too was dragged from the wrecked car, and his glare didn't diminish when his body slammed against asphalt. His body trembled, afraid, but well, Kuroo could tell by now Suga did not like being controlled.

"Shut up!" One of the assailants said, one of four, from what Kuroo could now discern. The man made a move to slap Suga across the face, and he flinched, but it didn't stop the rage from bubbling out of his mouth.

"Fuck you! You first!"

Kuroo wanted to think he was an idiot. That he was too naive and this show of bravery would mean nothing if it got him killed. Kuroo always tended to think things like that, because admiring someone's actions during the Purge meant very little to him. What was the point?

But now, looking at Suga's dirt stained cheek and disheveled person, he felt nothing but respect.

At least Suga made some good impressions during the short time in this life.

Instead of punishing Suga though, the man looked to his friend, the smile on the mask conveying the sick cruelty well for once. So cliche, so stupid, and Kuroo was just as dumb, powerless to do anything except fling pointless insults in his head.

The other accomplice responded to the look by pointing both his guns to the huddled heap which was Terushima and Futakuchi.

Against his better judgement, Kuroo called out, demanding. "Get away from them!"

But no one bothered him with a glance, he wasn't going anywhere after all. Not with Tsukishima under the mercy of a gun. Trapped.

Suga's breathing trembled, and he stared, fixated on his friends as they were threatened for the first time.

Futakuchi sat there, curled up and hand clutching his head from the shock of the crash. Terushima's hand cradled his head too, as if the extra touch would solve all his ailments. Of course, it didn't. Futakuchi wasn't in any state to speak or look up at what endangered him, much less fight back. Not that Terushima would let him, from where he curled himself over Futakuchi, shielding him from both guns.

"See, that's what I thought," the assailant laughed, watching Suga's speechless face. He tapped the gun against Suga's cheek, but that didn't do much to change his expression. The shock stayed, persistent. "Whoops, I broke him."

The man next to Tsukishima, who Kuroo now noticed wore a striped tie, clicked his tongue. "They're no fun when they're like that. Gonna have to snap him out of it somehow..."

Tsukishima and Kuroo looked at each other helplessly, echoing each other's thoughts.

What do we do? We have to help them. We said we'd help them.

Tsukishima grit his teeth so hard Kuroo thought they might shatter, glancing between every member of the group of assailants.

Right. They knew what they were dealing with.

Striped Tie is here with us. Double Barrel hasn't moved from Terushima and Futakuchi...

The man currently prodding at Suga, who Kuroo referred to as Blue because of the god awful blueberry jeans he wore, only sighed.

But wait, there were four before...

Where--

"Hey Reo, maybe we should bring out their friend's body," Blue called out, his voice filled with a disgusting level of amusement which made Kuroo's blood run cold. "I'm sure that'll get a reaction."

Kuroo heard a choking noise, and barely processed that it came from him.

Terushima's body whipped around at the same time all their heads turned, looking back to their beat up van. Another man, Reo, sat against the side casually, fitting perfectly into a dent. Behind him, in the second row of seats, Yamamoto was hunched over, lifeless.

Kuroo's stomach twisted at the same time Tsukishima's head fell forward, disbelieving. The sound from Suga's throat was not human.

They'd failed. He'd failed. No one was supposed to--

"Yeah," Reo sighed, reaching in to pat Yamamoto's motionless form. "They can't all make it I guess."

"Don't touch him!" Tsukishima's head flew back up, and it was...it was scary enough to make even Striped Tie flinch a little. "I--I'll--"

But then, Terushima's weak tone broke through the dread drenched night. It reminded Kuroo of a whimper, and when Kuroo looked to him, he wished he hadn't. "W-wha--no. No, he's--"

The limbs holding onto Futakuchi had stiffened, as if Terushima's body were nothing but a sculpture. The only thing which told Kuroo the other hadn't just died from shock, was the trembling of his lip, the sheen of his eyes. "Yamamoto..."

In that moment, all Kuroo wanted to do was apologize, but he didn't know if he'd be given that chance.

I'm sorry you had to go through this.

Worst of all, Kuroo couldn't completely say he was surprised.

"Ah, it's the driver," Striped Tie laughed, unaware of the dread seeping into the group. He addressed Terushima, but Kuroo doubted the other heard any of it. His head had moved from Yamamoto's direction, fixed against the asphalt. "Good job by the way! That was a fun chase, you need to work on parking though. Maybe then your friend would've fared better."

Kuroo made a move to stand, to punch someone in the face, but Tsukishima's hand flew to his, pinning him there. Kuroo could feel the graininess of his palm, where the gravel had stuck.

No, Kuroo couldn't sit here. There had to be something he could do.

All his dumb internal advice about caution, rationale, and survival went down the drain. Someone was dead, someone he promised himself to watch over. Nothing mattered except saving the rest of them, some sick form of redemption he didn't have time to think about. Perhaps it was the selfish kind too, or the plain unwillingness to die himself.

Whatever it was, he had no time to be ashamed. He had to fight. If only Tsukishima would let go.

"Just let us go! Why do you even want us?" Suga shouted, and what a useless question, but it got the attention off Terushima.

"Why? Because we can," Double Barrel replied, shrugging like they'd just asked him what he wanted for dinner instead. “Two of us saw you dicking around at the gas station, you were easy targets.”

And yeah, Kuroo expected as much. Purging wasn't supposed to have a point. Not everyone listened to that, Terushima for instance. The point of the night was to release 'primal urges,' or that's what all the propaganda said. Killing for sport, essentially.

"For us," Blue jumped in, ruffling Suga's hair. "You were in the right place at the right time. A van full of idiots, perfect for purging."

"Not idiots," Tsukishima muttered beside him, seething, and Kuroo began to worry about how his shoulders shook. Upon looking down though, he noticed Tsukishima's fingers slowly scratching at the loose chunks of asphalt, suppressing himself with the cruel motions. No wonder his palms had been so rough...

Wait.

Kuroo hated the expressions about lightbulbs going off in people's heads, but it was the closest comparison right then. The chunks Tsukishima had managed to scratch free were medium sized, large enough to throw, to maybe obscure vision...

And yeah, it was a shit plan. A shit lightbulb. The goons were close by, even if they were just joking around with each other and not paying too close attention. If Kuroo managed to get it in Striped Tie's face, then great, he'd get shot by one of the others in the next second. But, he hoped the moment of distraction would let Suga or one of the others get the upper hand.

Even that wasn't a solid plan. None of them seemed in the right state of mind to think so fast.

But Kuroo had to try. If he could take one hostage then they'd have some equal footing...

In any case, he'd free Tsukishima, and that was a threat in and of itself.

Slowly, Kuroo moved to scoop up the rocks and pebbles, nudging Tsukishima's hand out of the way. But the blond's other hand clamped down on his, not allowing him to move.

One look at Tsukishima's face, and it became clear.

Ah, must've had the same idea as me then.

Kuroo almost laughed. Made sense, Tsukishima didn't seem like the type of person to do anything without reason, including digging up the floor.

Regardless, Kuroo's resolve was hard to move. He looked at the blond, taking in his features just in case. The darkness under his light eyes, the long eyelashes, the almost fully faded scar on his cheek which he hadn't noticed before...

He wished he'd been able to reach out and trace it, just once.

Let me do this. Let me help you this time.

Kuroo hoped his pleading carried through into his expression, willing Tsukishima to follow him for once. When the shaky hand against his loosened its grip, Kuroo knew they had an agreement.

Be safe.

That's really all he could hope for, the rest he left in Tsukishima's capable hands.

He steadied himself, put weight on his foot, and took his last breath, vision tunneling to see Striped Tie's laughing face alone.

This was his only shot, and he counted a few beats, letting the energy build in his muscles before rising up. 3...2...1...

Before he could lunge, or even move, a fist connected right against Reo's face, bringing all eyes to him.

Double Barrel hesitated, Blue dropped his gun, and Kuroo didn't take the time to comprehend how Yamamoto had manifested out of nowhere. He looked at Tsukishima, and from then it was all instinct.

Kuroo lunged at the same moment Tsukishima grabbed his gun from his back pocket, turning towards Blue and firing with no hesitation. And at this distance, those rubber bullets lost the label of 'non-lethal' real quick.

But Tsukishima didn't shake or tremble when Striped Tie was brought to the floor by Kuroo, only waited for Kuroo to roll a safe distance away before firing.

"H-hold it right there!" Double Barrel turned both his guns away from Terushima and Futakuchi, but it did him no good. He was distracted, aiming at Tsukishima when the real threat came from his side. All it took was Tsukishima hitting him in the leg for him to drop one gun, allowing Yamamoto to grab it.

The next few seconds were an eternity, but regardless, he didn't take his eyes off of Double Barrel as he lived his last moments.

"Wait, stop!" Double Barrel pleaded, but hadn't they all plead enough?

In the back of his head, Kuroo wished it would've been him firing the gun though, just for the sake of keeping Yamamoto the same man as before this night, but some things were not meant to be. It had to be done, this night couldn't go perfectly.

The Purge never did.

Fueled by pure adrenaline and protective instincts, Yamamoto fired straight into Double Barrel's head, ending it.

The gunshot rang out, echoing down the empty stretch of road. Tsukishima gasped lightly, finally lowering his weapon as his head cleared. Yeah, I know. The blond most likely realized all the things Kuroo had. Yamamoto was alive, but they still hadn't managed to save him in other ways. Somehow, Kuroo knew that disappointment would come back to them eventually, but at least it didn't weigh as heavy as blood.

Kuroo walked slowly towards Yamamoto's quivering form, hands raised. "Hey man, you got him. It's okay now..."

Or as okay as it could be.

"Tora," Suga whispered, walking past Kuroo, past the invisible perimeter he had marked. Unafraid. He didn't think Yamamoto would hurt him. "Time to put the gun down, alright?"

Kuroo felt Tsukishima come up behind him, also following the order by holstering his gun as well. Kuroo mouthed a silent thank you, but truthfully he couldn't express just how grateful he was.

All eyes were on Yamamoto, waiting, watching for some sort of reaction. Even Terushima looked stunned as he lifted Futakuchi to his feet, gaze flicking to every corpse on the floor.

Yamamoto looked between all of them slowly, then at Double Barrel's body, and at the gun in his hand. His eyes went from dead, to clear, to frantic, and he turned every which way, the realization dawning on him. He let the gun fall to the ground, then abruptly clutched at his stomach, and--oh. Oh okay yeah, he's puking. Awesome.

The shattering of frozen time didn't happen the way Kuroo expected, but come to think of it, this made perfect sense.

Yamamoto heaved, but after that car ride, not much was left in that stomach of his.

"What the fuck! Guys!" He threw his hands up, gesturing to the bodies and the blood on his jeans. He looked downright ridiculous. "There's so much--wha--look! All the--the blood. Oh my god--"

"Er...Tora..."

"Fuck! I just killed someone! Holy fuck, shit--"

"Yeah congrats," Tsukishima deadpanned, his face losing its concern in favor of the usual annoyance. "You seem just fine to me..."

"I know," Kuroo muttered, leaning into the blond. "They don't make criminals like they used to. Did they even check his vitals?"

"Apparently not."

"Hey assholes, I was out cold! It sure felt like I'd died," Yamamoto hissed, his hands moving across his limbs and abdomen. His panic turned into a delirious grin at the realization he had every piece intact.

"So what, you just woke up?" Tsukishima asked, walking towards where Suga was currently checking Yamamoto's head for worse injuries. Thick skull on that guy...

Yamamoto swatted Suga's hands away. "Pretty much, and then I saw all the guns and...yeah, I lost my shit when I saw you guys in trouble."

"You could have died," Kuroo scolded, but deep down, he was beyond thankful.

"That's a weird way to phrase 'hey Yamamoto, thanks for saving my life' but I'll take it," he replied with a sniff, and a poorly concealed smile. And well, how could Kuroo fight with that. He smirked, giving an appreciative nod.

"Fine fine," Tsukishima sighed. "But please, no scares next time."

"You do care!"

"Shut it."

It was then Futakuchi's groan captured their attention, the brunet rubbing at his head with dreary eyes."I don't know exactly what happened, but...we won yeah?"

Tsukishima arched a brow. "Are you alive?"

"Who knows."

"Good enough."

Terushima handed Futakuchi gently over to Suga before rushing to Yamamoto's side. He looked like he wanted to tackle him to the ground, hug him until he ran out of breath. But something made him falter in his step, like Yamamoto being alive was too good to be true.

He touched Yamamoto's arm, the flesh firm and real against his, and then he sighed, shaky and relieved all at once.

"Tora...you're really--you're not dead. Oh my god...you're not dead!" Terushima laughed, the tears beading in the corners of his eyes as he finally embraced his friend. "Thank god you're not dead! I'm...I'm so--"

"Shut it, you're still the best leader," Yamamoto said gruffly, rolling his eyes. "Even if you can't drive."

Terushima sobbed through his laugh, and Suga and Futakuchi joined in, huddling around the two. It made Kuroo smile, glad they could stay together.

Yet...

"There's still hours to go," Tsukishima whispered beside him, watching the makeshift family reunion with barely concealed wistfulness. He didn't sound hopeful or afraid either way, but the statement was eerie enough to make Kuroo figure out the point.

Anything could happen in those hours.

But somehow, watching the group hug and cry in front of him, and with Tsukishima by his side, he wasn't as worried as he was before.

"Then, we'll just have to get through those hours," he said, rolling his shoulders back. Tsukishima turned to him, eyes widening as the words sank in. Then, slowly, acceptance settled in those beautiful eyes, and Kuroo stared at the blond's lips as they formed the smallest of smiles.

Again, not everything that night had turned out so bad.

He did have a tiny afterthought though...

"Hey," he said softly, undoing the straps of his bullet proof vest. Tsukishima watched him with concern, the protests so clearly on the tip of his tongue. "I want you to wear this."

"Kuroo-"

"Nope, you're more likely to get in a gunfight than I am," Kuroo laughed, tying the vest around Tsukishima's form against the other's wishes. Shockingly, Tsukishima didn't put up as much of a fight as he could've, and Kuroo truly believed he could've. But instead of leaving Kuroo on his ass, Tsukishima stood frozen as their bodies scrunched close together, and Kuroo fastened the vest.

If Kuroo didn't know any better, he'd say they were both holding their breath. But, that must've just been his imagination talking.

"No taking it off you hear?" He asked, smirk extra infuriating.

Tsukishima's eye twitched, and he crossed his arms, but he made no move to remove the article. The reluctant resignation in those eyes made Kuroo want to pick him up and hug him. "You realize you just jinxed yourself right? What if you get shot now?"

Kuroo shrugged. The fear from earlier that night had faded, now he had someone to watch out for. "We'll have to see."

A scoff, and a smile. Music to Kuroo's ears. "Geek."

They lingered on each other for a moment longer before Terushima's long suffering groan called them back to the land of the living.

"God, I can't believe that just happened!" Terushima said, baffled as he wiped his eyes.

"You giant moron, you scared him half to death," Futakuchi muttered, back to using Terushima's shoulder as a personal crutch. Neither of them minded much.

"Okay but see, I was totally right earlier," Yamamoto proclaimed, smile big and smug, a relief to Kuroo. Guess he wasn't completely scarred, or he wasn't showing it. He'd have to pull him aside and talk about it later.

Futakuchi squinted. "Huh? About what?"

Kuroo had a bad feeling about the words before they even left his mouth, but only Tsukishima's whisper of 'oh god' really prepared him for it.

Yamamoto coughed in disbelief. "Uh, the Snickers bar? I told you I needed that shit for energy, and it completely paid off. Who's selfish now? Not me."

The silence which enveloped the street made Kuroo wince, and thank god Suga did something about it.

The other seemed thoroughly done with everyone shit, and pointed towards the car like he was talking to a two year old. Accurate. "Just...just go over there please. I changed my mind, I can't look at you anymore."

"What?"

"Mm, speaking of, maybe we shouldn't be standing out here like this...." Terushima looked around, on guard and way more wary than before.

"Yeah, I'd hate to have a gun pointed at me three times in one night," Tsukishima said, smiling all the way as he walked to the car. Everyone gladly cleared his path.

He appraised their van, walking around to survey the tires and dents. Kuroo, as badass as he seemed (or thought himself to be in his little delivery car), knew shit about cars. Then again, who knew if Tsukishima knew shit about cars either. Point was, Kuroo trusted him, and he didn't question the way Tsukishima popped the hood and scrutinized every detail.

Man, how could he have missed a person like this?

He'd regret it everyday of his life.

"As banged up as this thing is, most of the damage is cosmetic," Tsukishima said, slamming the hood back down after a few minutes. He glanced towards Terushima, smirking. "Guess you didn't do a terrible job after all. This thing's still drivable."

Terushima grit his teeth. "You little--"

"That's great!" Suga said, way too cheerfully, and piled right back into the behemoth. "Now let's go before we uh, I don't know, get shot."

They all nodded ruefully, because well...they'd had enough of that nonsense.

As Terushima took a step towards the driver's door though, they all paused, looking to Tsukishima as the blond eyed the steering wheel.

The silent hope was there, searing, and even Terushima couldn't feel wounded over it. It had to be done.

Tsukishima tapped his chin, as if he was actually thinking it over, when they all knew damn well he'd already decided. Of course, a few moments later: "You know, maybe I should dr--"

And thus, before he could finish, the unanimous chorus ruled: "Please drive."