#she gets up there and screams her lungs out to no lodging for the mad by the taxpayers

[thermodynamic-comedian]

i am like one encouraging reply away from writing a crackfic where all the avatars go to a karaoke bar and each eyevatar gives a shockingly different yet cunt-serving performance.

#everybody else is placing bets on what each of them is gonna sing #all of them lose every single bet. because literally nobody knows these three fuckers as well as they think they do. #jon has to get just a little drunk to be actually convinced #but eventually he gives an emotional performance of up the wolves by the mountain goats #nobody's actually expecting gertrude to sing anything and yet #she gets up there and screams her lungs out to no lodging for the mad by the taxpayers #NOBODY is quite certain what to expect out of jonah. i mean this could go any way possible. #actually even I'M not certain. #can't pick between all i wanted by paramore and thermodynamic lawyer by will wood. #paramore would be funnier #and more honest to my own interpretation #but thermodynamic lawyer might be more accurate to the overall fanon interpretation #the magnus archives #tma #tma shitpost #jonathan sims #gertrude robinson #jonah magnus

[kyojirokagenuma]

The Lost Twin Chapter One

When the missing and presumed dead Beth Washington is suddenly discovered alive a month later, no one knows what to think. There's no sign of Hannah, and Beth appears to have amnesia, remembering nothing of how she survived or where she had been. Her friends are overjoyed at her miraculous survival, but Beth remains haunted by the loss of her sister and scattered, horrifying images of her lost memories. She has Sam. She has Josh. Whether she'll be able to forgive the others remains to be seen.

Then Josh convinces everyone to return to the lodge in honor of Hannah. Beth must now revisit the site of her disappearance, and confront all the madness that comes with it.

Beth/Sam Pairing

"Only one way out. Only one way.”

-February 2nd, 2014, Sometime Around Midnight -

- Beth Washington, February 3rd, 2015, 5:48 a.m.

"What’s going on, where's my sister going?” Beth asked, pushing her way through the group. She reached the front and looked out into the woods, to see nothing. No Hannah. Visibility in this blizzard was next to zero. She turned to the others with a harsh glare. “What the hell did you guys do?”

“She's overreacting, it was just a little prank, Beth,” Mike shrugged.

“You know how upset she gets!” Beth screamed at him, and he took a startled step back.

“Beth, calm down.”

“Calm down? She could die out there, you asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Beth stepped forward and drove her fist into Mike’s stomach.

Mike hadn’t seen it coming. Every speck of air fled his lungs at once as he doubld over, his eyes wide in astonishment. Beth spun around, sprinting into the woods after her sister before Mike dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Hannah! Hannah!” Beth called out in desperation as she too vanished into the storm.

“Jesus, what the fuck,” Mike coughed, spitting in the snow.

“Damn, she got you real good, huh?” Matt asked with a grin while a few of the others snickered at his expense. He knelt down to see if he was okay.

“That girl hits fucking hard,” Mike said gasping.

Sam crossed her arms, looking unsympathetic. “You had that coming, dude.”

Beth ran into the blizzard after her fleeing sister. Hannah always had a history of behaving irrationally and getting herself into trouble. This wasn’t the first time Beth found herself running after her. She was never crazy enough to run into a damn blizzard before though. Beth held her hand in front of her face to shield her from the snow. She could hardly see a thing.

“Hannah! Hannah? Where are you, sis?” Beth called out.

No answer. All she could hear was the howling wind crashing against her own skin. It wasn’t long before Beth realized she wouldn’t grt far without getting lost herself.

“Fuck, this is not good,” said Beth to herself.

All she could do was keep going. She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t leave her sister out here. If something happened to her, she’d never forgive herself.

“Hannah! Come on, Hannah! Please come out!”

Despite Beth’s begging, no response came. She trudged on, muscling her way through the snowstorm. She came to a choice between two paths. She cast her gaze down, spotting Hannah’s barely visible footprints in the snow. Headed left. Another few seconds and they'd have been completely covered.

“Hannah! Hannah?”

Still no answer.

Beth pressed on, fighting the frigid cold and stinging gusts of wind. If she didn’t find her soon, she didn’t know what she’d do. She was getting desperate, fearful that she would never see her sister again. She had to keep going. Her sister needed her. She called out one more time.

“Hannah? Hannah!”

“Beth?” came a weak, but audible reply.

Beth’s face lit up. “Hannah! Where are you?”

Beth just followed the sound of a young woman’s cries and sobs. “God, those assholes are gonna pay for this,” she mumbled to herself. “They’re so dead.”

As she neared the source of the noise, her sister’s silhouette came into view. “Hannah! Thank God.”

She took off running towards Hannah, throwing both arms around her. Hannah leaned forward, crying into her shoulder.

“Beth, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot,” she said through her sobs.

“It’s okay, Hannah. Really.”

“It’s not okay. I ran out here and made you chase me through a blizzard. I’m such a fuckup.”

“Come on, you must be cold,” Beth said, stripping off her own jacket and giving it to Hannah. “Let's get you back to the lodge, we ne-.”

A series of loud growls cut her off. Beth and Hannah spun around to see a pack of wolves coming straight for them, baring their teeth as they stalked their prey.

“Oh, shit!” Beth pulled Hannah back, trying to flee.

Hannah almost fell over, scrambling away. “Fuck!”

Neither realized they were right on the edge of a cliff until it was too late. The storm had cut off almost all visibility. Beth backed off the ledge, slipping on the icy rock face. She shot one hand forward and latched onto a root before she fell any further. Hannah came next, screaming and tumbling off the edge just as her sister did. Beth grabbed Hannah’s hand, holding onto to the root with one hand and her sister with the other.

“Hannah! Hold on!”

“Oh God, Beth! This is all my fault! We’re both gonna die because of me!” Hannah cried in despair.

“No one’s gonna die!”

The wolves were advancing, their growls growing louder. The sisters were cornered by predators, ready to fall to their deaths. Then they heard a strange noise. It sounded like fire. Like a blowtorch. The wolves suddenly began whimpering, and their presence faded. The next second, an unknown figure entered their view, looming over the both of them. A frightening masked man with a flamethrower on his back. Beth’s eyes widened in fear, only for the man to bend down, offering his open hand.

“That root won’t hold!” he yelled at them.

Beth looked down to her scared sister, then back up at the man. “I-I can’t! Help us up!���

“I can’t lift the both of you!”

Hannah’s face fell. She already knew, even if Beth didn’t. There was no way both of them were making it out of this. Only Beth had a chance, but not so long as she was holding on to her. Hannah had a choice to make, and to her, it wasn’t a hard one.

“Beth,” came Hannah’s voice from below.

Beth craned her head to look down at Hannah, dangling who knows how high in the harsh winds. “What? What is it?”

Hannah said nothing at first. She looked strangely calm. Resigned. Then she smiled.

“I love you, little sister. Please forgive me for this.”

Beth blinked. “What?”

Hannah reached upwards with her other hand, prying Beth’s fingers loose from her arm. A horrified Beth could only watch as her sister slipped from her grasp.

“Hannah! No!”

Hannah fell into a white void, plummeting out of view without a sound. Beth screamed loud enough for them both. Hannah was gone just like that, and Beth was in tears.

“Hannah! Hannah!"

Beth suddenly felt a hand reach down and grab her own, pulling the sobbing sister upwards. About half of Beth wanted him to just let her fall too. The stranger hoisted her to safety. As soon as she was on safe ground, she threw herself back against him. Back towards her sister. She cried and struggled in his grasp.

“Hannah! Hannah! Let me go! That’s my sister!”

The stranger pushed Beth away from the cliff and onto the ground. “Your sister’s gone, girl! You can either join her, or leave with me.”

Beth frowned, shaking in the cold snow. “I, I, can I trust you?”

“You don’t have a choice. Those things are on their way. They’re out in force tonight.”

“What, wolves?”

“No, worse. Come on.”

The man took Beth by the arm, pulling her along. Beth realized they were headed in the wrong direction.

“Wait, the lodge is the other way!”

“Your lodge isn’t safe. They’re swarming all over it. Follow me.”

Beth did as she was told, brushing the tears from her eyes as this man she didn’t know guided her further into the mountain wilderness. Behind her, she heard strange howls and shrieks echoing out. Nothing that sounded human. Or natural.

She almost didn’t care if she lived or died. Hannah was gone. Her sister. Gone. All over a stupid prank.

All Beth could do was hold out hope Hannah somehow survived the fall, and someone would come find her before it was too late. Hope for a miracle.

The impossible.

“My sister is dead,” Beth said in dismay, tears welling up again. “She’s dead!”

“Keep your damn voice down,” he hushed her. “Stay with me and you might just make it out of this alive.”

Beth squashed her cries, pressing on. She had to keep going. If not for herself, then for Hannah.

#until dawn #beth washington #sam giddings #josh washington #emily davis #romance #horror #fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3fic #fanfiction #survivor guilt #survivor #gay women

[heliads]

No Charity

Based on this request: "reader is attacked by Oscar and Morris and the Newsies find her and take her back to the Lodging House where they look after her until she gets better and then she starts working as a newsie. Oh and a Albert x Reader please!"

masterlist

You aren’t entirely sure how you know it, but you swear someone is following you.

Perhaps it’s the strange feeling scraping at the back of your neck, the odd sensation that someone is watching you even when you duck in and out in the crowd. Or, it could be the shadow that persistently dogs your heels; it isn’t yours, but it could be, what from the way it never seems to leave your side.

Regardless, you’re not alone. You’ve spent enough time in this godless city, scratching and stealing to make a living, to know that when someone pays attention to you, it’s no good at all. The only thing you can think of to do is to shake your stalker before it’s too late, or before thoughts of what ‘too late’ could mean rise to your mind.

You take a few hurried turns, backtrack your steps a few times, but nothing works. As time passes and you swear your follower is getting closer, you start to panic. You’ve been pacing through a crowded market square for the past half hour or so, but all of a sudden the throngs of people feel less like shields and more like fences designed to hem you in.

You manage to find a way out of their stifling eyes, but you know from the second you flee the madding crowd that you’ve made a mistake. A hand latches onto your arm, pulling you into an alley before you can think to scream. It wouldn’t matter if you did, anyway- street rats don’t get saved. No one would listen to the cries of a malnourished, lonely kid, they’d just pull their expensive clothes closer about them and hope that you shut up quickly.

Your feet slow from where they’re being dragged behind you, and you realize that your kidnapper has stopped moving. You wrest your arm from his grasp, but it’s too late. The mouth of the alleyway is much too far to risk a sprint for safety, and besides, someone’s blocking the way out just in case.

You realize now that you haven’t been followed by one boy, but two. You’ve seen these gangly thugs around the Manhattan streets before, and know them by name: Oscar and Morris Delancey. They’d beat up strikers as soon as street kids such as yourself if it gave them an extra dime. Right now, they’re eyeing you like you’re their ticket to an evening meal.

You keep your voice level. They’ve never troubled you before, other than a few leering glances directed where you’d rather not mention, so you harbor the admittedly foolhardy hope that they’ve got the wrong person.

“What do you want?” You ask, and they laugh. Their voices sound like a sharp grating of rocks, the crush of cobblestone beneath a horse’s hoof.

“Word on the street has it that you were stealing pennies out of a banker’s pocket. He’s funding us to stop you before you try it again.” 

Your brow furrows. This isn’t entirely wrong, but the banker deserved it. He wouldn’t miss a dollar or two from his pocket, not when it could buy you weeks of food.

“Alright, then. I’ll leave him alone. Now let me go.”

Morris scoffs. “You think we’re idiots?”

He continues on quickly before you can say yes. “The only way scum like you learn your place is when you’re in enough pain to remember who you are.”

He and Oscar brandish their fists at you, and you realize that you won’t be getting out of this without a few bruises.

Despite the worsening odds, you still feel your lips curl. “And how do scum like you two learn your place? By getting your asses kicked time and time again?”

Oscar glares at you, lunging forward. You manage to duck his first punch, but you can’t fight two boys, not forever. Your fighting style up until this point has consisted of two steps: one, don’t get caught, and two, run whenever possible.

Seeing as it’s too late to avoid this conflict, you opt for the second approach, and make a quick dive for the alley exit. Morris sees your eyes dart towards the main road and grabs your arm again, so hard he’s sure to leave a bruise.

“If you stay still, this won’t hurt much.” He says through a mouth full of bared teeth.

You manage to kick him hard in the shin, and he grimaces in pain, although it only serves to make his next punch even harder.

A voice from behind him, though, makes both boys still.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Oscar and Morris turn in unison to see a crowd of three or four boys spilling into the alley, rolling up their sleeves in preparation for a fight. You recognize them from their matching caps, as well as the bags of newspapers tossed in a corner. These are the Manhattan newsies, although you have no idea what they’re doing here.

Morris doesn’t seem to like it, though. “Get lost, Jack. This isn’t your fight.”

The lead boy, who must be Jack, just laughs. “What, you pickin’ on a girl in our streets isn’t my fight? It isn’t yours either.”

Oscar and Morris exchange glances, then Morris tosses your arm to the ground. “Fine, have it your way. I wouldn’t want to dirty my fists by tossing blows at you anyway.”

The Delanceys scamper off into the darkness, leaving the newsies to tentatively approach you. Jack offers you a hand, and after a moment, you take it and let him help you up.

Jack grins, glad you’ve decided to trust him. “I’se Jack, by the way. These fine fellows are Race, Jojo, and Specs. Sorry about that, we thought we had an eye on Oscar and Morris but they got away before we could track ‘em down.”

The boy Jack referred to as Specs steps forward. “Those cuts don’t look great. Say, you want to come back to our lodging house to get those looked at?”

Jack nods. “That’s a good idea, actually. What do you say?”

You consider this, then shrug. It’s not like you have anywhere else to be. “Sounds good to me.”

You don’t know what you expected from the newsies, especially considering the fact that you’ve never really had reason to speak to them before, but they’re surprisingly nice. A taller, cleaner boy named Davey helps you bandage your cuts, and asks you questions while he’s at it.

It’s all nice, truly. Still, the longer you stay, the more antsy you feel. You’re a self taught student in the school of watching your own back, and the longer you stay in the newsies’ place, the more it eats away at you. There are too many eyes on you, too many voices asking you things you don’t want to answer.

Eventually, you can’t take it anymore and slip away again. You know better than to leave a warm house when it’s been offered to you, but you don’t want to be the center of attention anymore. You find an empty fire escape two stories up and climb it gratefully. For a moment or two, it’s just you and the setting sun. Dusk brings with it a cold wind, which blows against your bandages.

It also brings a boy, stepping out onto your fire escape. You regard him with a raised brow, but say nothing. The boy has his newsie cap jammed backwards on his head over short cropped red hair. He stares at you for a moment, as if expecting you to greet him, then shrugs.

“Name’s Albert. I’se been told to ask if you need anything.”

You keep staring out over the city. “I don’t.”

You’re being awfully cold considering the fact that these newsboys are helping you out of nothing but the goodness of their hearts, but you don’t like feeling as if you owe them. Around here, debts tend to stack up. You don’t want to be another one of the guilty.

Albert seems to get this, though. “That’s fine with me. Figure I’ll stay out a little longer anyway.”

You glance over at him at last. “What, you down on friends and want a new one?”

He cracks a smile. “Something like that. The boys said you were fighting back against the Delanceys, which is nothing to scoff at. Maybe I want to see what you’re like so I can pick up a thing or two.”

You frown. “You want someone to teach you how to throw a punch?”

The corners of Albert’s lips twitch up. “I want a new selling partner who won’t drag me down.”

He holds out a hand, as if offering it to shake. You just stare at it.

“I’m no charity case, you know. You shouldn’t do this just because you feel bad for someone who nearly got beat up in an alley.”

Albert shrugs. “I’d say you actually got beat up in an alley, no nearly about it, but it’s not that. You seem cool enough, that’s all I need.”

You regard him suspiciously, but if Albert’s playing you for a fool, he gives no sign of it. At last, you sign away the last of your misgivings and shake his hand.

“Alright then, partner. When do we start?”

The next day, as it turns out, is your first day as a newsie. You’re half expecting Albert to conveniently forget his deal, but that next morning, he still shows up by your newly assigned bunk and waits for you to go. He shows you all the best selling places, how to shout a boring headline and twist it into something worthwhile.

The two of you get into contests as the day goes by, competing to see who can turn the worst scrap of news into a bestselling sensation. You’ve managed to hold out your streak for the past two days running, which baffles Albert. He keeps saying something about how he really should be winning because he’s been hawking papes for far longer than you, but your empty paper bags don’t lie.

You like it, you have to admit. You like being a newsie, you like hanging out with Albert. He’s frighteningly like you, as Crutchie described it one time. The two of you are just as quick to a temper, and the newsies come to respect your curled fists just as much as Albert’s. 

The two of you talk, too, for long hours when no one’s out on the streets or late nights before you go to bed. He’s more than you thought, which must mean that you’re the same for him.

You can hardly remember a time before being a newsie, as if your entire life started anew the day you put on your cap for the first moment. Maybe being out here with the rest of your boys makes you feel like you’re living, really living, more than the mere survival you had to occupy your days before.

And, leaning against Albert’s shoulder one night late into the hours, when the moon’s been up for a long time but you’ve been up for longer, you realize that he feels the same way. You know it by how his hand carefully moves up to cradle yours, the soft look in his eyes whenever he turns your way. 

He asks you the question about a week later, if you’d ever consider being his. You answer back that you always have been. It might be the closest you’ve ever come to the truth. In the days to follow, you face rainy afternoons and dreaded heat waves, bone chilling frosts and grizzly thunderstorms. Anything and everything that darkens a newsie’s doorstep is there for the taking.

Throughout all of it, though, you have Albert. Albert, who gives you his jacket so you can stay warm, who makes sure the two of you sell papers under the protection of a store’s sun awning. He is a blessing, your boy, and you delight in him every minute of the day. As it turns out, he feels the exact same way about you.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#albert dasilva #albert dasilva imagines #albert dasilva x reader #albert dasilva oneshot #newsies #newsies imagines #newsies x reader #newsies oneshot #newsies live #newsies live imagines #newsies live x reader #newsies live oneshot #newsies albert #newsies albert imagines #newsies albert x reader #newsies albert oneshot

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 9: Give ‘em Hell Kid

summary: after taking care of the stragglers, you make way to find Ellie amidst of all the chaos that follows her and you come face to face with a blast from the past

word count: 2,754 im gonna make up for all these short chapters i swear!!

content warnings: blood mention (i mean c'mon y'all know exactly what this fic is), animal death, somebody gets murdered a bit violently

notes: just wanna say a little thank you for all the recent influx of subs/bookmarks/comments/kudos/follows on here and on ao3, y'all warm my heart. also, the next few chapters will deviate from the tlou timeline to make way for some angst :^))))

read on ao3 here / masterlist

Your lungs were burning with each breath. Huffs escaped you. Aches filtered through your body. Running, chasing, fighting. Ellie was in deep shit and you prayed she was alright. Following after her path, you tracked your girl.

It didn’t take much to figure out which way Ellie went, between the very obvious messy shoe prints of the men chasing after her and the hoof-marks. It made finding her all that much easier. You trekked through the slosh of the muddied snow until you came across a striking stain of red. Your steps faltered and you took the sight in, the sight of blood in between all the white and brown that overlooked a small cliff. Stopping dead in your tracks, your breath hitched as you peered over.

A gasp in horror escaped you when you saw the lifeless body of dear Callus. Quickly jumping, you dropped from the ledge he was under and landed on your knees with a harsh ‘oomph’. The pain tingled up to your spine.

Scrambling up to check on Callus, looking for any sign Ellie was hurt only to find none. You brushed the dark hair on the horse, “I’m sorry Callus.” Mentally sending an apology to Cherry too. She was going to be sad when she hears but if anything, she’d take the apology in exacting revenge on his murderers.

Kneeling on the cold ground, you sent a silent wish to the stars, wishing that Callus will be taken care off wherever he is, noting how he was such a good horse, how he will be greatly missed but was certainly loved. He may have been just a horse, but even then, horses were smart and sentient. He knew.

Just as you finished your well-wishes, the horror quickly engulfed your mind. The worry grew for just a moment as you continued on the path, leaving the dear horse behind until you stumbled upon dead body after dead body, all leading in a patch down to a lake then to a little cabin, long since forgotten shops, and up the stairs to some sort of lakeside hotel, anger finally settling in your bones.

You found yourself following a trail of blood, gore, and footsteps, pride warming in your chest. That’s my girl, you silently praised. You drew a knife and a gun, as you approached what looked to be some lakeside market, too many hidey holes to walk through here confidently. Nevertheless, you marched on.

The path led you to an abandoned lodge overlooking the lake but no sign of Ellie, just more dead bodies of those bastards.

It would have been a beautiful sight long ago, in the time before. Now it was an empty and hollow shell of its former self, littered with gore.

Even shuffling as quickly as you could through the main hall of the resort yielded nothing to finding your dear young companion, not as the sun was really setting low. Had that much time passed, you thought worriedly.

You kicked an overturned table and groaned loudly, not giving a shit if somebody heard you. Letting yourself be mad for just a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling. At this point, you weren’t sure if you’d want to move stealthy, try and make as much noise as possible just to take some of the heat off your girl.

Frustrated still, you left the resort and circled outside to locate another set of footsteps, likely of them chasing after her. It looked almost as if there was a small fucking army chasing her but still, you didn’t spot anybody. Much to your chagrin.

Taking off once more, you cursed as the visibility lowered. The snow was progressively picking up all around you causing some of the footsteps to slowly disappear.

It was swirling around in a thick blanket in the air, covering the footsteps you had been following. It felt like you were running against the clock and you took off running, focused on the remaining trail until you heard it.

Loud and metallic. A bell. Faint but there. A city center with a tolling bell possibly?

You didn't think twice about changing your direction and moving faster through the storm.

Motivated even more so, you continued on this path, following the chime until you came into view of a cheap haphazardly thrown together defense wall. Ducking behind a nearby structure, you looked on, assessing it as best you could with the little visibility you had.

Faintly, you could make out concrete walls with some barbaric barbed wire thrown lazily against it, many many weaknesses here and there. Most importantly, you noticed there was nobody manning the walls.

You ran and ducked every so often, listening for voices but finding none. Instead, you followed the bloodied trail Ellie left behind her. It was almost like a taunt to the others in this community, or maybe even a gumdrop-like trail for you, screaming ‘come find me’. Whatever it was, only a mark of design by the tough kid wanting nothing but to simply stay alive.

Pocketing your weapons, you took a few steps back then ran.

It was almost too easy to just jump the fence but you did, after hesitating ever so slightly. Your breaths were now heavy huffs, your lungs were cursing you to stop but you refused to, not when Ellie was in danger.

Then, arming yourself with your knives you tried to make your way through the town as stealthy as possible. Only taking out whoever was in your path but aiming not to make a spectacle before you could locate Ellie within this town.

Every time you took down one of those gruesome bastards, you didn’t dare to stop and search them. Your only goal was to find Ellie. You could hear the men talking about her and how she got away, sparking pride within you once more as you took off, following the chaos she left in her wake. Noting how some of the bodies were still warm, their leaked blood still sticky.

Turning the corner of a mechanics garage, a loud thunderous snap echoed through the area. 

Startled, you pulled back into a crouch and watched as a large fire erupted in the distance. That spark of hope igniting as bright as the fire, signaling Ellie fighting back like hell. 

“Shit,” you sighed trying to catch your breath. You rose to your feet and took off faster now, headed towards the explosion.

Off through the thick sheet of snow, you could faintly make out a large sign above a dinner, displaying the name Todd’s across it. You could hear somebody yelling from inside and aimed for it, the fire barely catching your attention.

Time was running against you, as it always did. The fire grew hotter, the building more dangerous. These were the least of your worries.

You were beyond frustrated as you circled the building, aside from the very obvious and intentional door being lit on fire that was growing at a rapid pace, there were no other entrances you could see aside from a dozen unbroken windows. 

It took a couple tries to find an entrance that was viable, feeling like you were running out of time as the male voice from inside grew louder, as you could hear bullets fly just as the man was yelling. Thankfully you did find a cracked window.

Judging by the amount of noise already happening inside and assessing the risk, you figured breaking it wouldn’t alert anybody so you did just that and crawled through, doing your best not to scrape your knees.

Gaining your footing, you looked around and saw you were in some sort of kitchen for the diner. There were large stainless steel surfaces, looking moderately clean. That’s not what got your attention, but the screaming match happening in the dining area.

It took you a minute but you got close to the ground, snapping to the corner as to not give away your position, not as you saw a large man with a beard towering over a small figure- Ellie.

Your brows furrowed in anger as you ran, planning on tackling this man but he was knocked over to the side as Ellie wacked at him endlessly with a machete, hacking him to death. Overkill.

One, two, three. Each swing she grew more and more violent,

Yelling for her to stop, she continued her attack, until you grabbed her against her back, holding her close to stop her. She tried to fight against you, almost throwing you to the ground. “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” Petting her hair, trying to calm her down, she recognized your voice and she slumped in your arms.

You were exhausted, the adrenaline slowly leaving your blood gave way to the roaring pain in your lungs and muscles. Surely you’d be sore for the coming days. Even so, the pain would have been nothing next to losing either Joel or Ellie.

The two of you stayed like that, holed up in a grimey embrace for a few moments. You repeatedly ran your fingers through her tangled up brown hair as she hiccupped the last of her sobs into your coat. The only sounds permeating the moment were of Ellie and the fire.

Fuck. The fire.

Just as you realized the predicament the two of you were in, the blackened smoke scratched and irritated your eyes, throat, and lungs. It was suffocating you and doing worse to Ellie,

If it weren’t for the raging blaze that was spreading, you would have left much sooner. “Sweetheart, I think it’s time to go.”

Ellie didn’t respond and you were about to repeat yourself until you heard heavy footfalls behind you. Moving the distraught and distracted teen slightly, you drew one of your guns and aimed, about to shoot but were stopped when you took notice of just who was standing there, palms up in defense.

Joel.

Joel was alive, right there.

Ellie recognized him before you could even register what was happening. She jumped out of your arms into his, babbling about David and crying once more. He calmed her, mumbling “Oh, baby girl… It’s okay, it’s okay.”

You watched from the floor as he tried to wipe the blood from her tear stained cheeks, barely keeping your own shit together.

“C’mon,” he said, not looking at you, “let’s get outta here.”

You rose from your haunches, swaying just a little at the inner emotional whirlwind you were facing mixed on top of the physical toll you were feeling. You watched as Joel put his arm around Ellie, walking her out the way he came in. Both of them were limping slightly. Following the two of them, you kicked the dead man just once as Joel led you both out of the burning building to your horse, Whiskey.

He turned around to say something but cut himself off, taking in the sight of you. “Shit, Are you okay?”

You followed his gaze to where your clothes were coated in a disastrous mixture of blood, dirt, and stars know what else. “It’s not mine.”

He looked like he wanted to look you over but he focused on Ellie instead, giving her a helping hand onto the horse. Joel gestured for you to get on behind her but you shook him off, “No. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

“If you don’t get on the goddamned-,” he began to argue but you shut him down.

“I’m not going to fuckin’ argue with you right now.” You checked over your horse, noticing how Joel didn’t bring anything then approached Ellie, “Hey, sweetheart. Think you can handle leading Whiskey and Joel back to the house?”

She wiped away her tears and nodded, “I think so.”

“Good. I’ll see you there soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to counter you but you stood up to him, on your toes. You had grabbed his jacket and pulled him close, getting in his face. “You take our girl back to the fuckin’ house and you make sure neither you nor her go off the rails or so help me, I will finish what that rebar started and end you. Got it?”

You were tired, you were angry, you were relieved. But most of all, you were pissed the fuck off. Not necessarily at him but at, well, at everything. Being this troupe’s sole caretaker for the past few weeks was taking its toll.

Just as you got into his face, he got into yours. At only a hair's breadth away he threatened you all the same, “You do not get to be angry with me, you do not get to push me around, got it?”

His brown eyes bore into yours, you could see he was more exhausted than anything but you were not going to let him be the judge of what happens next. “Fuck you, Joel Miller. We saved your life, hell, I saved your life. You owe me. Now you’re going to get on that fucking horse with Ellie and you are going to the safe house and we are leaving this goddamned shithole. Together. In one piece.”

“Please, Joel, let’s get out of here,” Ellie’s weak voice interrupted. 

The near-dyin’ old bastard opened his mouth to counter you again but decided against it. Most likely for Ellie’s sake.

Joel leans close to you and whispers a threat in your ear, “If you’re not back by nightfall, we’ll leave without you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you snap.

He takes a half step back, his tired brown eyes meeting yours. For a flash you think he wants to apologize but he doesn’t, his pride wouldn’t let him anyways. This was the game the two of you have played all these months. This push-and-pull bullshit. It was tiresome in situations like these, the dire need of survival, but during those blissful moments of reprieve, it brought you joy.

Joel’s heavy footfalls penetrated the tense air even as he saddled up in front of Ellie. He calls your name and in his roundabout way, bargains with you. “Come back alive.”

Before you could even answer or reply, he’s off with a huff. Ellie strapped closely behind him.

Watching them go, you ducked and retraced your steps in the heavy and blinding snow. The storm hadn’t let up and likely wouldn’t any time soon. It worked well into your favor for now.

The journey back wasn’t as arduous or as dramatic as the way forward but you made it back to the safe house without incident. The whole time your mind juggled between the mixed emotions of Joel. Gratitude he was alive, joy that he was walking and talking, anger that he was walking and talking and not resting.

There was just a lot happening all at once. It’s why you wanted to be alone for the time being. Too many emotions swirled in you, too many thoughts, too much of everything. The bitter cold nipping at your fingertips helped, kept you grounded.

At least until you heard the low grumbling of Joel coaxing Ellie back to the land of the living, much as you both did the same to him these past few weeks. His voice trailed up the basement and didn’t stop as your steps echoed through the stairwell. 

When you stopped at the final landing did you look up. He was holding her close as she cried, she still hadn’t stopped. His hands, bruised and bloodied from stars know what, coaxed themselves through her messy hair. The sight of them both covered in other people’s blood hurt you in ways that no wound could ever compare to.

He was whispering nothings to her, praises for her fighting, echoing words of ‘shh, it’s okay’, repeatedly in a low soft voice. You came close to the two of them sitting on the lone mattress, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back.”

Joel looked up at you again, looking over you. Taking in the sight of you now. He gave you a tense nod as Ellie reached around for your hand and squeezed it. Once she let you go you brushed her hair from her face and slowly stood.

“I’m going to pack up everything and we’re going to leave here, put this shit behind us.”

The two of them said nothing but Joel caught your eye and silently, you both came to an agreement. Whatever bullshit you two had, when it came to Ellie, she came first.

Isn’t that what family is for?

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel (the last of us) #joel the last of us #joel miller / reader #joel tlou x reader insert #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel tlou x you #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal as joel in the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #posted on ao3 #asher's writing #danger days fic

[vanillann]

five star conversation (r.p)

a/n: i’m going to cry, i can’t believe this is the last part of my favorite mini series:(

word count:

5 star conversation masterlist

place four: a 1 star gig

Flynn was always on top of things, she always was, but when she wasn’t you didn’t want to be lodged on a tour bus with her. She had already tried to throw her phone out the window, thank God Alex was looking for his hat and he caught it.

“They canceled our reservation! That must be illegal!”

I curled closer to Julie on her bed, letting my head rest on her shoulder every time Flynn let out a line of words. Reggie had a small panic attack with the yelling and Flynn tried to apologize but he didn’t blame, he was just as mad. So now the boy walked around the gas station we had stopped at and Julie and I let Flynn rant to us, she deserved it.

“Maybe another venue will host us,” Julie spoke up when Flynn didn’t yell again, her feet had finally stopped leaving marks in the carpet from pacing.

“I’ve already called two and they said their full, which had to be a lie, and plus how do we get the word out to the fans!” Flynn reached down and grabbed my knee, looking at me with sad eyes.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, waving it in the air while I sat up.

“I can always do a live and explain everything, why don’t you get some air,” I rubbed her shoulder, hoping she would take my advice, She had always given Reggie and Alex a heart attack and maybe going to the little nature walk across the street would be good, she could throw some rocks at some trees.

“I’ll get some air, yeah okay.”

She hurried off the bus, most likely to throw or kick rocks around the parking lot as Flynn never liked nature trails, it was nice to dream. If she dented this bus, we’ll be in debt.

“I can’t believe the venue canceled, it was our last gig on tour too!” Julie stood, looking down as I laid on her bunk and played with my phone in between my fingers.

I didn’t have to heart to tell the fans that we didn’t have a venue, that we wouldn’t have a final gig that was supposed to help release the new album coming out in five months.

It might have seemed small, we were blessed we even had this opportunity but it doesn’t change the fact that the one we're most excited for now was not happening.

“I’m going to find the boys, you coming?”

I closed my eyes, the boys. Everything they worked for was now becoming a nightmare, their idea of the perfect tour was ruined with falling through plans and missed opportunities.

“No, I need to go live and get the word out anyways,” I brushed off Julie, I didn’t have the heart to look any of them in the eye and tell them. To break their heart like everyone else in their life has, I just couldn’t do it. Julie waved behind her, I waited until the bus door shut before I let my head rollback.

I looked up at the bunk above me, Flynn’s, and let my mind wander over the past few months. They were perfect. Watching the fan scream their name for hours and they showed them in their element. The pictures that have been taken, many saved in my phone of the people I would always turn to. The edits that have been made have made me laugh harder than I imagined. Before this tour, nobody knew me, not that I ever cared, but I was behind the scenes. Now, the fans want me on the stage even if I don’t contribute to the music.

The music, the music had been show-stopping. Luke has been through four journals the past few months, writing back fast food drive in’s and doing stupid things with friends, that how the new album was coming out so fast. They were all so excited, Reggie was so excited to have one of his own songs featured as a single.

Reggie.

I let my hand run over my face, feeling the embarrassment from the incident at the fair. Watching his face move closer to mine, like a slow-motion picture and then ripped away when it was ripped in half. I took a minute and tried turning it into a moment, but it was never our moment. All the giggles and inside jokes hurt my chest and I thought back to the more recent time of the tour.

The motel, the way the light shines across his face and we wondered would the world cave in around. The feeling of his hand gripping my shirt because he always felt he had to be touching someone, he said it reminds him not to act so dead.

The diner when he gave me sweet little comments and took my fork from my lips. When we laughed about food poisoning and wondered would we ever be the same people after he played with my finger from across the table.

The fair where I gave him his first horse, then named it after an artist I introduced to him too. The way the wind passed his hair like he was made to run away from the world that had disappointed him more than once.

Every one-star establishment that made me believe could kiss my butt because now we had nothing. I didn’t need any more one-star buildings and places in my life. They’re just cheap and used for people who have no other options.

I sat up quickly, so quickly my head hit Flynn bunk.

No other options and cheap, exactly what someone in our situation could use right now. I let my phone spin between my fingers, unlocking it quickly before finding my search bar. We sat in the center of California, there had to be a one-star building somewhere near, one that we could turn into a dive bar or something. I smiled when a cheap bar popped up first, the area large enough to hold people and a small stage the band could work with.

Larry’s Bar was suddenly open for business. I dialed the number quickly, praying for the first time in a week something would go my way.

“L-larry’s Bar,” the woman sounded out of breath but I couldn’t care.

“Can we rent out your bar for a band?”

“Huh?”

“We need a venue for a band performance,” I realized why Flynn handled this and not me, this was out of my comfort zone.

“Are you sure you have-”

“Incredibly sure, yes or no?”

The line went silent, for a minute I thought she hung up on me and I considered crying with Reggie’s stuffed horse for a minute.

“The bar’s yours,” the lady's voice sounds light suddenly like we finally both got some good news. She definitely made my week without knowing.

“We’ll be there in forty-five minutes,” I didn’t wait for a response, rushing out of the tour bus to find someone. When I spotted everyone leaning against an ice machine outside the gas station with sad faces, my legs couldn’t stop me from rushing. I was happy Fylnn already kicked all the rock because otherwise, I would have felt.

“Guys!”

“Hey,” Alex's voice was sad and sincere, about to place a hand on my shoulder but I was bouncing on my toes.

“Whip off your sad faces, I got us a gig!”

*

“Just got off live, the fans are going to spread the information,” I yelled throughout the bar, and Luke and Jessie, the lady from the phone, moved the last few tables around the bar to make more room. Reggie and Alex did a quick soundcheck, we were currently renting amps and such from across the street since the owner's daughter was apparently a “Luke Girl”.

“Thank God, I would hope we don’t do all this work for nobody to show up” Alex called back as he did the classic comedy drum sound, giving a smile as he grabbed the extra drumstick from his back pocket.

I rolled my eyes, hopping off the stage to the small table at the door for Flynn and me to sit at for tickets and shirts, CD including, and a special code for the single Reggie was presenting tonight.

Luke and he had been fighting over it for ten minutes because Reggie changed the one he wanted to release last minute, it must have been good if Luke was letting him get away with it.

“I can’t believe you pulled this off,” Flynn sat in her seat with her arms crossed, people would be arriving as soon as possible and we were prepared for anything.

“What can I say,” I smiled brightly, taking the seat beside her.

“What made you think of this?”

I wanted to say, Reggie, that he almost always somehow inspired my best ideas but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Almost everyone knew of the almost kiss and how awkward things have been between us, so awkward I couldn’t say his name.

“Just about what happened at the motel, how we had to make it work.”

It wasn't a lie, that was for sure.

“Well, you saved the tour,” Flynn leaned over and squeezed my shoulders, her bucket hat titled as it smashed against my face. I hugged her back, smiling into her shoulder, I saved the tour.

*

The crowd screamed as the band finished off “Bright”, sweat dripping down them as they gave wide gestures.

“Thank you! Now it’s surprise time!” Julie passed the microphone to Luke, who looked so excited for his next set of words.

“The rumors about the new album are true,” he let the mic drop until the screams died down, “and we are here to show one of the singles for the said album that will drop on March 3rd at midnight!”

The crowd went crazy again and I laughed against Flynn, we both decided to stay in our chairs for the performance as we had an amazing view and we didn’t want to push through everyone. I was scared that everyone would see the one-star and turn the other way but every ticket that was bought came.

Reggie smiled as he took the stage, his bass switched for an acoustic, which confused me but I didn’t think much about it, I knew he liked to mess with it sometimes.

“Hi everybody!”

Reggie gave a peace sign to the crowd, the few girls who wore Reggie’s face on their shirt screamed at the top of their lungs.

“This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago on tour called “Five Star conversation.”

I looked over my shoulder at Flynn, her eyes wide as she watched Reggie get situated on his stool in front of the mic.

“What song is this?”

“Uhm, this one?”

All she did was point and I decided to go back and watch him play. I could always ask later, I’d have to make merch with it anyways.

“Dingy bathrooms and motel floors, I’d never wanted you more than right now,” Reggie's voice came out rough as his voice played with the melody just right. His finger-picked at the string and I was shocked by the slow melody. This definitely wasn’t a song I’d heard.

“The city lights across your face, I swear you fell from grace. The world around me seemed to disappear the second you spoke,” that when it happened, the moment he turned his head. He looked in my eye, the words rooting themselves in my chest, tattooed across my heart.

“Our five-star conversations were softer than the pillows beneath me, I wish you could have really seen me.”

I felt myself chew on my bottom lip, feeling my eyes turn to me as his attention never left my face. He was watching me, the same way he had in every other one-star establishment, but this felt different.

“Oh, you wouldn’t know the five-star conversation I had with your soul.” The medley rang out, Julie’s soft humming joined in behind and I wondered how anyone could focus.

How could anyone think straight when someone was looking so adoring under the flashing light of a cheap bar that smelt like feet?

How could I pay attention while he looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky when he hung the moon?

“Crappy food and screaming doors, I wonder if you knew of your own grace!” His word rang back in my eye, like a bug that wouldn’t quite go away, not that I would ever want this to stop.

But it had to stop because I was suddenly the center of attention and I couldn’t handle it. I couldn't know the world more than I did. But I was rooted in place watching the boy I had fallen so hard for a look at me with his puppy eyes and wonder where we would stand after this.

“Don’t let me lose our five-star conversation in a one-star world after all,” he strummed the last bit of the song, I barely processed half the word before I let my legs go. I was walking somewhere, wherever my feet would allow me to go. I was outside, the brick wall of the bar brought me back to reality.

The same reality where I didn’t think boys wrote songs that sweet and they didn’t look at you like that. They didn’t look at you like you spun gold strings and gave them pretty smiles, but he did.

He always did, he always looked at me like I belonged next to him saving tours and making horrible plans. He looked at me like I could be his muse for the rest of his life, of death is more appropriate. He looked at me as if I was more than his because I wasn’t his, I was myself and that’s all he wanted.

He was in love with me, the same person from the motel, the same person for the diner, the same person from the fair.

I was the five-star person in the world star world, I was the extra star he was always looking for.

“(Y/N)!”

As soon as I watched his body slide out the door of the bar, I walked to him. I didn’t realize how far I walked until he started rambling.

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot but I couldn’t stop-”

My hand gripped the thin jacket material, not thinking twice and my lips smashed against his with force. He fell back slightly, his hand grabbing my wrist for a second before he was running them over my shoulder and down to my elbows. He pulled me closer if that was possible, and I let my hand touch over his heart.

The heart that wanted me, Reggie wanted me. There were girls who would wear his face on a shirt and he wanted the person that made those shirts.

I was his five stars, even if I loved him in every one-star and three-star establishment.

I felt myself pull away, our forehead resting on one another and I took a shaky breath.

“I’d give that kiss two stars.”

He smiled down at me, raising his eyebrows and letting his tongue run over the side of his cheek with a smirk.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll make it five stars.”

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[cno-inbminor]

ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

--

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

-

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

-

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

-

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

-

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

-

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

-

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri’s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.  

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

-

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.  

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

-

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

-

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.  

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

#ushijima x reader #semi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios #ushijima scenarios #semi scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #ushijima wakatoshi #semi eita #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu smut #hq smut #ushijima x you #semi x you #iwaizumi x you #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi x you #hajime x reader #hajime x you #eita x reader #eita x you

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 13

Pairing: Werewolf! Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au WC: 4.1k+ Warning: Language, Violence, Gun usage, Descriptions of burn wounds, mild gore  AU Lore: Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @skjdln @darkacrimson​ @woozisnoots​ @hwangjangmi​ @rjsmochii​ @fluffyhyeju​ @svtjuniverse​ @karmacqre​ @dwcljh​ @taeyeon-got-shmoney​ @2dmoonenback​ @moonchild9499​ 

Unable to tag: @Unbaeknownst @peachescherryheart

A/N: So this chapter is probs the longest one yet! I was trying to wrap things up in this one but it ended up a bit too long so there is probably maybe one or two chapters more, plus an epilogue! This chapter is ROUGH, please be warned before reading! If you want to skip the rough bit the first “***” signals the end of the fight!

I also realized while writing this chapter that...I haven’t written Chan in this story yet ^^;; he’s been mentioned because he is a part of the Coven’s inner circle but he...hasn’t show up. oops

Chapter List: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

It felt like you had been running forever before your eyes caught a glimpse of Jacob trailing behind the other members of his group, who you could only assume were chasing the stray that had taken Minah. Watching them slip into a small Alleyway you reached out to grab Vernon’s arm, effectively stopping him from following them. 

He looked back and fixed you with a confused expression, but you lifted a finger to your lips to gesture him to stay silent. You then turned your attention elsewhere, and found another small alley that seemed to be running parallel to the one that your allies had run down, which was exactly what you were hoping for. Gesturing with a small tilt of your head, you urged him to follow you.

It was a bad idea to try and get this guy all from one angle, especially if you were right in your theory that he wasn’t working completely alone. 

As you crept through the side alley, you hoped that somehow Minghao knew what you were planning and would attempt to stall. You had no doubt that he had been the first on the scene so you were only hoping that he wouldn’t start anything until you were in a good position to try and surround the stray. It was doubtful, considering you didn’t know how the stray would react to being cornered like this, but you held onto the small shred of hope that Minghao could keep the situation under control.

Exiting the alley onto the main road, you led Vernon to the right, and took a glance down the alley before entering. 

From what you could see, the Stray had his back to you with Minah in his arms, while Minghao, Gahyeon, Kevin, Jacob, and Wonwoo stood a few feet away from him. The stray had buried his face into Minah’s neck and you felt yourself almost run towards him despite your better judgement. 

Taking a deep, yet unnecessary, breath before gesturing for Vernon to hold his position. You quietly crept towards the male and his hostage, while doing your best to remember all the lessons from Mingaho and hoping that you were completely silent.

“Is this little human worth all the fuss? Surely Soonyoung has better things to do than deal with, little old me?” 

That voice. You knew that voice, thought you hadn’t heard it since...well since you had been turned. There was no other person who it could be, not who also knew Soonyoung. If this was who you were thinking, then you needed to get Minah away from him now.

As soon as you were in range, you threw your arms out and harshly pulled his head backwards and away from Minah. The action not only retched him towards you, but caused him to lose his grip on Minah because of the surprise of the attack. You jumped to the side, away from the male and watched as Wonwoo appeared almost instantly and just barely missed hitting him harshly in the face only for the male to be tackled by Gahyeon. You let those two handle him for a moment before rushing to Minah who had been caught by Minghao. 

The girl was sobbing and trembling as Minghao tried to help her to her feet. Before you could ask if she was alright, a loud gunshot rang out through the alley followed by the familiar growl of Gahyeon. 

“Keep her safe!” You ordered Minghao before turning your attention back to the action behind you. You immediately noticed that you were, in fact, right about his numbers, but what surprised you was that...not all of them were Vampires. You could see Vernon, who was the furthest from you, currently involved in a tussle with a Dark fae, along with a few wolves, vampires, and even a single human was in their ranks. You were definitely outnumbered but only by a little bit, and you would only need to hold out until the other teams arrived. You only hoped that they got your message and heard the fighting. 

Taking the fight back to the source you called out his name. 

“Taemin!”

As his eyes caught yours, you watched a smile creep onto his face. If it weren’t for the situation you could have mistaken that smile for one of actual kindness. He just...had that way about him.

“Well well, if it isn’t Soonyoung’s little one. I’m honestly surprised he let you out for all this.” Despite the fighting around you, Taemin seemed to almost casually saunter over to you. “I wonder how mad he would be if I killed you? Do you think he would…come for revenge?” 

Before you could blink, Taemin was on you. His leg swiftly aimed for your head, your reactions just fast enough to drop to the ground. You palms bracing yourself on the cold snow covered concrete, keeping you balanced as you swept your leg out trying to knock his feet out from under him. He simply jumped back and out of the way as you pushed yourself off of the ground to jump at him.

“Or do you think he would run away again? He’s awfully good at that, isn’t he?” Opting to ignore him, you pulled back your arm in an attempt to catch him with a right hook. As you did this you heard another gunshot, only this time the groan of pain caused you to hesitate for just a brief moment as you recognized the voice.

Wonwoo was hurt.

Seemingly seeing this hesitation, Taemin tilted his head to the side with curiosity filling his eyes. 

“Is that care for a wolf? From you, little one? Oh how time has change the both of us.” He let out a soft cruel chuckle, which was just enough of a distraction for you to sink your nails into his cheek, ripping the skin open before he shoved you away. This definitely seemed to anger him, but just as before...when he had gotten Soonyoung kicked out of his former Coven, he was completely in control of those emotions. 

The alley way was filled with a loud scream and the smell of burning flesh and you felt your whole body freeze, which gave Taemin the perfect opportunity to strike.

“It seems you haven’t learned anything since we last met, little one. Emotions only breed weakness.” As you were distracted, he took that opportunity to land a firm hit on your gut. You remembered this feeling, the dense pain that entered your abdomen as you felt like all of the air had left your lungs. Sure you didn’t need to breathe any longer but old habits die hard. As he pulled one hand away, the other reached out to grasp your head and soon your face was buried in a small layer of snow before meeting the unforgiving concrete below. 

“Oh Little one, do you remember what kills wolves the quickest?” The question was rhetorical but you knew what he was implying. Silver bullets, even if they didn’t hit a critical location, the silver would spread like a poison unless it was removed.

You didn’t have time to think about your next move, so you reached out and ripped his ankle out from under him. The action causing him to lose his grip on you as well as lose his balance.

Quickly taking the opportunity to push yourself up, you felt blood drip from your nose and fall to stain the snow below you. Your eyes darted around, taking an assessment of the field but you were also hoping that in that split second that you could confirm Wonwoo was okay. You didn’t immediately see him, but what you did get to witness was Soonyoung, appearing from practically nowhere and taking a running leap towards Taemin. A loud guttural growl that vaguely sounded like Taemin’s name escaping him, if you had thought he had been angry with you...well this was a different type of anger. 

Trusting Soonyoung to have the situation handled, you continued your search for Wonwoo only to find him collapsed against a wall with a Summer Fae above him ready to finish the job.

Before you had even registered what was going on, a new wave of emotions rushed through your system as you took a running start towards the woman your arms wrapped around the waist of the woman as you effectively tackled her to the ground. Landing with you on her back, you quickly grabbed the mess of red hair on her head and began slamming her face harshly into the snow covered concrete. You were so focused on causing this woman pain that you didn’t even notice the rest of the reinforcements arriving. All you could see was red, and all you wanted was for this woman to suffer. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there but...you knew it was far too long as you could hear the sickening crunch of bones. When you were certain she was dead you forced yourself off of her and rushed over to Wonwoo’s unconscious body, not caring about the rest of the fight going on around you. 

Quickly you began to examine the extent of his injuries, the top left side of his face swollen and blistering from the open flame that had been ignited on it, bits of his hairline had been burned away, there was a bullet lodged into his lower abdomen which had to be the silver one that Taemin had mentioned before. A small slew of curse words left your lips as you realized what you were going to have to do. You would rather feel the burn of the silver against your skin than sit here and just let him slowly die.

You were glad he was unconscious, as you dug your fingers inside of the wound flinching at the feeling as you tried to get a grip on the bullet so that you could pull it out. All that was pushing you forward was the need for him to be okay, you didn’t even care about the mission anymore, you just needed him to live through this. He had given you a feeling, a rush of emotions, you hadn’t felt in the longest time and you didn’t want that to end this soon. You wanted to try with him, and you didn’t care that he was a wolf, you just wanted him. 

With a small choked sob you ripped the bullet out, tossing it to the side without care. Quickly tearing off part of the bottom of your shirt you pressed firmly against the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The sounds of victory completely lost to your ears. The only thing you could hear was the slowing sound of his heart beat, it felt like you were underwater...suffocating as you watched his unmoving expressionless face. 

“No...no come on you dumb wolf, you can’t die in a fucking alley.” You muttered, words feeling frantic as you did your best to stop the bleeding but to no avail. You felt your teeth break the skin of your lower lip as your eyes focused in on the blood now staining your hands.

Soon enough members of his pack rushed over and tried to help you with him. Saying something about him needing medical attention, and the name Mingyu. You didn’t bother trying to stop them until you felt someone attempting to pull you away from him and that’s when everything went red. Your body tensed and all you couldn’t form a single coherent thought. You felt...painfully hungry and all this blood smelled wonderful. The last thing you heard before completely black out, was the familiar voice of Soonyoung shouting.

“Fuck, it’s a frenzy.  Gahyeon, restrain her!!”

***

Everything hurt.

That was the only thing Wonwoo could think of when he felt himself drifting back into consciousness. Out of instinct, he slowly tried to push himself into a sitting position only for the pain in his abdomen to spike which caused him to fall back into the lying position he had been in. 

Taking a moment to take in his surroundings he realized that...part of his face, didn’t feel like anything. He couldn’t open that eye either, his vision only coming from his right eye. That was...concerning. Before he could evaluate himself any further, he heard the sound of a door opening to his left...where he couldn’t see. Ignoring the pain, he turned his head and watched Mingyu walking into the room with a small bundle in his hands. 

Mingyu practically beamed when he realized that his friend was staring at him. Rushing over to the bedside, he quickly began looking over Wonwoo while spouting off rapid fire questions. 

“How are you feeling? Do you know how long you’ve been out? How long have you been awake? Does this hurt?” At the last question, he watched as Mingyu moved his finger towards the left side of his face but never actually felt anything more than a dull kind of numb feeling.

“No.” was all Wonwoo could bring himself to say, his throat felt like a desert. That coupled with Mingyu’s question had him a bit concerned. How long had he been out. A day, a week? Maybe more? He would just have to wait for Mingyu to return to that. 

Except he didn’t, he did grimace a bit at Wonwoo’s response and shook his head as he muttered a small ‘that’s not good’ to himself. 

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.” Mingyu began, as he began pulling fresh bandages from his little bundle. He carefully moved Wonwoo as he began taking off the older bandages around his abdomen. “The good news is that, whatever happened that night scared the Stray and his gang. Soonyoung said that we shouldn’t be seeing them again. So yay, mission successful.”

Wonwoo was trying his best to focus on the information he was receiving but it was hard when it felt like his gut was on actual fire. 

“The bad news is, you almost died. They had been using silver bullets and if your mate hadn’t pulled it out when she did, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Since it was silver though, it is taking longer to heal than it normally would. Also, I’m pretty sure the burn on your face is fourth degree since you couldn’t feel me poking you. Which is pretty bad. Also the worst part, we had to shave part of your head to make sure it didn’t get stuck to the burnt parts of your face.”

“That’s...the worst part?”

“Yeah man, it...does not look good I promise you.” If it were anyone other than Mingyu, Wonwoo would have probably been a bit annoyed at the moment. This was Mingyu though, and jokes were how he coped. If it weren’t this then it would be moping around, upset about the situation. So Wonwoo let the joke about his hair slide. 

Forcing his voice out once more, Wonwoo voiced another question.

“Is she okay?”

It was silent for a moment as Mingyu finished up rebandaging him, and putting the the dirty bandages into a bag he had brought with his bundle. Once finished he looked back up at Wonwoo and stared into Wonwoo’s one visible eye his gaze harded a bit before he looked away to grab more bandages that Wonwoo assumed would be going on his face.

“She...We haven’t seen her since that night and it’s been about 2 weeks now. When they tried to pull her away from you so that they could get you back home for medical attention, she um. Well the Vampires called it a frenzy. She completely lost control of herself, she ended up breaking Cheol’s arm and she got one of her own people pretty good as well. It took a lot for them to get her back to the Bar.” He began, gently replacing the bandage on Wonwoo’s face as he continued. “Jacob’s been getting updates from that Kevin guy. He said they had to keep her locked up and somehow still locked up just...not as locked up as before? I’m not sure how, but that’s just what he was saying. Apparently they’re also having to give her more fresh blood recently to keep her out of a frenzy too.”

Wonwoo felt his heart drop the more Mingyu spoke. There was no way he would be able to make it all the way to the bar in his condition, but he needed to make sure you were okay with his own two eyes. Since from the sounds of it, you had been struggling since the incident and he had just been mindlessly sleeping. 

“I’ve been keeping up with her situation cause I knew she’d be the first thing you asked about. Hyunjin has been visiting and we were talking about this. We actually think the mate pull is what’s causing her to go off the rails. Since she’s a Vampire, you being hurt is just hitting her in a different way than it would have hit a human mate, or at least that’s what we’re thinking.” 

It was definitely a logical assumption, when one mate is hurt it has been known to affect the mental state of the other. This could be that manifesting, but they had no sure fire way of knowing since there were no records of a werewolf ever mating with a Vampire before. With that in mind, it was settled. Wonwoo was going to take a page from your book and throw caution to the wind. Once he was alone he was sneaking out and going to see you, he didn’t care how much it hurt. 

He needed to make sure you were okay.

***

Thinking back on it, sneaking out of the house when he could barely stand was probably a terrible idea.

The good idea had been stealing Cheol’s car. Sure he would be mad but it was smarter than trying to walk there. That would have just ended up with him actually dead.

As he pulled up to the bar he parked in the parking lot behind the building and slowly made his way out of the car. Limping his way to the front door of your Coven’s home. He had never been here, and to his knowledge no werewolf had entered here before, but he was hoping that was something that would change. Especially if you were inside. 

It was still light, just edging on twilight, and so he wasn’t too sure if anyone would be awake yet. Despite this, he slammed his closed fist against the door, hoping that someone would hear his knocking and let him in. As he waited, he felt his body grow heavier and his was growing a bit harder to breath in the cold snowy February weather. He felt his legs slump out from under him just as the door slowly opened, and he heard a gasp.

“Keonhee, Rowan! Help me!” The unfamiliar voice hit his ears almost as quickly as the sound of footsteps. Soon two sets of arms were helping him up and moving him into the bar, and at the urging of the first male voice they walked past the bar area and through a door labeled ‘employees only’ before taking a hard right into what Wonwoo was assuming was an office. 

As the duo helped him into a metal chair, probably to avoid potential blood stains. The male looked terrified of him, almost as if he was expecting Wonwoo to fall over any moment, while the female looked...moderately concerned but ultimately ended up dragging the frightened male out of the room, as another unfamiliar male entered. 

“Thanks, you two. I’ll be back to help with opening in a minute.” The new male said, patting the taller frightened male on the shoulder and giving a longing glance towards the female, who Wonwoo was almost positive was a Fae. The kind looking male made his way over and took a seat on the plush sofa across from Wonwoo.

“We definitely weren’t expecting you to show up, still half dead.” He began, chucking lightly as his eyes gazed over Wonwoo’s body. “I know you’re a wolf and all, but coming to a Coven’s den smelling of blood usually isn’t the best idea. Your blood reaks but that doesn’t mean we won’t still drink it.” 

Surprisingly, despite what the male was saying, Wonwoo didn’t feel any hit of actual intent behind them. Like it was more of a simple statement than a warning. Which was interesting, all things considering, but maybe that night did change things. Maybe it was the push they needed to be able to co-exist. 

“I mean, it wasn’t my best idea but i’m sure it’s what she would have done if our roles were switched.” Mentioning you had the male opposite of him throw his head back in laughter that almost sounded...sad.

After a moment the laughs died down and the male fixed Wonwoo with a look. 

“Before I take you to her. I just want to clarify that I don’t approve of...whatever this is. I know you Wolves have ‘destined mates’ and all and you can’t control that but, I can speak for all of us right now. We never want to see her in this state again. I personally want to kill you right here and now so that whatever pull you have over her will go away, but I know that would make things worse.” This...this was a threat. Wonwoo understood where he was coming from, it always hurt to see the ones you cared about in pain. It made it worse that he was a wolf and that the mate pull might have been affecting you harshly. 

“So you better not get this close to death again, you hear me?” 

“Jun, stop threatening him. You don’t scare anyone.” The new voice caused Wonwoo to flinch lightly, glancing over, he recognized this man, Minghao. He was...a bit shocked that he hadn’t heard the shorter man enter the room. You weren’t lying when you said that he was...extremely stealthy. 

His words caused the man, Jun, to jut out his lower lip in a pout. 

“Come on, Hao! I was giving the dad speech! I’ve never been able to give one!” 

“If anyone is gonna give him a ‘dad’ speech, it would be Soonyoung. So stop wasting time, before he actually dies.” Minghao definitely seemed to have a no nonsense attitude, and wasn’t putting up with any of the antics of his Coven mate at this point. As Jun continued to pout, Minghao made his way to help Wonwoo stand up again.

“Let’s go.” was all Minghao said before forcing Wonwoo along with him, Jun trailing behind them complaining about having to wash blood off the floor before opening tonight. 

When they exited the room, they took a right and entered a door to the right at the end of the hall. The interior of the room made it seem almost like a living room in a regular home, plush red sofa was pushed against the far left wall with two matching wing chairs on either side with a coffee table in front of them. Minghao ignored them and instead pressed forward to the door on the other side of the room. 

“Jun, unlock this for me.” Minghao requested, interrupting Jun’s mindless chatter that honestly Wonwoo had been ignoring up until this point, having been so focused on just walking without thinking of the pain. They slowed to a stop as they waited for Jun to take off the metal bars that had been attached to the door, setting them to the side before Minghao led him down the rather annoyingly small flight of stairs. The stairwell opened up to a rather strange underground bunker of sorts, the walls made of simple concrete with no direcorations anywhere in the hall. It was rather off putting. There were 8 doors with four on each side of the room, their small group made their way towards the furthest door on the right before Minghao let him go.

“She’s in there right now. Careful going in, she might try and feed off of you. So, don’t die I guess.” With that Minghao turned away from Wonwoo and grabbed Jun’s arm and began dragging him back up the stairs. 

“Remember what I said!” Jun shouted out as he was being drug away. Which did actually get a small laugh from Wonwoo, before the still injured male turned to the heavy wooden door in front of him and slowly opened it.

#Caratwritersclub #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen drabble #seventeen werewolf au #werewolf seventeen au #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt scenario #svt drabble #svt werewolf au #werewolf svt au #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo scenario #jeon wonwoo werewolf au #werewolf jeon wonwoo au #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo werewolf au #werewolf wonwoo au

[willadisastercry]

Space godzilla meets Keith and Pidge bonding moment

tw: depiction of paralyzation of the body and of throat/mouth

Of the list of terrifyingly dangerous alien monsters they’d come across, this one is near the top. After crash landing on an unfamiliar planet, the pair find themselves getting well acquainted with the local wildlife on their unexpected sojourn. They also get better acquainted with each other as they struggle against this beast and with the injuries from the battle that just keep getting more terrifying.

(((Keith and Pidge sharing emotional intimacy while one of them is hurt or both are is an ELITE trope and you cannot tell me otherwise)))

“GAH!”

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance?! I can probably get a hold of it’s tale with my bayard...”

“I’m good, just... this thing is relentless. It doesn’t have a single weakness except I don’t think it can hear well, that’s the only reason it hasn’t tried to eat you again.”

“Good to know? But let me help, Keith, you’re hurt too.”

“I’m still standing, am I not?”

“Your back is like shredded bud, it’s called adrenaline, ever heard of it?”

He opened his mouth as if to respond but didn’t get the chance to before he was launching himself over the swooping arc of the stinging tale that threatened to take his legs out from under him. His body stretched as he jumped and contracted almost as quickly to send himself tumbling forward, a stiff gasp escaping his lips when the stingers already at home in his back shifted and reduced him to a crouch while he rode the waves of agony that followed.

“That’s it...”

Pidge activated her bayard and sent it forward just as the tale of the oversized killer iguana was going back for seconds while Keith was still down, its struggle only aided the momentum of the grappling hook as it wrapped around the deadly appendage.

That bit was pretty seamless. What wasn’t seamless was when the creature started fighting her hold, a counter measure she hadn’t really planned for and wasn’t at all equipped to combat given she was very much reduced to sitting on her butt.

“Uh, Keith?” Pidge asked in a shriller voice than she intended as she dug one heel into the rocky soil beneath her.

“I know you’re like not doing great at the moment, but right about now would be a good time to, I don’t know, do the thing... that you do, ya know?”

The creature reared around as best it could with its tale entrapped and began yanking. Digging both heels into the ground was now all Pidge could do to keep from going flying. She couldn’t even hold back her screech when her torn muscles and slashed tendons protested that, the gash in her thigh squishing and swelling with another spurt of blood, whatever clotting that had been achieved entirely lost.

She almost cried out with relief she when heard Keith grunting and saw as he pulled himself up to his feet despite the burning twinge across the entire expanse of his back as well as his arms and shoulders, because Pidge was right, he did need to do the thing he does and end this.

“That’s a start, now I’m pretty sure what happens next is it gets more mad and seeing as i’m attached to my bayard still—“

But he didn’t need her to explain her predicament, he saw the danger immediately and lunged at the beast while it was still focused on attempting to wriggle free.

He knew aiming at its exposed underbelly was useless, the skin was too tough, but he also knew he couldn’t get close enough to go for a limb without risking getting sliced to ribbons by its claws. They had both found that one out the hard way.

So, with the beast temporarily distracted by Pidge he resolved to make a break for the underbelly anyway, the thing was huge but it’s limbs were short and set so far apart that if he could just slide under it and—

The next few moments happened in a blur. He did the thing without so much as a second thought, like he quite literally acted in whatever fashion his brain first thought of, too sluggish and dazed to afford waiting for something other than his instincts to come through.

The creature let out a horrible screech and bucked against Pidge’s grasp on its tale, she let out a strangled yelp as she was pulled forward and off the ground for a moment before landing back down hard. She heard Keith gagging as bright yellow acid oozed nearly onto his face from where his sword had pierced the only place he could think would be soft enough to bypass, clutching his nose at the acrid sizzling as it spluttered onto the dirt next to him.

“Pidge! On three retract your bayard, okay? One, two—“

“What? No, I can’t. It’ll—“

“Three!”

Keith picked his feet up as he hung on the sword stuck in what he assumed was the creatures gullet. It came away with even more acid blood as he dropped to his knees and tried to get out from under the stream, the top of his forearms being spared only by his armor as it disintegrated in a sickening hiss before his eyes. He managed to be vaguely concerned about wether it would stop at his armor before all of his worry went to avoiding being crushed to death as the beast took off.

Keith opened his eyes only when the thumping of the creatures claws began to notably shrink in the distance. He was curled up protectively on his side and too exhausted to move just yet.

“Huh, if only we had listened to Pidge earlier...” she mused teasingly as she pulled herself into a more comfortable sitting position.

“Shut up, are you alright? How’s the leg?”

“The leg is relatively the same, slightly more numb, started bleeding again, but still attached so that’s all that matters.”

She glanced back at the concerningly large puddle she’d left behind and the newly forming one underneath her. The blood loss wasn’t yet dangerous but she knew that could change rapidly if they didn’t get to Green soon. And for that she would need a functional Keith because she was fairly certain she couldn’t walk.

“Don’t think you can just deflect onto me, how’s your back you idiot?”

He thought deeply for a second, forcing himself to push past the impending haze as the steady stream of adrenaline coursing through his body began to taper off.

“Feels weird... the tingling and burning is starting to travel. Probably safe to say that the stingers have some sort of poison or irritant I guess... and it’s—oh my god it’s blood is—wait, crap!”

He wasn’t really mindful that he was rambling but grateful that it reminded him of the acid eating away at his armor and scrambled to detach what was left of it, scrubbing away what had just started making its way through his undersuit.

“It’s blood is WHAT?! Did it get on you?!”

“Yeah. Well no, I’m good,” he sighed and rolled around to sit up as painlessly as he could manage to.

“It ate my armor and I think my the hair on my forearm is gone, but my skin is in tact, well most of it. Sit tight though, I’m coming over there.”

“Kay, not going anywhere...”

Keith made his way slowly. His legs were leaden with excertion and whatever lovely substances the overgrown demon lizard stung and scratched him with seemed to only make it worse.

“Well you look awful.”

“Thanks, you too,” he said as he sat down heavily, his muscles screaming at the effort walking even a couple feet took and his head swimming for a moment.

“Rude, but turn around and let me see,” Pidge’s order was final but Keith’s body was slow, not really listening to what he wanted that well.

“Keith, I will slap you, stop trying to be a tough guy.”

He only managed to swivel sideways and lean the rest of the way to expose enough of his battered back to quell her chastisements.

“Hmm, the space-godzilla got you good,” she muttered as she pulled him closer to examine the bleeding gashes from the creatue’s claws and swollen welts from the barbs of its hellish tail.

Various bits of their armor had been knocked off by its claws and tail during the attack. For Keith, his chest plate had cracked after several blows and fallen off, which is why he was so bad off now.

There were three slashes starting from his left shoulder blade that made their way down to the middle of his back, all wide and jagged with blood leaking steadily from them, the skin around the wounds just as irritated as the welts from the stingers that trailed along in several lines up and down his back.

The skin around the gash on Pidge’s thigh fared the same though her symptoms had progressed more, the majority of her thigh swollen and blotchy with a tingling sensation that spread from her toes to her hips.

“Some of the stinger things are still lodged in your back... I think I should pull them out so ya know, no more of the toxin is released, that good with you?”

“Yeah whatever, just be qui—Oooh, okay—OH, ouch!”

Keith’s entire body tensed as she yanked the remaining stingers out, summoning another surge of blood from his scratch wounds.

“All done, sorry! I didn’t realize they were serated.”

“S’ okay,” he breathed through gritted teeth as blood began to trickle from the welts Pidge had just de-stingered.

“We’ve gotta get to our lions and contact the rest of the team before we start feeling the full affects of the toxin, do you think you can walk if I help you?” Keith asked as he was getting to his knees.

“My leg is pretty much entirely numb... I don’t know if it’s from the damage of the wound itself or what was coating the claw, but I can try.”

Keith got his feet under him and reached down to hook his arms under her armpits.

“Ready?”

Pidge nodded and he lifted her to her feet. She fought to stifle her groan when the skin around the wound was pulled and then tried to put her weight on it but it immediately buckled.

“Shit, okay. We can work something else out.”

“Sorry, I can probably hobble...”

“No hobbling when I have a spot just for you on my one remaining shoulder.”

“Huh? Wait, no!”

Pidge protested but Keith had no energy for it as he hoisted her up and over his good shoulder, her own mind not as hazy as his apparently because he now had a sense of humor. Keith never made jokes, but now he couldn’t stop. And it was freaking weird.

“Ugh, put me down!”

“Nope, sorry. Friendly reminder for passengers: please keep all hands and feet within the—“

“Oh my god, you’re delirious.”

“...maybe slightly, but you’re bleeding out so checkmate.”

Pidge wanted to slap him because that’s not how chess works, but grumbled instead and went to nudge him in the stomach with her knee but the movement jostled her thigh causing her keen at the way it burned, the torn everything that lay beneath pulling visciously.

She felt Keith’s hesitant hand hover over the back of her injured thigh before making his mind up and pressing it down against his stomach. She wailed because she couldn’t help it but was somehow able to rationalize his decision and be thankful.

Pressure, that was smart of him. Even in a state of literal delirium he had the presence of mind to do that because he was right, she was bleeding out. It hadn’t severed an artery but it likely nicked one with the way it had gushed initially.

“Th-thanks, hurts like a bitch, but thanks.”

“Anything for you, Pidge.”

She could almost laugh at how soft Keith was being, how open and lighthearted he was. The posion was admittedly closer to his heart and his brain which was probably why Pidge was more coherent though partially paralyzed.

Both injuries weren’t any better or worse than the other though. Pidge was very much in danger of losing too much blood and Keith was very much in danger of succumbing to adverse affects of the posion.

But she could hardly feel Green which meant they had a way to go still, it was less than ideal but of all people that would be able to get them there under such unfortunate circumstances, she was glad it was Keith with her. He was just as impossibly stubborn as she was and Pidge had no doubt that he’d do whatever he could to make it there in time.

“You know where you’re going right?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, already winded “crashed on the other side of this ridge... ha, course it’s up a hill, of course...”

“Stop as much as you need to if you need a break—“

“Nah, if I stop I don’t know if I’ll be able to start again.”

Pidge worried at her bottom lip, the skin already raw.

“Just let me know how you’re doing every now and then... since you’re so dead set on being my personal transport.”

He grunted at that and Pidge accepted it was as much of an answer as she was going to get. He walked for a while, the bounce of his gait and unrelenting pressure on her leg sufficiently shorting her dulled nerves for their tolerance for pain.

She could still feel the wound and how mangled the inside workings of her leg were, not even the numbing of the poison could take it away, but the tingling had traveled to her hip now and slowly made its way up her side. The feeling of Keith’s hand on the back of her thigh diminishing by the minute.

Pidge could only imagine how Keith was fairing with the numbness of the poison, she wondered if he could even feel her weight on his shoulder with how many pricks he’d received from the monster.

“Almost halfway up... this goddamned hill... can-can you feel Green yet?”

“Yeah, stronger than before at least. We’re getting closer. How do you feel?”

“Feel fine... i’m good,” he answered quickly, but his words were sloshing together somewhat, his pronunciation becoming lazier.

“Well, I can’t feel anything on my right side anymore except for my arm, so that’s lovely.”

“Hm, yeah... my back’s numb... scratches don’t hurt much anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best right now.”

“Yeah...”

The next few minutes passed slowly. Keith’s breathing getting heavier with the continued effort but no matter how much Pidge urged him he refused to even slow down for a minute let alone stop altogether to catch his breath.

So freaking stubborn, but she couldn’t blame him. She was the same way.

As they made their journey she found it more and more difficult to tear her mind away from worrying about the poison, what it could do to their bodies, if it was even curable. It could be lethal to humans and their efforts could very well be for nothing and they’d have no idea.

“Hey... you okay?” Keith asked, his voice gentle.

“Huh?”

“You’re breathing funny... wait, are you—don’t cry... we’re-we’re going to be fine, Pidge. Stop thinking about it...”

“I’m just scared,” her voice was meek, her chest shuddering as more tears slid silently down her face.

“I know... me too... but we’ll be okay... won’t let anything happen to you...”

“Okay...” she breathed shakily, her mind still working over her worries but also over the fact that she was so emotional, paranoid even, finally resolving it was probably another side affect of the poison.

She hoped that Keith didn’t get anxious like her, he’d gotten a stronger dose of the toxin and so she feared what paranoia would look like on him since he was already pretty delirious.

“Hey, Keith?”

He hummed, talking wasted too much energy and he didn’t much left to waste.

“I can feel Green a lot now, can almost hear what she’s trying to say. She’s stronger than when we left her, scared for me I think.”

“S’good... s’really good.”

They were nearing the top of the hill. Pidge could feel the elevation changing as the steep incline lessened and Keith straightened up with her, his breathing leveling and the muscles under her relaxing slightly, no longer straining to balance her while leaned forward.

“See her... see Green,” he spat with some effort. Words came a lot harder now, his mouth as dry as if it was full of cotton.

“She’s really worried... I can feel how scared she is...”

“Tell her... s’okay...”

“I will—hey slow down, we’re here, don’t waste more energy.”

“Can’ sl-slow...” he slurred like his tongue had stopped working. The dryness in his mouth extended down his throat and when he inhaled too sharply trying to articulate himself and choked, ragged coughs shaking his tiring frame.

“Oh, okay, don’t talk then. Just keep walking, you can rest soon.”

He only grunted this time, his breaths becoming as strained as they were when they were coming up the hill. He surged forward dazedly, his vision blurring slightly but he ignored it. They were so close, just a couple more yards and they’d be safe. Just a little further and—

“-eith, Keith! Do you hear that? Godzilla’s back and he brought friends!”

Keith hadn’t realized he’d zoned out in his intense concentration to get to Green before he succumbed to the numbness that seemed to cover every square inch of his body, weighing on his chest like a heavy cloud.

He heard it now though, the rumble of taloned appendages and the whipping of barbed tails.

Shit.

“How far are we from Green? Because our buddy from before and his friends are about a mile out, but they seem to be moving a tad faster than we are...?”

He didn’t answer, his legs moving faster than he knew he could manage with how nonexistent they felt, carrying them forward with reckless abandon as black dots danced across the quickly shrinking space between him and Green’s open jaws.

He couldn’t feel his feet hitting the ground, he didn’t even know he was running, he just felt the burn in his chest and the twinge on the skin of his back as he moved.

Pidge was saying something but he couldn’t hear her, he couldn’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the splitting ringing in his ears and pulse of his own heart as it pounded in his chest.

The alien beasts descended on them quickly, he was later told, and Pidge screamed her throat raw the entire time urging him to get them inside Green before they became dinner.

He wasn’t sure when he’d made it over the threshold of the lion or when he’d dropped to his knees to let Pidge down softly before falling forward in a heap.

“Damnit Keith, Green go! C’mon girl, I can’t fly-I can’t even move and Keith needs help...”

Once the pain in her leg died down from him abruptly releasing the pressure that was keeping the wound stabilized, she turned to her struggling friend, pushing away the fear that spiked as her own numbness encroached further.

He’d collapsed onto his front bonelessly and was wheezing like he’d just run a marathon with a punctured lung. It didn’t sound good and he didn’t look much better. The wounds on his back were angry, the skin puffy with hives and bleeding still.

If she didn’t know better she’d have thought he was having an allergic reaction and going into anaphylactic shock, but her wound looked the same.

“Keith?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look like he’d heard her.

Pidge grunted in frustration when she couldn’t get her legs to bring her much closer to him, relying on her arms to physically move them as she awkwardly scooted.

She vaguely wondered how long it would be until she couldn’t sit up on her own as she lowered herself down to eye level and moved the damp locks that had fallen in front of his face away so she could see his eyes. They were bloodshot and unfocused as they darted about rapidly, his pupils blown entirely.

“I need you to breathe steadier for me okay? We’re in Green and we’re on our way back to the castle... you just need to hold on a little longer...”

Keith could see Pidge’s mouth moving and her hand on his head, but her words were lost on him and so was her touch. It felt like she was shouting across a void, like he was underwater and everything was garbled. He didn’t know why he couldn’t hear her, why he couldn’t feel anything.

He just knew he couldn’t breathe and that his head was going to explode.

“Catch your breath and calm down, we’re gonna be okay...”

Taking in air was a chore, like he was trying to fill up a balloon that had already popped. He couldn’t really feel his body beneath him as he struggled, he thought he could feel his throat closing though with how tight it grew.

“We’re gonna be fine... just keep breathing, Keith... even if it hurts... we’ll be okay...”

Pidge was saying these things mostly for herself now, Keith hadn’t answered her once since they’d made it to Green and she couldn’t even be sure he was conscious now. The numbness had spread to her middle, the muscles in her back and hips failing, reducing her to laying on her back.

For a while it had felt like it had stopped there until she tried to check on Keith and found her neck was immobile now too.

“No, no, no—fuck!”

That was when she’d started crying again. She was paralyzed. Her muscles were entirely lax, completely unresponsive to anything she tried to tell them to do. But her ears were unaffected. She would be able to hear when Keith stopped breathing next to her.

The poison had likely attacked his pulmonary system with the proximity of the wounds to his lungs, the claws maybe even knicked one. For Pidge it attacked her nervous system from the extensive damage to about a dozen crucial nerves in her leg.

She tried to curse pitifully again but the muscles in her face were tingling, managing nothing more than a nose wrinkle before she lost all control. The tears fell freely now. All she hoped for was a crackle over the coms from her friends when they got close enough to the castle to receive one.

Keith continued to wheeze, soon falling into an almost dream state as he struggled against the increasing paralysis in his mouth and throat, the decreased oxygen to his brain likely playing a hand in it.

He saw his home in the dessert except his father was there. He saw flashes of red and orange like fire and sand. They swirled around him threateningly, like they were taunting them. His father looked like he was saying something to him, but the sand whirred deafeningly.

“What?!” he thought he heard himself calling out through the wall of flames that seperated them. The blaze was tantalizingly close and gaining ground each second.

“Dad, what are you saying?”

The fire raged stronger now, the heat and lack of oxygen in the air around them as the flames licked it up bringing his father to his knees.

“No, no—Dad!”

Keith started toward the flames that were now receding, drawing toward his father who was still trying to tell him something.

But it was too late.

The flames circled him, closing in and swallowing him up.

Keith felt like he was the one burning as he saw his father taken away from him once more before darkness enveloped him.

“Dad...” he whispered in defeat.

The static that sounded from the coms device brought another surge of tears down Pidge’s face once Keith had stopped calling out and finally relaxed, his breaths choppy and sporadic but less erratic.

He was calling for his father, it was the first intelligent word she’d gathered from him once he’d started up. He sounded like he was crying too.

“-dge...-th...in...-idge-Keith...come in...guys? Please report.”

It was Shiro. He sounded scared.

“Pidge? Keith? Please tell us you’re okay...”

Hunk. Gosh, hearing him so worried hurt.

“Green has the other lions flipping their shit,”Lance remarked, trying to infuse some levity into his voice.

“Red is like actually wailing—wait, Coran sees you guys on the radar...”

She wanted to sob so badly, but her body refused. They were so close to being safe, to not feeling so wrong. She wanted to tell Keith it was going to be okay, that his father was gone but that he would be proud of him. That it’d be okay because he had his friends. And that she needed a hug as soon as he could breathe and as soon as she could stand.

But she just let her eyes flutter closed while Green landed them with a shudder that she didn’t feel. Everyone was on them in a second, worried voices pulling her from the darkness as equally worried faces hovered over her, poking at her leg.

“Pidge?! Pidge can you hear me?” Shiro was waving his hand in front of her but her face was entirely numb, her eyelids heavy and uncooperative but still functioning for now.

“That’s a lot of blood and—oh my god is that bone, aw god...” Hunk deadpanned before excusing himself to go hurl.

“What the heck? Her eyes are open and responsive but she’s not talking,” Lance noted as his mind worked over the strange scene.

Keith was still out of it, mumbling incoherently and breathing hoarsely. Coran was examining his back and figuring out a way to transport him without angering the wounds.

“I think I have an idea of what happened...” he offered once he’d inspected the swollen dots from the barbs and relayed his hypothesis to the rest of the team.

“Oh my god, so she’s like... paralyzed?” Lance questioned in horror.

Hot tears spilled down her face once more at their realization, Hunk appearing next to them and Allura coming into view as well.

“Pidge?” she asked softly, “er, blink twice if you can hear me?”

Blinking was difficult but possible, snapping her eyes back quickly each time just in case.

“Oh, Pidge...” she gushed sadly, taking her face in the palm of her hand.

“That must’ve been hell—I-I’m so sorry,” Hunk choked as he fought back a sob.

“We should’ve gone with you guys, I should’ve gone with you guys...” Lance griped defeatedly.

“No, I never should’ve sent you... it was too dangerous—“

“Er, Shiro? Could I get some assistance with Keith? Holding him like this seems to aggravate his breathing...” Coran interrupted as he sat with Keith against his chest after trying to carry him over his shoulder like he’d done with Pidge.

“Of course.”

“Rest now, Pidge. You’ve done more than enough,” Allura soothed, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

That was all the command she needed as she let the heaviness close her eyes for good. She felt herself become weightless before the tingling subsided into a pleasant nothingness.

The next thing she knew she was tumbling forward into warm arms, a familiar voice sounding not nearly as wrecked as it once had. She blinked back the haze from cryosleep only to realize that she just couldn’t see.

“These might help.”

She blinked with clarity once someone had put her glasses on for her, making her feel less disoriented now that she could actually see.

Keith stared down at her warmly.

“Hey there.”

“UGH!” she grumbled as she scrambled up and threw her arms around him, squeezing like she wanted to shatter his bones.

It wasn’t long before she was fighting the hysteria in her voice.

“Don’t scare me like that ever again! It was horrible! You-you were getting worse and I couldn’t m-move, I th-thought I’d have to hear... hear you...”

“Hey,” he said as softly as he spoke to her on that stupid planet, rubbing her back in an effort to quell the stuttering of her chest.

“I didn’t. We’re okay, just like you said we’d be...”

“O-okay,” she managed through sobs now that she could actually cry.

They stayed like that for a while which was surprising when she thought about it but she didn’t care to consider it in depth, that he was letting her hug him so long, that he was comforting her.

“How long were we out?” she asked after some time. It was probably night judging by the dim lights and lack of swarming that occurred. Keith was stubborn so she could imagine him refusing to let her wake up without greeting her first or some noble shit like that.

“Well I was out for like a day, not much to fix I guess. The slashes weren’t deep, not heavy duty work or anything. The poison paralyzing my throat however... was a slight issue. The pod stopped it before I like stopped breathing or whatever, but Coran said he had a plan for if that happened.”

Keith readjusted so that he held most of her weight more comfortably as she calmed down.

“You on the other hand, were in for three days, almost four.”

Pidge sat back from her home against his chest and underneath his arms to look at him with an amusingly bewildered face, needing to know every detail now temporarily overriding her sadness.

“Three days?! Why?”

“Well you did almost bleed out... and then there were the several muscles sliced clean in half as well as a few snapped tendons from said severed muscles... oh and the full body paralysis from a toxin that had to be flushed out... so yeah, took a hot second. And you’re not allowed to say I scared you because you scared me pretty well too.”

“Oh... sorry for scaring you.”

He pulled her back into his arms and she closed her eyes against the steady rise and fall of his chest, a much welcomed change.

“Your... your dad would be proud of you, ya know?”

She felt Keith stiffen against her for a moment at the mention of her father.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s just—you were calling out for him... and I couldn’t comfort you, tell you that it’d be okay or that... well he’s not here, but we are...”

Pidge took a shaky breath ans Keith tightened his arms around her, his body no longer tense as she struggled to articulate her words through the hitches in her breath.

“It just hurt hearing you call for him like that and not be able to do anything... made me want my dad... I-I miss him too...”

She thought she heard his breathing pick up, felt him moving his hands to his face as he continued to rub her back. She didn’t care, just hugged tighter.

“Thanks... for that,” he said finally.

“Thanks for not dying before you saved us.”

“Ha, checkmate I guess.”

She laughed because that’s just once again not how that works and nestled herself somehow further against the warmth of Keith’s chest because... they were okay.

#keith whump #pidge whump #keith kogane #pidge gunderson #vld #voltron whump #voltron fic #voltron fanfic #whump prompt #whumpy #keith angst #voltron pidge #keith x pidge #vld pidge #voltron keith #pidge angst #voltron angst #poison #emotional whump

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 22

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: smut

A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long to come out, i got very confused and blocked in my own writing? idk, big writer block with this one so i decided to go watch some mythology documentaries and read some books to get the creative vibes flowing and this is what came out of it. 

Next Chapter >>

To say that Bucky was mad at her was the understatement of the year. No, the understatement of the century and it was driving Y/N crazy. She hated to see Bucky mad because he simply never looked it, he never exploded or screamed at her, he’d just excuse himself and be away from her with the look of utter disappointment.However, in normal circumstances, he’d return to her side and only discuss out how he was feeling. Today was not one of those days. 

She had arrived from the Elysium with Psyche around sunset, and he wasn’t home or in his office. No candles were light, and there was no smell of smoke either which suggested he hadn’t been home in a long time and despite Psyche offering up to help her look for Bucky feeling guilty over it, Y/N just sent her home back to her husband. 

Hours passed, and she was sat in the living room expecting his arrival, but after he didn’t come home, Y/N decided to go to bed. What a terrible, terrible decision as once she laid down, every single thing came rushing to her. She felt awful for maybe not discussing it with him about going to the dinner, but at the same time, she didn’t want Psyche to get any more impossible labours at the hand of Aphrodite. After turning around at least a couple hundred thousand times, she raised her torso, magically expecting him to be back so she could apologise. He, however, wasn’t, and for the very first time, she found it more soothing not to be in bed. 

Carefully, she tiptoed to the kitchen, turning the kettle on and resting her chin against her hands as she heard the water boil. After stem filled the room, she placed a tea bag on one of James’ pristine white cups and added some water, opening the windows of the kitchen to hear the sound of restless sounds which sounded way better than the sound of her overthinking mind. What she wasn’t expecting was to see James sat by the river Styx’s shores, smoke coming from around his figure. Intending to fix whatever she had done, she stepped out of the house, ignoring how cold the meadows were during the pure black night and walked up to Bucky. He was smoking, something she didn’t know he did and in normal circumstances, she would complain about it, but since he was immortal, she guessed it couldn’t kill him.

 - Thought you’d be sleeping by now. - he took the liberty of speaking first as she sat on the shore by his side. - A bit late for you to be up. 

- I was worried about you. - Y/N tapped her fingers against the ground, slowly reaching towards his to test him. When he didn’t push her finger again, she wrapped her pinky around his. - I’m sorry that I said yes to Psyche, I didn’t know you’d be so against it. I just, I just wanted to help her. Don’t be mad at me. 

- I’m not mad at you, sunflower. - he puffed out the smoke that had been in his lungs for longer than it should’ve had, putting the bud off. - I just had a particularly lousy conversation with Hecate. Not feeling particularly useful about it. 

- I’m sorry. - Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, the rest of her fingers interlacing it with his. - Penny for your thoughts? Maybe it can make you feel better? 

- I don’t think even you can fix it, sunflower. I’m afraid this time Hecate has a relatively stable point. 

- Tell me. - she looked at him with the warmest look someone could’ve ever given. He guessed that one way or another she was going to find out, she was a smart girl, and word travelled fast in the Olympus. 

- You don’t need to, and I just thought that maybe ... - It’s complicated, but I guess I can start by answering who the man next to me in the photo by the dining room is. - he sighed. - His name is Steve Rogers. 

The name rang a bell on her head. Where had she heard that name? Y/N was sure she had heard that name until it hit her. She knew him, well, at least she knew who he was. He had seen his picture in the Smithsonian museum; he was Captain America. Why was Bucky friends with Captain America? Did Captain America roll with the god of the Underworld for fun because if so, it made sense why he was so skilled at avoiding death. 

- You’re friends with Captain America, and you never mentioned it to me? - she chuckled, expecting him to do so, but instead, he kept his worried face. - Is that it? 

- Steve’s dead, he’s here, and he doesn’t remember me. I had to approve it when he entered the Elysium, sometimes I see him, and he doesn’t know me. I thought there was nothing worse than that, but then Hecate pointed out that’s the same that’s going to happen to you. They’re not going to allow you into the Elysium, you’ll be here in the Meadows, restless, and you won’t know who I am. 

- James. - she cupped his face, leaning her forehead against his. - You told me we’d figure it out, so let’s just stick by that. Besides, what does Hecate know about mortals? 

- You’re too lovely, Y/N. - Bucky kissed the top of her nose. - Even though you’ve cursed us to dinner with the Pantheon’s couples. 

- It can’t be that bad. - she raised from her sitting position, hands still holding his. - We should go to bed. James. It can’t possibly be right for you to stay up all day and night. 

- It’s cute you think anything could cause me any harm. - he followed her, hand still connected to hers feeling that constant warmth that always seemed to irradiate from her palm, hair messy from getting up from the bed and a robe wrapped around her. 

- There’s gotta be something that can harm even a god, James. No one is safe from harm. - she argued, entering their shared residence, the cup of tea cold and now laying on the dark marble of his kitchen counter. He raised his eyebrow at her statement, eyes moving from her calm yet argumentative complexion to her hand connected to his. 

She was right, there was indeed something that could bring any harm to him, preferably someone who could bring any damage to the god of the Dead and that someone was holding his hand, the same hand who’d killed many before and the same hand that had signed off the death of more. She quickly seemed not to care, or maybe be slightly unimpressed by his job. 

- You have to stop staring at me like that. - Maybe stop looking like that and then I’ll stop staring at you. - he let go of her hands to place both his palms on her waist, slowly but surely pushing her against his chest. 

- I’ll try not to disappear as much, sunflower. 

- I’ll try not to say yes to everything in return. - she relished into him, head tucked comfortably into his chest whose cold nature never seemed to bother her. - We should go to bed. 

- Maybe we should. - his head leaned onto her uncovered shoulder, leaving a series of kisses where her bra strap mark was. James took her head in his large calloused hands, cupping her cheeks and moving her slowly into their bedroom upstairs, which felt more like stepping into clouds and gradually ascending to the heavens. 

His tongue is velvet, warm and somewhat sharp, and it slips in between her lips with ease. His kiss is sickening sweet, almost like kissing someone who had just drank a can of soda. It’s so filthy, so inexplicably right and yet wrong what they were doing and even wronger still was the way he held her throat and chin. A firm hand wrapped around gently around her gentle neck, the tips of his calloused, scarred fingers brushing against it while his thumb held her chin up, just under it, holding it up for better access with a grip only the god of the Death could possess. Y/N fluttered her eyes open to stare at him, finding his narrowed and half-closed blue eyes staring down at her, dirty with lust and desire. 

- When I said we should go to bed, I meant we should go and sleep. - she whispered against his mouth, making him chuckle. James stopped kissing her, choosing to peck her skin instead while his hands slid down to her robes to pull them away from her body. 

- I thought this would be more up to your liking. - he took her earlobe in his mouth while he quickly slipped his hands to her chest, kneading and caressing her soft breasts in his cold hands, earning a moan from her.

 The difference in skin temperature complimented each other so well. She could feel the roughness of his hands against her soft and silky skin making her moan just with the contact of their skins together and as if by a blessing from the Gods themselves, she felt his tongue and lips drift from her neck to her chest as he grabbed her thighs and propelled her up to wrap her legs tightly around his waist to be closer to him. Y/N could feel his large manhood pressed tightly against his underwear, and the mere feeling of his cock pressed up to the middle of her legs so tightly and warm made her wet. 

She hadn’t realised how needy she was, the friction in between her legs not being able to compensate for the stimulation he was giving her. His lips and tongue worked wonders on her skin, sucking and nibbling and kissing every inch of beautiful silky skin he could put his mouth on and, once he was finished, she was marked so beautifully by him. Not that Bucky minded that a whole lot, maybe he wanted her to be marked by him at that stupid dinner. 

- I can’t wait to feel you throbbing around me, sunflower. I can’t wait to feel you tighten around my thick cock as you scream from the top of your lungs, crying loudly and begging me to make you cum. It’s been so long, sunflower. So long. 

She could feel her clit aching, thighs trembling and folds drenched so desperate to be taken by him, legs spread as wide as she could ready to let him use her like he wanted to and enjoyed to. He laid her down in their bed and lodged himself in the middle of her legs, hands on either side of her hips, slowly grinding against her. 

- Stop teasing. - she whined. He hummed, undressing in front of her until he’s completely naked like so many times that she had seen him so but, this time, it felt better and right. Y/N felt like this was even better than the previous time they had had been intimate, and when she feels the tip of his shaft slowly enter her, her back rose from the mattress as if she had been possessed. 

Somehow, it felt better to do it in no man’s land.

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19 @nwbstan

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/N #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky/reader #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #hades!bucky #hades!sebastian stan

[stones-x-bones]

Slayer? I Hardly Know Her || Dani and Bex

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @surmamort and @inbextween SUMMARY: This is why we use the buddy system on campus. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Blood

The soft patter of rain on Dani’s windshield would have sent her to sleep had it not been for the roll of thunder and the flash of lightning across the ever darkening sky. For the most part, she found thunderstorms relaxing, but not when she had to drive in them. The tires on her truck were balding, and though she had been told time and time again by both of her mom’s that they would get her a new vehicle, she had bought Cleo with her own money, and the last thing she wanted was to sell it as scrap metal. She’d keep her truck for as long as she could-- besides, getting a new vehicle would mean installing a plethora of new secret compartments, and the only person that Dani trusted to do that was herself. 

She lifted the cup of half-empty, too-sweet coffee to her lips, disappointment following at the lack of heat from the liquid. The sugar coated her tongue and her stomach churned. She wouldn’t need to stay much longer-- just until she saw the parking lot clear of any vehicles. Though UMWC was notorious for late night stays, especially in the library. Dani would stay until she saw the lights turn out, and then she would head home. What should have been an easy thirty minute wait stretched into an hour, and then two hours. It wasn’t until Dani saw the door finally open did she perk up. Hands on the steering wheel, she leaned forward and watched as a girl who couldn’t be much older than herself, came into view. The only problem? There was somebody else watching her-- just parallel to where Dani was currently parked-- something she hadn’t immediately noticed. Had they always been there? 

Bex hadn’t meant to stay so late, but she’d been doing that more and more lately. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on a degree she didn’t want to be in. She was realizing that more and more, with each passing day she had to attend classes that put her to sleep. She just kept thinking about other classes, like Professor Beck’s class, and maybe even taking Professor Campbell’s Classics lecture. But she wasn’t in a position to do anything about it yet, so slogging through essays about criminal law and business law was her life right now. She had an exam soon, too, that she needed to study for, and it was all just piling up. Not to mention that she had been out for over three weeks of classes, thanks to the stupid dream curse thing, and then her injuries after. 

But when she looked up today, she found that all the lights were almost out and it was dark outside. “Shit!” she swore quietly, slapping her books closed and shoving them into her bag. She knew she didn’t have to worry, she was still staying at Morgan’s and she wasn’t going to be mad if Bex came in late-- but at this point it was just second nature for Bex to worry. She slid on her backpack and dashed out the door. The parking lot was empty save for one car, and the street lights were flickering. That meant the busses weren’t running anymore, either. She’d have to call someone for a ride. Sighing, she pulled out her phone and went to dial up Mina when something made a noise behind her. She spun on her heel. “Hello?” she called out, but there was no answer. Oh, this wasn’t good. This was like the start to a horror movie. So instead of waiting around outside for the killer, Bex turned and started running up towards the library doors again-- only to find that they were locked. She spun around again and went to dial quickly when she spotted someone just down the stairs from her. She was staring at Bex with hollow eyes and a wide grin. “Locked out?” she asked, and it was then that Bex noticed her teeth were jagged and sharp. Bex looked to the one car in the parking lot. If she ran, maybe she could make it and hope there was someone inside. Without another word, she bolted, but whoever this person was had known she was going to do that. A hand grabbed the back of Bex’s bag and yanked her down. She hit the sidewalk hard and her phone went flying from her hand. Oh, this wasn’t good. This was bad. This was very, very bad. She tried to scramble away, but the woman was much stronger than her. Like way stronger. She lifted her up and smiled at her again. “Where you going? I asked you a question.”

Dani stayed still, her breath barely audible to her own ears. The way that they had moved, it was unhuman like. The grip she had on her steering wheel tightened, and without missing a beat, she was reaching underneath of her seat for the stake that was hooked there. She threw open her car door as soon as she saw the brunette make a run for it, only to be jostled backwards. “Hey!” Dani bellowed out, her voice loud and commanding, just as Jeanette had taught her. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She held the stake against her palm, careful not to let it show. She could see the girl’s face clearly, both shock and horror contorting to create something out of a horror film. 

There was no fear in Dani’s heart, only annoyance. “Don’t you know campus is off limits?” Dani asked as she reached into her back pocket, grabbing the flask that was there. In it, holy water swished as she brought it before her. There’d be no way for the vampire to know what was inside, not until she splashed her with it. “I think you ought to let the student go,” Dani motioned towards the brunette with the flask, “she’s just studying-- no reason to create a scene.” Dani prodded her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “or you can make a meal of her, and then I can kill you-- but I’m pretty sure I’ll have you to dust before you can even blink.” She finally revealed the stake, brandishing it like a knife, “do you want it in the neck, or the heart?” 

She winced sarcastically at her own words, “oops, I forgot-- you don’t have one of those.” Quick on her feet, Dani twisted the cap of the flask and splashed the holy water at the vampire. Her short-ended shriek was loud in Dani’s ears, but it was enough to make her release the girl. She reached out, tugging on the brunette’s backpack just as the vampire had done, only with enough force to pull her away. The vampire lunged at the two of them and Dani pushed forward, nearly losing her footing-- but enough to cause the stake to clatter to the ground. The flask still in hand, she twisted her hand to an awkward angle, letting it pour over the creature’s arm as it tried to reach for the brunette. “Run!” Dani screamed at her, “go to my tru--” Before she could finish her sentence, the vampire knocked her to the ground, her thin fingers finding purchase on the stranger’s backpack again. “I’ll have my meal, and you’ll watch, stupid bitch,” the vampire growled as she repositioned her heel into Dani’s abdomen. 

The first thing Bex registered was fear. It radiated through her entire body and gathered in the pit of her stomach. Whoever this person was, they wanted to hurt her. The second thing Bex registered was that whoever this person was, she was one of those “not quite human” people. The way her eyes were stained red, the sharp teeth in her mouth, the inhuman strength-- Bex wasn’t stupid. But what she was, she had no idea. Because she didn’t know anything about this world, or the people in it. Or the not people in it. She struggled in the woman’s grasp as she grabbed Bex’s head and tilted it to the side, exposing her neck. But then there was another voice and both Bex and the woman looked up.

The things the other girl was saying didn’t make sense. What did she mean? What was she holding? A flask? Before Bex really had time to register what had been said, the other girl was flinging her flask at the woman and shrieked, dropping her. The girl shouted at her to run and Bex was suddenly reminded of when she’d been attacked by the cockatrice with Mina. This was just like that, wasn’t it? Except this was a person, not an angry chicken. And Bex didn’t want to explode a person. She tried to scramble to her feet, but the other girl was yanking her in a different direction again, and she stumbled on her own feet. She’d always been a clumsy person. Palms hit the cement and she winced. Blood pooled under the scraped skin. 

When she looked back, the older woman had thrown the other girl to the ground and stomped on her stomach. “Stop it!” Bex called out. Maybe she could help. Maybe if she concentrated, she could do something. Like Nell said. Pour her energy into something good. She’d done it before, she could do it again. “Stop! Leave her alone!” She felt the energy leave her, but the woman just stared at her, tilting her head. Even with all her nervous energy vibrating under her skin, nothing happened. No explosion, no sidewalk cracking, no headaches. Bex stared wide eyed as the woman descended on her, pinning her to the ground. “Get off!” she screeched as hands gripped at her wrist, slamming it into the ground. She cried out. The woman then lifted Bex’s bleeding palm to her hand and Bex watched, bewildered, as she licked up the blood. She smiled down at Bex, blood smeared on her lips. “Delicious.” She then grabbed Bex’s hair and yanked her head to the side, as she struggled uselessly underneath the woman. Teeth sunk into her neck and she screamed. She hated this world. She hated feeling useless. The library windows cracked and shattered. The nearby fence post splintered. But the woman on top of her remained untouched.

Dani let out a breath at the feeling of the creature’s weight on her abdomen. She splayed her hands out at her sides, trying to find anything to pick up, to lodge in the vampire’s leg. She looked up, towards the girl who was now yelling. “Didn’t,” Dani let out in an annoyed huff, her fingers slipping over the stake that had clattered to the ground, “I tell you to run?” A part of Dani was hopeful that the stranger would serve as a good enough distraction-- it was clear that the vampire hadn’t intended to run into a slayer. The relief Dani felt when the woman finally lifted her weight off of her stomach had her rolling to her side, but it was half a second later that she was back on her feet, swooping down to grab the wooden stake. 

“Hey!” Dani screamed, the sight of the vampire taking in the stranger’s blood almost too much to bear-- how could something so vile exist? It twisted her insides, and it seemed that no matter how many times she had seen it, she would never get used to it. It was something straight from Hell. If she believed in that. “Get the fuck off of her!” Dani’s focus was entirely on the creature who was bent over the brunette now, but the sound of something ripping-- cracking, it played as background music as Dani lunged forward. She gripped the back of the vampire’s head just as she had done to the girl and wrenched it backwards, “time for you to go now, thanks!” Dani let out an uncomfortable breath as she leaned in and plunged the stake into the vampire’s chest. 

In a flash, the creature who had been on top of the girl was gone, nothing but ash laid at their feet. Dani wasted no time in dropping to her knees, ignoring the girl’s possible need for personal space after what had happened. “Tilt your head.” She commanded, looking over the wound that had been created. It wasn’t that deep-- and it certainly wasn’t going to turn the girl. She looked down briefly at the scrape on her palm, blood smeared across it, as well as the pavement. “You’ll be fine. Physically. Maybe not mentally, but--” Dani leaned back, allowing for more room so that the brunette could breathe. “You won’t turn, you won’t crave blood, but you’ll probably have nightmares. Pot helps put you to sleep, but melatonin is what helps keep the nightmares away, at least that’s what I’ve heard.” Dani looked down the collar of her own shirt, the imprint of the creature’s shoe evident on her t-shirt. She would definitely bruise. “You good?” She asked as she got to her feet, doing her best to show no signs of pain. 

In one instant, there was splitting pain in Bex’s neck, and in the next, the weight of the woman on top of her simply vanished. And so did she. The world was spinning but Bex could tell with absolute certainty that the woman above her was gone. There was just...dust. And the other girl. Who was talking. She was talking and she was okay? How was she okay? The older woman had kicked her in the ribs, stood on her, smashed her. Bex’s head was pounding. What the fuck had just happened? “Where did…” she started, sputtering, her voice still quivering from the fear in her throat, “where did she g-go?” But her question fell to the wayside the more the other girl talked. Crave blood? Turn? What was she talking about? 

Bex wanted to sit up, but she couldn’t. The world was still spinning and the girl wasn’t making any sense. Nothing in this world made any sense anymore. She wanted to go back to her old life, where she knew exactly what to expect and how to deal with it. She could take an angry mother over whatever the fuck that was any day. At least she knew the pain her mother caused would go away. “Abso...lutely...not,” she breathed from the ground. She nearly ran her hands over her face before remembering they were covered in blood. Her neck was also bleeding, all over sweater. Finally, she sat up, looking around. “What was that? Who was that? What happened? How did you-- what did you do to her? Why didn’t my--” she stopped herself short and snapped her jaw shut. She didn’t want to say it. She wasn’t going to say it. She reached up and clamped a hand over her bleeding neck. “Do you have a tissue or napkin or...something?”

Dani narrowed her eyes at the girl, then nodded. She needed to stop assuming that everyone knew about vampires-- then again, wasn’t it her job to prevent people from knowing about them? By the look of shock and disgust on the stranger’s face, Dani was sure that the brunette knew nothing about them, and maybe that was a good thing. Only issue was, what could Dani do to keep her from going and blabbing to the newspaper? Maybe they’d pass it off as another screaming moose. That still got Dani laughing-- the idea that people believed that. Lost in her thoughts, she stared across the parking lot at her truck, the phantom feeling of the vampire’s foot on her chest now weighted heavily, making it slightly hard for her to breathe. 

It wasn’t until the brunette started to ask questions did Dani snap her attention from the splintered fence beyond where they were. “Oh, uh--” She shoved her hands into her pockets. Nothing. She picked up the flask from the sidewalk. There was still some holy water inside. “Wash your hands off with this.” Dani handed it over and took off her sweatshirt. “You can use this. It’s not a deep puncture, it should heal in a couple of days, but you’ll want to use some antiseptic and bandage it up, if you can.” She frowned as she dropped the sweatshirt into the girl’s lap. “I don’t know who it was, and it’s probably for the better, and you don’t need to worry about it, she’s gone now.” Dani fixed her frown up into a smile with her index fingers, “see? I’m smiling, which means everything’s all good.” She made an ‘ok,’ sign with her hand before she shoved the stake into her back pocket. “I got rid of her. For you. You’re welcome.” Dani adjusted the collar of her t-shirt, suddenly feeling as if it were too tight. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me even if I tell you, but if you see anything like that again, uh…” Running wouldn’t do her much good, “try and keep some of that on you,” she pointed to the flask, “it’s holy water.” 

Bex fumbled the flask and watched it clank to the ground next to her. Frowning, she picked it up gently with her thumb and index finger, not wanting to get any blood on it. She poured the water over her palms and winced when it burned. “Great,” she grumbled, “more bandages. I just got rid of the first set.” Her hands were still shaking from the fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins, but it was quickly turning into an anger she was becoming familiar with. An anger of ignorance over the world she’d been left out of for so long, despite, apparently, having abilities from it. Everyone around her seemed to decide for her what information she was allowed to. Walking on eggshells around her because she was just stupid, fragile Bexley. She looked at the sweatshirt, then back up at the girl. “I’m not...I know that woman wasn’t a good person, but she didn’t just vanish. People don’t do that. Or, I guess, not people, people. So either you can tell me what she was, or I can just go ask my friend what she was. It would be nicer if you did, though, considering you just killed her, probaby.” She shifted finally, standing on woozy legs. Her heart was still pounding and she hated it. Despite her efforts to seem fine after the encounter, her entire body was on alert and she knew her voice was still wavering in fear. “Wh-why does everyone say that? Like it’s their job to keep people in the dark? How about you let me decide if I believe you or not?” Another fence post crumbled and splintered behind them.

“Well,” Dani placed her hands on her hips, “at least you’re not dead, so there’s that.” If there had been any inclination that this girl would be on her way to turning-- though, it’d take a hell of a lot more than a simple bite, then Dani would’ve staked her on the spot, too. She wasn’t about to let some new blood sucker run around White Crest wreaking havoc, even if she hadn’t asked for the life that was forced upon her. Dani looked at the girl. She was certainly in a fragile state, and the last thing that Dani wanted on her hands was a breakdown in the middle of the college parking lot. She glanced towards the building, looking for cameras. She’d have to take care of those the following morning-- nobody would notice a solid hour missing from the footage. Luckily for her, she knew somebody in the AV club who owed her a favor or two. When the brunette started to speak, her voice picking up in pitch, it was evident that she was growing more upset. “You’re right, she’s dead.” Dani reached up and did jazz hands, “you saw a vampire, I saved you from it-- are you really not putting two and two together?” She arched a brow. Obviously there were people that were blind to what was around them, but to have its fangs in her neck and still be unsure? Dani watched the girl as she got to her feet. She looked as if she’d topple over at any moment. 

“Because,” Dani sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the sound of the fence falling to the ground. She looked back over at the girl apprehensively, “it sort of is my job. To save you, and to keep people in the dark.” Dani observed the girl for a moment, “because if I don’t, then it gets a hell of a lot messier, and I’m not looking for mess.” She scrunched her nose in distaste at the idea of the town succumbing to fear. It was easier to work when nobody knew what was lurking in the shadows, and even if she did relish in the praise given to her when she did something right, overall, it sounded like a nightmare, having to explain what vampires and zombies were-- or any other supernatural creature, really. “Look, I get it-- you just almost died, but I saved you, and you’re going to live a--” she looked over the girl, “I don’t know what kind of life you live, but hopefully it’s a nice, safe happy one, you seem nice enough for it.” She took a deep breath, “now, do you want a ride home?” 

A vampire. Of course it was a vampire. She’d been thinking that, hadn’t she? Bex wasn’t stupid, like this girl seemed to be implying. Who else had sharp teeth and red eyes and drank blood? Her brain was just spinning at the time. “You sound like someone else I know,” Bex muttered. At least Mina was nicer about it. She still didn’t know how Mina was involved in this world, but she was, and she figured, with time, Mina would tell her. Right? Her eyes wandered back over to the other girl, who looked annoyed. “A vampire…” she repeated quietly, holding her hand to her neck where the two puncture wounds were. “First magic, then demons, now vampires are real…” She felt nauseous again. She didn’t want to be a part of this anymore, it all felt like too much. Her brow furrowed in anger again. “Forgive me for not knowing right away that vampires are real. Apparently I wasn’t privy to this knowledge while everyone else seems to have been.” She knew she was getting unfairly upset at this girl, she had saved her after all, and she was grateful-- but her attitude after was picking at the insecure parts of Bex that had begun growing the second she’d accepted that she wasn’t just normal. 

Happy was a strange word for it. This girl didn’t seem all too perturbed by the fact that she just killed someone, but Bex wasn’t sure on the rules here. Were vampires people? Did they deserve to die? God, there were too many questions again. She was still shaking from the encounter, too, and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, which meant the fear was setting back in. Bex really was just defenseless in this world, wasn’t she? The thought made her stomach churn again. She looked over at the other girl and resigned herself. “Yes, I would,” she said quietly. “And, um-- thank you. For...saving me.”

The look on the brunette’s face told Dani that she was beginning to process the information. It was as if a light had been turned on, because the ashen look that had run across the girl’s face only grew. Dani cleared her throat, “well, if I sound like someone else you know, you should probably listen to them, they probably know what they’re talking about.” Dani offered an attempted smile, careful to keep her movements slow. She looked over at the girl as she began to mutter under her breath, an eyebrow arched. So she knew about demons and magic, why had she been so surprised about vampires? Dani bit back the words threatening to crawl out. Of course she’d be surprised-- nobody was actually supposed to know. That was a part of the whole, ‘keeping the supernatural world a secret from people who were vulnerable to it,’ thing. “Look, I’ve been dealing with them for a long time-- sometimes I forget that not everyone else has.” 

A silence settled over them and Dani used it to glance towards her truck. The door still hung open, the cab light on-- as if a beacon to their safety. She looked back over at the brunette and shrugged, “it’s what I’m here for.” The girl had been lucky that Dani had decided to patrol the school that night, otherwise there’d either be a new vampire on the prowl, or they would’ve found her body come sun up. “Well, come on,” Dani said as she approached the brunette, offering to support her from the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out. I have some ginger candies in my glove compartment, I’ll grab you one.” She helped guide the brunette towards her truck, then after a moment, “what was your name?” The sound of her door creaking loud to her ears, she waited until the stranger spilled herself into the passenger seat before moving around to slowly lift herself into the driver’s seat. “I’m Dani,” she finally said as she leaned over, ignoring the weapon in the glove compartment, finding a candy in between papers. She pulled back and dropped it into the girl’s lap before putting the pick up into drive. 

“Yeah,” Bex sighed, “she probably does.” More so than Bex, at least. Bex had no idea what she was doing in this world, or if she even belonged in it. She let out a shaky breath and felt the exhaustion she normally did whenever she accidentally used her magic, looking over at the other girl with a tired glance. Her neck hurt, her palms hurt, even her head hurt. With a resigned sigh, she followed after the girl, letting her lead her along. She tried her best not to flinch, she didn’t wanna be a dead giveaway to everyone she met, but muscle memory was often hard to overcome. She pulled away from her when she tried to help her, gripping the strap of her bag tightly, despite the pain in her palms, and forgetting about the blood still seeping from them. “I can walk on my own,” she muttered, even though it was difficult with the shake in her knees. 

When they made it to the car, which wasn’t far but felt like ages, Bex crawled in gratefully and sagged in the seat. “Bexley,” she muttered to the other girl, “my name’s Bexley.” Her eyes locked onto the knife in the glove compartment. I protect people, the girl had said. Mina had said that to her before, too. She swallowed hard. Was Mina like this girl? “How did you-- do that?” she asked into the quiet hum of the car’s engine. “How did you know how to do that? How to-- get rid of the vampire?”

Dani’s lips formed a hard line as she glanced towards the fence posts that were caved in as if some frat boy had tried to make a point of how strong he was and barreled into them. Only, there had been no frat boy-- only herself, Bexley, and the vampire who was long gone. It’d be hard to believe that anything watching them from the outside would have taken them down while watching the situation unfold before them. The only logical explanation was that Bexley had something to do with it. Hadn’t she mentioned something about magic? “How did I know…” Dani glanced over at Bexley as she pulled out of the parking lot, glancing both ways before pulling into traffic. It was then that Dani realized she never remembered a beginning to her lifestyle-- it was one she had always been in, so even though there was life on the other side of the parking lot and trees, it didn’t feel odd going back into it. 

“You’ve never watched a movie?” She asked with a laugh, stealing a glance of Bex out of the corner of her eye. She rested the heels of her hands against her steering wheel and mulled over how to explain it. It was obvious that she knew what she was doing, but confirming she was a hunter? That could put her in a vulnerable situation. “I’ve had to defend myself a few times,” she said instead, “you sort of learn.” She didn’t bother mentioning the heightened sense of vision, or the fact that she could move quick-- quicker than the average human, or that she was immune to the undead’s bite. “I did what I had to do.” She could feel a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Though she knew the girl was scared, Dani felt a sense of accomplishment in having so many questions thrown her way about the situation. “Where do you live?” She asked after a moment, realizing she was driving in the direction of downtown. 

“Uh, not particularly about vampires, no?” Bex said. “Also isn’t like-- most of the information in movies incorrect?” She pulled her sleeve up and dabbed it against the wound on her neck, resigning herself to another sweater ruined thanks to blood stains. She looked down at the candy that had been dropped into her lap, and tried to not let herself think too much about what had just happened. She didn’t need to have a breakdown in a stranger’s car. “Guess this place is more dangerous than I thought…” she muttered. This must’ve been why her parents kept her locked away in the house, instead of letting her free in the town. Maybe they were just trying to protect her from all the dangers of this town. She picked up the candy with her free hand and put it in her pocket. “Well, still...you didn’t have to, technically, so...thanks for not letting her um-- eat me?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. She hated that she’d had to just say that. Her legs felt numb again. “Harm-- err--” she’d been so distracted, she’d almost given the girl her actual address instead of Morgan’s. “East End.” 

“They get some shit right,” Dani admitted. “Maybe not all the time, but sometimes.” She looked over at Bex and how she began to care for the wound on her neck. She had to have some napkins somewhere, right? As they pulled up to a red light, Dani began looking through the bag that was between them. “Here,” she said absentmindedly once the light turned green. She placed the napkins on top of her bag for Bex to take. “Dangerous?” Dani asked with a raised brow. “That’s an understatement.” To be honest, she wasn’t sure why her community still allowed humans to move there. In Dani’s opinion, they should get all of them out, then take out all the Supes. It was a plan-- not a good one, but one that Dani dreamt of perfecting. Imagine saving an entire town, she had told her mom. Only, she had been told, we save who we can. Big whoop. “I wouldn’t have let her eat you, even if I hated you.” Dani turned her blinker on once she drove into the correct lane. She pulled up behind a string of cars waiting to do the same. “But you’re welcome.” Dani looked over at her. “Take my number, that way if you run into any shit again, you know--” She shrugged, “you can call me for help.” She didn’t want to be a hunter for hire, or a hero for hire, but it was clear that this girl was going to have steady nightmares about this for weeks, or months to come. 

“Even if they do, how is anyone supposed to parse out the correct information?” Bex asked back, taking the napkins Dani dropped in her lap and putting them against her neck. She bruised easily, and as well as all of that, she always bled a lot. Something to do with her thin blood or something like that. She hadn’t bothered listening when the doctor’s told her. Now, she wished she had. “Okay...maybe more than dangerous. Deadly? I guess this...explains the high death rate.” Why did anyone live here? She ruffled her nose. Why did her family want to live here? And for so long? It seemed strange. None of them had ever gone missing or been killed by strange circumstances. Maybe it was because they simply stayed out of the way. Her parents were very good at ignoring those in need.  “How many vampires are there? Are there like...a lot? Do I need to be worried about walking home at night now?” God, that sounded like a nightmare. Just another thing to add to her growing list. She sighed, pulling the now soaked napkin away and grabbing another. She was beginning to feel dizzy. “I mean, I’ll take it, but I’m sure you saw how handy my phone was. And now the screen is broken, too.” She frowned down at the shattered screen. She was beginning to hate this pattern of things that were happening to her. “Sorry I’m bleeding all over your car. I can pay to have it cleaned.”

“It’d be a lot higher if it weren’t for--” She looked out the window of her truck and flipped off the prius that had tried to cut in front of her, then turned her attention back to Bex, “you know, people who protect other people.” She wasn’t about to dive into the mechanics of hunters, and though Dani was sure this girl was human, there was definitely something different about her. The splintered fence posts came to mind as she pulled down the street. One of the many advantages that Dani had was that she knew where everything was. For the most part, at least. Dani glanced over at Bex again and let out a short laugh, but nothing was funny about her question. “If I knew, I think I’d be sick.” Dani continued to drive, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, “there are more than even I know about I’m sure.” She quirked her lips to the side, then looked down at her lap as her own phone flashed a text message her way. “Huh?” Dania asked as she looked back over at Bex again, “nah, you’re fine-- do you see that stain there?” She pointed towards where Bex’s feet were, “I once lost an ounce-- I think they said, just right there.” She grinned widely before she took another turn. 

Bex couldn’t help but think of what Adam had said, that his family had been protectors since the beginning of humanity. Was Dani’s family like that, too? She kept her mouth shut, though, because it seemed as if the other girl didn’t want to talk about it. She jumped a little at the laugh, looking over at the other girl in confusion. She hadn’t thought something like that would be funny, but she truly was out of her depth here. But how was she supposed to know? She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, making sure to not touch her still bloody palm. Morgan would be so upset-- no, not upset. Worried. She looked down at her palm again, then to the floor where Dani pointed, lifting up her feet. She felt a shiver run through her, at the girl’s casualty around her blood loss, around Bex’s. Maybe this wasn’t a world Bex wanted to be a part of. Maybe it was a world she’d never fit into. She swallowed. “So vampires are...if the movies are right, they’re people. Or they...once were. Is that, are they still-- like us?”

Dani had been told by Lauren that she needed to be kind to the people she helped, but Dani had questioned how much more kind could she be past having already saved their lives? As she got older, she began to understand what her mom had meant. Not everyone was aware of the things that she was-- not everyone would deal with it in the same way. She had people go into shock on her, as well as insist on calling the police because she had ‘murdered,’ somebody. Every person Dani saved was different. Bex? Well, she fit into the mold of the usual. Shocked, terrified, unsure of what was around her. Only difference was, she had fences that had splintered around her. “They’re not like us, and anyone who says they are, is a fucking liar.” Dani said it nonchalantly, despite the command in her voice. “That’s how they get you. Some of them are straight up monstrous, like the one that got you.” Dani tapped her finger impatiently on the steering wheel as she pulled up behind another car. “Others act like they have your best interests at heart.” She looked over at Bex. “Just…” It wasn’t like the girl would know what to look for. “Keep alert, y’know?” 

“So,” Bex started, “just practice stranger danger. Got it.” The other girl’s advice wasn’t really helpful. Bex wanted to know how to spot a vampire. What were their natural habitats? Did they actually explode in sunlight? Obviously the blood eating thing was real. Were they all that aggressive? What had made that woman choose Bex? How had she known she was alone in the library? Did they have superstrength, superhearing, supervision? Why were her eyes red? Instead, she just looked over at Dani and furrowed her brows. “Are you a hunter?” she asked, remembering the conversation she’d had with Morgan now that her head was more clear. Well, at least her mind wasn’t panicking anymore, and really, that was the best Bex could ask for right now. If she was lucky, she could slip inside and clean up the wound without anyone seeing. She didn’t need Morgan or Mina worrying over some stupid little incident. “Look, I...might not know everything about this world, but I know some things. Like, that, magic is real. And that there are people who aren’t human. And that there are hunters who think those people are monsters, sometimes. And now, apparently, that vampires are real.”

Dani chewed on the inside of her cheek. She knew that it was up to her so that Bex would never have to worry about the undead, or any other kind of monster, really. The silence that filled the cab made Dani uneasy, but it was Bex’s question that took her by surprise. She shifted in the driver’s seat and put a little too much weight into her foot. Her truck lurched forward and she winced, “sorry.” She quickly restarted her truck and turned, ignoring the sound of a car horn from behind her. “So you know about hunters, but you didn’t know for sure about vampires?” She looked back at Bex, her grin slowly replacing the grim line that had formed. “Of course magic is real,” White Crest was full of magic-- an unexplainable kind. She knew Nell, ever since she was a child, and she knew that Nell had magic. She had been aware of it from the very start. It’d be naive to believe that with the undead, wolves, fae-- anything else, that magic would not be real-- all of it, after all, was some kind of magic. “So,” Dani said as she finally pulled down the destination street, “you believed in all of that from the get go…” She let out another laugh, this time less sarcastic. She looked for the correct address, and when she finally pulled in front of the house, she cut the engine. She looked past Bex towards the house and began to speak, “carry garlic, some holy water, and some wood if you really want to make yourself feel better.” She looked back at Bex with a small smile, “and obviously you can call me if you get yourself into any other situations.” 

“To be fair,” Bex started, “I literally just learned about hunters the other day.” That was an entirely different situation for Bex to stress over. “And, I don’t know...who’s to say what’s real or not? How am I supposed to know? No one taught me anything about this. I’m pretty sure my parents specifically kept me away from all of this.” Like they were hiding her, or maybe hiding her from this world. She glanced over at Dani as she declared magic was real as if this fact was just normal and true for anyone and everyone. A casual reminder of what Bex had been deprived of her entire life. She replaced the napkin on her neck again-- at least the bleeding was slowing now. “I don’t know what I believe, really. But it’s kind of hard not to believe in things when they, well--” she shrugged, wincing, “for lack of a better phrase, bite you in the neck.” Bex turned to follow Dani’s gaze up the drive to see Morgan’s house, a few lights glowing on in the bedrooms. She chewed her lip. “Garlic? Seriously? That works?” She let out a long breath, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. Turned to glance at Dani one last time. “Um...thank you. I uh-- don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about you. I know it can be dangerous.” She rubbed her palms. “I would shake your hand, but--” held up her hands and stiffly wiggled her fingers. “If there’s any way I can repay you, though, just lemme know.” She opened the car door and slid out stiffly, grabbing her bag and her broken phone. “It was nice to meet you, Dani. Even if uh-- circumstances weren’t great. I hope your ribs are okay.”

Logically, Dani knew that Bex was right-- if she had just been learning about all of this, the probability of her knowing vampires were real was slim. Still, it was her own duty to ensure that people were aware-- maybe not of the specifics, but that they weren’t alone. She wasn’t about to go into the other creatures who frolicked around White Crest, as if it were their own, personal playground. “So if your parents know, then…” She looked at Bex, wondering if she had been right to believe that the girl was a witch. “Well, you know now, so…” Dani flexed her fingers against her steering wheel. The adrenaline from her fight was slowly dissipating and the ache in her bones was loud, right down to her finger pads. “Garlic does work, yes.” Not against zombies, though. She’d save that for later. She looked from the dead clock on her dashboard, back to Bex. “Don’t even worry about it, Bex.” She smiled at her, “nice to meet you too-- just… try not to make this a common occurrence.” She turned the truck on once Bex was out. “Let me know if you need anything, you can find me online.” She waited until Bex was safely inside before she drove away. The question of how Bex had been introduced to her world played around in her head. The split fences came to mind. Yeah, there was no way that girl was simply normal. 

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: dani #slayer? i hardly know her #dani #domestic abuse mention tw

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

To start this off this HTTYD WHUMP Collection, I'm taking inspiration from a whumptober list and the second on the list was Gutspill and I had a fucking brainstorm (do mind my french, I swear like a sailor and a trooper, I'm also British). I wrote this five days ago and finished it, but as I was highlighting it so I could copy it to move here, I accidentally deleted half of it so... after my five-day meltdown, I've finally finished it and I think I turned out even better than it did the first time. I hope you have a box of kleenex or whatever tissue brand you have in your country, this one is a corker.

(you can also find my works on my archive of our own, name in profile)

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There is blood everywhere. It's on his hands, on his face, on his sword, the world has become a thing of blood and ash, they clog up his lungs and he's choking on it. But his blood, it boils in his veins like water over fire and his heart pumps it hard throughout his body, hungry and starved for flesh, for death. Snotlout is a warrior, born and bred, and there is a mercifulness inside him that has long kept this beast at bay. But today, on this battlefield where mercy leaves you dead, he can let the starved beast writhing in his chest out and allow it to sate its hunger. Just for today, just for one day, he'll be an animal.

The shores of Berk are red with blood and will be for days afterwards. The bodies, broken and bloodied, add a layer onto the sand like a second crust, piling upon each other and almost looking like some gruesome, horrible beast that stretches on for miles. Those muddy, grasping hands, those black, gaping maws, those dead, dead eyes. The sky is terribly blue and dragons soar down with fire in the chests, spewing it across the enemy like they are wild monsters again, like they've forgotten kindness.

Today, everyone has forgotten the tenderness of mercy.

Snotlout slashes his sword across a man's chest and blood sprays across his face. The enemy falls onto one knee with a cry and lifts his mace to retaliate, but he's too slow to stop the blade from plunging into his stomach. Through the slits of the enemy's helmet, Snotlout notices that his eyes are green and, before he dies, that they are full of fear. Those eyes will haunt him tonight, but today there is no compassion in his heart for those who dare to threaten his home.

Pulling his sword from the corpse, he looks in awe at how it steams from fresh blood. Snotlout's face is hot with blood that is not his own and he can taste it on his teeth, a coppery wash on his tongue. Blood tastes like lightning. Two men try to rush him, but he cuts one down with a swipe to his legs and the other he grasps by the neck, headbutting him angrily. He drops the unconscious enemy and impales the floored man through the back. More blood, but it's not enough the please the hungry thing inside him.

He hears a mighty battle cry and turns to see Ruffnut, braids matted with blood and bleeding from both nostrils, she looks wild like a creature. She feels it too, she's also got a hungry beast inside her, she's also been starved of blood. She grabs a man, pulls his back to her chest and slices his throat with a smile some would say is mad. Today, we are all mad, mad things are best at killing.

Tuffnut is not far from her and he's swinging in circles, fatally hitting anyone brave (or stupid) enough to get close to him. Snotlout watches Ruffnut kill again, and he's falling in love with her all over again as she buries her dagger to the hilt into a man's eye. He screams. She laughs and slices his throat too. Her face and chest are washed with blood from his squirting neck.

They catch each other's' gaze and, just for a moment, the starved monsters crawl back into the darkest corners of their hearts to allow the tenderness to come back. Ruffnut's eyes soften, those thunderstorm eyes lose their madness and gaze deep into Snotlout, conveying all the words that they both struggle to say. He lets out a short, breathy exhale because, Gods, she is so beautiful, she must be from a dream.

Suddenly, Tuffnut is in the picture and he looks both disgusted and displeased.

"Uh, guys, big battle happening all around you," Tuffnut yells over the sound of war, gesturing around him with a blood-caked Macey II, "don't think this is an appropriate time to be making-love via eye-contact,"

An axe-wielding enemy charges towards Tuff and Ruff from behind. But before Snotlout can even open his mouth to warn them, Ruffnut throws her arm back and the man goes down hard and fast, a dagger lodged in his throat. Oh, by Freyja, he loves her so much. Ruffnut gives him a smirk, sharp and deadly, before charging away with a dragon-roar cry.

"See you on the other side, Princess!" Snotlout shouts and then the beast lunges out from the shadows of his aortas, he's back to being an animal again and races deeper into the battlefield.

His eyes catch sight of a monstrous opponent. The Commander. He's tall and wide, built like a mountain, decked out in black, hateful-looking armour and he's pulling his sword from the chest of a Berkian shield-maiden. Snotlout doesn't recognise her, almost mistakes her for Astrid from her blonde hair, but she's far too young, far too small, far too innocent to be here. Doesn't matter now, she's dead and being carried away on the backs of Valkyries to Valhalla. Still, she was too young.

Then, the all too familiar sonic-whistle fills the air and he watches the Commander look to the sky.

"NIGHT FURY!" A man distantly warns. Everyone ducks to the ground in fear. Snotlout remains standing. So does the Commander.

There's only a flash of Toothless, a black dart across the pale sky before a purple blast dives to the battlefield. The explosion is bright and blinding behind the dark silhouette of the Commander and a shockwave sends those already crouched down to the sand, but still he remains standing, unyielding. Snotlout also stands, unbowed.

His ears are ringing from the explosion but there's an anger in his chest, building and building and building, soon its going burst out of his chest. Warriors lay around them, disorientated and directionless, and the Commander turns to him, his only worthy opponent. Snotlout breaths violently through his nose, a deep rage coursing through his blood like a forest fire and there is nothing that will stop the inferno in him. His entire body is shaking, like a dragon ready to take flight. Gods, if he was a dragon; the world would be ashes at his feet.

For a moment, they size each other up. Dragon-fire reflects of the Commander's black armour and Snotlout's blade of steel becomes a spine of flames. Everything in his life has been leading up to this moment, this moment which will change the course of his life forever, this is what the Fates have planned for him. Prove your worth, Dragon-Rider, Fire-Swallower, prove your worth to the ones who believe you to be nothing.

Snotlout closes his eyes and wraps both of his trembling hands around the hilt of his sword. The sounds of battle are distant and his heartbeat pulses in his ear like a war drum. This is it. Let the beast free, let it out the cage, let it off the chain. Let it kill them all.

Snotlout opens his eyes and that unbridled rage comes forth in the form of a thunderous howl, tearing through his throat. He runs towards what could be his beginning or his end, either will be fine but he'll die proving he's something, something fierce, something brave, something worthy. The Commander too starts to run, charging towards him with his blood-shining sword and he's silent like death, his eyes shimmering like stolen sapphires beneath his helmet.

And as they get closer, Snotlout raises his sword into the blood-thick air and again roars his worth for all to here, a stream of fire bursting like dying stars behind him.

But the beast is a primal thing, while the Commander is a calculating thing, silent and cunning; Beasts are sometimes made to be fools in their wrath.

And as Snotlout brings his blade down for the kill, the Commander falls and skids across the sand, kicking it up to momentarily blind him. It takes him a moment too late to realise the grave, fatal mistake he has made.

As the Commander slides past Snotlout, he slashes his sword across his gut and the terrible feeling of his skin and flesh being carved open makes him halt on the spot. His ears are ringing again and there isn't even pain, there is just a hotness in his gut and the vague feeling of something slipping, he doesn't understand what's happening. Dropping his sword, he stares wide-eyed into the distant and gasps for breath, it feels like he's been hit in the chest with a war hammer.

Over the ringing in his ears, Snotlout hears the movement of feet disturbing stand and the whistling sound of a sword cutting through the air. In the distance, far away, he hears a woman screaming in despair. He thinks it might be Ruffnut.

That primal beast wakes up again and he isn't even thinking when he turns around, hands up ready to catch something. The blade of a sword falls into his grasp and it cuts through his leather gloves, digging deep into his palms as he pushes the sword from his face. He bares his bloodied teeth like a cornered animal and stares deep into the eyes behind the helmet, blue and angry and hateful; they gaze back.

He's going to die, oh that's okay, but by the Gods is he taking this bastard with him.

Snotlout releases one hand to immediately grasp at the Commander's armoured wrist. The blade digs further into his hand, hot blood tracks down his arm. It is only due to the rage and adrenaline burning through him that allows Snotlout to twist the Enemy's hand till it near breaks before dislodging the sword from the cursing man and, as quick as lighting, he wraps his fingers around the hilt and does a half turn.

The sword is plunged deep into the Commander's stomach. Snotlout lets go of the stolen sword and allows it to fall with its owner behind him. He smells blood and ash, tastes it too. Gods, he's choking on HIS blood and he doesn't know what to do. Looking down to his stomach, Snotlout is full of horror as he sees his guts partially hanging out of the slice in his belly. He touches them with his hands and they come away red, hot, steaming.

"The Commander is dead!" Someone cries, "Retreat! Back to the boats!" Others chime.

Snotlout falls to the bloody-encrusted shore on his back and stares up the terribly blue sky, disturbed only by dark rising smoke and the shadows of retreating men that leap over his body. His breath is loud in his ears and he can feel the blood pouring from him, soaking into his tunic and running down his sides to stain the sand beneath him. There should be fear in his heart, but he can only find the sweetness of victory, the relief that the battle is over and they came out the victors.

A body skids beside him and he looks up to see Ruffnut, eyes white and wide with fear as she stares at his stomach, at the blood that pours and oozes, a never-ending river draining from his body. The tide will come in soon and wash it all away. Maybe it'll take his body too, the sea stealing him away and dragging him to the ends of the Earth, it sounds like a peaceful end.

"Gods, you idiot, what have you done?" She whispers, voice raw from screaming, from terror, and he watches in a dull sort of morbid curiosity as she pushes the exposed intestines back inside him.

The pain is suddenly everywhere as his cut flesh is disturbed and his body goes into spasms, agony setting his nerves ablaze and making tears sprout in his eyes as he shakes his head side to side. Snotlout lets out a broken scream, by Gods, won't he just die already. When the torment simmers down, he opens his watery eyes to see Hiccup knelt opposite Ruffnut, his hands using the fabric of one of Toothless' spare tails to stem the bleeding as he shouts orders to people. ("We need Gothi here! Now please!")

"Did we win?" He croaks stupidly, because he knows that they have but he wants to here it, wants to make sure it wasn't some illusion from his deluded mind.

Hiccup snaps his head to him and those green eyes are vast with panic and dread, but still a smile cracks across his cousin's face as his trembling hands are stained with his blood, stark against his pale skin.

"Yes, we won," Hiccup breathes, then swallows, "Thanks to you, Lout, we won and they won't be coming back, you did great, you were amazing! And you have to keep being amazing now, okay? You have to stay awake, just for a bit longer,"

"I-I don't think-" Another bout of pain, another agonized yell.

Ruffnut pauses for a brief moment, her hands hovering over his gut as she looks at him with anxious eyes, but she's an experienced healer and knows that the more time she wastes, the more blood he loses. The higher the chance she has of losing him. She continues to cut open his tunic so she can start to bandage him up. Snotlout recovers and regains his breath, body sweating and shivering from the pain.

"I don't think you can fix this," He whispers honestly, because there is so much blood and he feels so tired, Gods, there's a hole in him and it won't stop bleeding.

The sun is starting to set and the stars are faintly beginning to shine in the darkening sky, it's making everything feel like a dream, nothing feels real. Hiccup stares at him with low brows and a firm face before he replies, determination shimmering in his eyes as he looks back down at the blood-sodden fabric in his hands.

"Of course, I can,"

Ruffnut and Hiccup briefly share a look over Snotlout's bleeding body, she can see the dread beneath his determination, she can see his doubt. So can Snotlout.

"Where is he? Where's Snotlout?!" Comes a harsh, familiar voice and Snotlout watches as his dad pushes through the crowd circled around him, Chief Stoick and Gobber close behind him.

His dad pauses at the sight of him, dulled eyes glazing over as his chest expands with his shocked inhale, his axe slipping from his loose-fingered hand as he crumbles to the sand, crawling over to him. Snotlout has never seen this look on his dad before, never seen him broken like this, and it's making him realise how bad of a state he is in, how a jaded warrior like Spitelout can be brought to his knees just by the sight of him.

"Dad," Snotlout says quietly, he has never felt so relieved to see his dad in his life.

"I'm here, boyo, I'm here," His dad answers as he sooths his scarred hand over Snotlout's head, pushing away stray strands of blood-slick hair with a tenderness he has never shown to possess. (Spitelout lost all his kindness when his wife died, she took his heart with her)

"I'm sorry, my boy," He whispers, voiced choked from the sobs lodged in his throat, his other hand coming down to rest against Snotlout's jaw, "I've been a cruel man to you and I know-"

"Dad-" Snotlout interrupts, not wanting to hear his father's regrets because he can see them in his pale eyes, writhing around like trapped birds begging to get out. His dad, unsurprisingly, doesn't listen.

"I know it's too late now, but- But I don't want you going believing that I wasn't proud of you," And Snotlout gasps shakily at those words because that is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? His dad's acceptance, the knowledge that he wasn't some burden, that he was loved, "because I am, Snotlout, I am SO proud of the man you've become, a man I could only dream of being,"

Tears drip from his dad's eyelashes and the wetness that's gathered in Snotlout's eyes finally break over, pouring down the side of his face as his throat tightens up. He can feel Ruffnut swathing bandages aground his abdomen, the terrible pain nothing compared to the relief in his heart that if he dies today, he dies with everything he's ever wanted. He'll die like how good men should; worthy, accepted, loved.

"I'm not scared, dad, I'm- I'm not scared," Snotlout reassures, voice tight as more tears spill over, he needs his dad, everyone, to know that he's no afraid of dying, "I'm not afraid anymore,"

His dad smiles with quivering lips and lowers down to press his forehead against Snotlout's, he closes his eyes and he feels like a child, protected in his father's embrace, calloused hands cradling his jaw and head. This is goodbye and Snotlout only feels like he's just got his dad. But it doesn't matter, at some point in his life, his dad was proud of him and this small moment is enough. His dad presses a kiss to his head.

"I'm proud to call you my son," He whispers against his blood-caked skin and suddenly Snotlout knows what it is to be a son, knows what it is to be whole.

With hands hesitant to let go, Spitelout stands and stumbles backwards from his son, not daring to take his eyes off him. Stoick wraps a comforting arm around his back and takes hold of his bicep, squeezing it sympathetically.

Snotlout can see the others standing there too, watching him die. Astrid has her shaking hands over her mouth and tears streak through the grime on her cheeks, he hates that he's caused that strong woman so much grief. Besides her, Fishlegs stands with his war hammer clutched in his grasp like it's the only thing keeping him from falling apart, his face taut with sorrow and sadness. Tuffnut has his arms thrown up over his head and his teeth are bared in anguish, staring between Ruffnut and his broken body as his tears fall, gathering along his jaw.

He wants to apologies, but he feels so weak. It's nearly time to go.

Hiccup is still, sat back on his ankles with a despondent and grief-stricken look on his face as he watches Ruffnut securing his bandages, adding more layers as more blood seeps through, her hands frantic in their movement. And Snotlout thought he was the stubborn one, surely, she can see he's times up.

"Ruff-" Hiccup starts with a sob-choked voice but Ruffnut is shaking her head feverishly, face full of denial.

"No, we just need to get him out of here to Gothi's, she'll stitch him up and he'll be fine-"

"Sis-" Tuffnut steps forward, trying to reason with her.

"HE'LL BE FINE!" Her scream echoes around them all and it's so ferocious, so heartbroken, so desperate, he swears the stars will fall upon them.

Taken aback by the savageness in her eyes, Tuffnut quickly steps back and Ruffnut goes back to fussing with bandages, drawing more out from a compartment in her side armour so she can stem the flow. It won't work, he's lost too much blood. Snotlout know it, she knows it. He's too tired to do much, but he has to make her understand that this is it for them and he doesn't want to die without telling her.

With what little strength he has, he raises his hand and cards his hands into her hair, the part he's latched onto is silky smooth and free of blood, pure. Tugging her braid, Ruffnut turns to look at him, her wet eyes are wild with grief and anger and her lips are curled into a snarl tight with both sadness and rage.

"Don't," She growls, voice wavering, grabbing his hand to pull it away as she looks back to the already soaked through bandages, but he hasn't long left and he wants her to know, needs her to know, he needs to say it one last time.

Snotlout takes her hand into his and rubs his thumb over her bleeding knuckles with a tenderness that aches deep inside him, Ruffnut pauses and turns her head to him, looking hopeless and afraid.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," He breathes repeatedly, his mind is going dizzy but he doesn't need to think, he just needs to feel and the words come out on their own, drenched in his love and adoration for her, "Ruffnut, I love you, I love you, I love you, only you,"

With her head tilting, the tears dribble down her blood-slick face and over her trembling lips as she finally understands that this is it, sobs racking her body as she crawls swiftly over to him. They kiss because it's the last time they will hold each other again and it feels like freedom, feels like coming home. He touches her face gently, branding her eyes, her lips, her hair to his memory in hopes that he keeps it when he goes. If he can't live without her in life, he can't live without in death.

"Snotlout," Ruffnut begs with a keen, her quaking hand weaving through his hair, and he smiles at her, his hand falling from her face.

"It's okay, Princess... you can let me go," He murmurs softly.

Gods, he's going to miss seeing her in the morning, going to miss her barking laugh, going to miss the feeling of her hair in his hands as he braids her hair. He's going to miss her so much; he'll die again in Valhalla from the pain her absence.

"I don't want to," She weeps, shaking her head, cradling his face in her hands, "I don't want to let you go, Mutton-head, don't you get that? I can't!"

"You ca-can," He cracks, tears mixing with blood on his face, and he squeezes her hand, "Let me go,"

And with that, she slips her hand from his. She's taken the first step, she has to do the rest on her own now.

Suddenly, the sky is trembling with a roar and the Earth shudders as Hookfang lands upon the battlefield.

The Dragon's hide ignites when he sees his Rider and he kicks up bloodied sand as he races over to Snotlout, warriors scrambling out of the beasts frenzied path less they be trampled. Hookfang comes to him with alarmed noises in the back of his throat as he dances lightly around his Rider, a dreadful look in his eyes as he tries to find out what's wrong with him. When he sees the blood, an awfully sad wail leaps from his maw and his flames die out. Gods, Hookfang already looks sodden with grief.

"Hooky," Snotlout murmurs tiredly and he turns his head to look at him, his fire-streaked eyes are slitted in horror and with a desperate whine, digs his snout under the Rider's arm before lifting it up, but it falls limply back to the sand.

Get up, Hookfang is begging him, get up, get up, let's go home now.

"I'm sorry, Hooky," Snotlout apologises brokenly, shaking his head, "I can't,"

The Nightmare tenderly nudges his muzzle against Snotlout's red cheek with a guttural purr, the familiar warmth of his scales helps to ease his hurting heart. He lifts his head and again stares at Snotlout with that look, asking him to come home. Snotlout softly shakes his head, blinking away tears so his vision isn't blurry. This is the last time he's going to see his best friend; he can't waste a single second. After a moment, the desperation in Hookfang's eyes morphs into acceptance.

Weakly, Snotlout lifts his hand and holds it out to Hookfang, too exhausted to stretch it out any further, but his friend understands and meets him halfway. Gods, it's like the first time they touched all over again and there is a deep grief in his heart, he's never going to touch Hookfang again, he's never going to fly again. He'll fly with the Valkyries, but he'd choose Hookfang over them any day. He'd chose dragons wings over honour any day.

"You're my best friend," He says softly and in Hookfang's eyes, he sees himself. He doesn't have to say more, doesn't have to pour his heart out his mouth for Hookfang to understand, he just has to look at him and it's enough.

Looking to the sky, he feels his heartbeat slowing, feels very tired.

"Thank you," He breathes weakly and closes his eyes.

Snotlout's palm slips from Hookfang's muzzle, fingertips dragging against the scales like they don't want to let go before they fall, and his hand hits the sand with a sense of finality.

#how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon fanfic #rufflout #WHUMP #snotlout whump #snotlout #ruffnut

[eagesoldartblog]

Heyooo I guess im posting fics to tumblr again- I hope you enjoy!!! Warning: detailed impalement, massive injuries, I mean MASSIVE, graphic descriptions of violence and near death experinces

Vivi’s Scar

“Hey Vivi,” She perks up, twisting her head away from her beach bag full of towels to Arthur, who was ... staring at her. He palms the back of his neck awkwardly, before pointing at her stomach, “so... sorry if this is weird but... what’s with the tattoo?”

“Tattoo?” Vivi says, raising an eyebrow, before she looks at her arms curiously, taking note of the small decals she dedicated to her two friends, “Which?”

“The one one your .. chest.”

“Huh?” Bewildered, Vivi looks down, before it hits her, “Ohh... I see what you mean.”

“Yea! I figured I - you know what, uh... what’s with it?” Arthur asks, brushing his hair back lamely and shifting on his feet as he comes closer to get a better look.

Vivi snickers, “it’s not a tattoo. It’s a scar.”

“... What?” Arthur lightly touches his own shoulder, which was scarred to hell and back itself, before looking at hers again.

“Yeah!” Vivi stretches her torso, and traces her finger down it, “don’t get me wrong, I get why you think that!”

It’s a large scar full of texture, appearing like a fat slithering snake was making a large S. The edges appeared white while the rest of the body became discolored, edging on gray. It starts around her belly button and then curves up her right breast. It was more than obvious now that she wore a bikini since it revealed the full extent of it. The thought made her grin a little bit. “I got it when I was a kid. Don’t remember how though, if I’m honest.”

“How do you not remember getting a scar?”

She shrugs, “My mom told me that I went missing one day, and when I came back, I had this wacky scar and some broken limbs. Fun stuff!” She laughs lightly, as if it wasn’t a big deal, before she returns to double checking the bag for the sunscreen. 

Arthur appears around her shoulder, craning his neck to look at it. Vivi smirks, and grabs his wrist.

“Wanna touch it?”

“Ah-! I- huh?”

“I mean you keep staring at it! And I’ll tell you what, it does feel kinda weird.”

Arthur jerks his hand away and sputters, blushing lightly, “No-nonono, that’s- uh... it just looks like- I don’t know, a carving? Kinda like when you burn designs into wood.” 

”Pyrography?” Lewis offers, peaking into the room with a cooler. 

Arthur snaps his fingers and nods, “Yes! That. It looks... like that?”

Vivi snickers again, “well thank you for calling me a piece of art~”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.”

“How can I not?” Vivi bites her lip to avoid laughing more than she wanted to, “I know how much you two look at me~”

”Just as much as you look in the mirror?”

“Okay, fuck you, Lewis.”

The three laugh amongst themselves, Mystery couldn’t help but smile himself. Only for that smile to fade as he averts his gaze.

If only she knew.

-

The trees towered above her head, and the sweet earthy grass beckoned her in. Never willing to miss a chance on adventure, Vivi sprints through the canopy, with her trusty ‘sword’ in hand. It’s wooden bark has long since stripped away, but the stick was as sturdy as can be.

And to prove it, Vivi spots a spindly tree with a burl sticking out, and she wallops its side. The hefty crack vibrating through her arm and sending thrills down her back. How could it not? 

Vivi was a strong, powerful warrior, taking after a legacy of even more powerful warriors. A long list of samurai, rōnin, onna-musha, and yokai hunters. At the very highest, one of the most well known and revered, Mushi Yukino.

Vivi’s heart flutters, her stomach twists, as she imagines the woman, surrounded by hundreds of monsters and serpents, in between her and the legendary kitsune who she dominated and harnessed. So strong and powerful, the kitsune had no choice but to submit. They had to join the yukino family and protect her descendants!

Vivi giggles, abandoning the beaten tree and leaping through another bush. 

I’m going to be the next! Vivi laughs full heartedly, hooking her sword around a tree branch and swinging her feet as she lands. Taking off in a new direction.

As far away as possible from home. Okkasan and Otousan would be furious if they knew she went out this far. Vivi didn’t particularly care. It was her break from her studies, and her otousan let her have some time to play after a lengthy English lesson. 

But why would she just play in the court, when she could train in her natural element? 

A few mountains peak through the trees, and Vivi’s eyes crinkle as the scent of the caves and stones called to her. Only for her to dig her heel into the ground.

The mountain stands before her, tall and unyielding...  She can’t climb! Not yet... Vivi gulps apprehensively, stomach souring as her hands become clammy around her sword. Baba told her time and time again to be wary in the forests.

Pay respect, and it will respect you. But by all means, don’t go on your own.

Vivi shudders lightly, eyebrows furrowing. 

She’ll never become like the greatest monster Hunter of her family if she never learns to climb!

So...! She’ll just have to get over it!

Steeling herself, Vivi turns her head up and stares at the tree beside her.

It’s towering over her, with many branches sticking out from it. Surrounding the tree, was a few considerably smaller ones, with lush greens that nearly made it impossible to see through.

Perfect! She grins, and sets off through the bushes that also surround the tree. One bush was filled with many shiny scarlet berries. 

Vivi paid it no mind. She’s seen weirder.

-

Not far off, a white rabbit watches. The fur along its back prickling, ears straight and alert, and the urge to thump and scream intense. It leaps after her.

-

Balancing her sword against the bark, Vivi stares at the tree and bites her lip. Beads of sweat were already beginning to trace her forehead, even if it was near freezing. There were a few bumps and ridges that jut out. Looking stable. Then again... it could easily drop her if she puts too much trust in it...

Oh well! Vivi sucks in her breath and grasps one of the ridges. Much to her delight, it’s easy to hold onto, and she hurriedly grabs the next.

It scratches her palms and fingers. They're going to be really mad at her when they see her sore palms. Vivi puffs, shooing the thought away as she hooks her foot along the bark and pushes herself up. 

“I-I knew it! This isn’t so hard...!” Vivi hisses through her teeth, biceps trembling as she hangs there and traces her foot for a previous bump to stand on. Then again, and again, and Vivi could see the trees surrounding this one from a brand new angle the higher she got.

-

The rabbit runs faster. Squeaking now. Thumping their hind legs on the ground and jumping against the trees to leap faster and get to her quicker. Vivi doesn’t notice.

-

Vivi climbs another few steps, dragging her front against the harsh bark. It scraps against her harshly. Even if her sweater blocked her skin, pins and needles and a red rash undoubtedly began to form. Vivi shifts uncomfortably, eyebrows furrowing together. 

Is it a poison tree? Is that a thing? Vivi gulps, the sweat along her forehead dampening her hair and her hands became slick with that same anxiety. 

The higher and higher she got, the more the tree felt like it swayed. Vivi took a deep breath, and the tree seemed to breath with her, expanding outward until she was nearly hugging it. The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand. A gust of wind pushing past her. Vivi dared a look - and saw that she was now high in the air, above the other surrounding trees and bushes. A sense of terror grew in her stomach as her thoughts filled with the image and sensation of falling-!

“It’s fine... it’s fine...” she hums to herself, forcing her smile to stay put as she reaches for another ridge- one that’s curved and slanted in an odd way that she couldn’t describe at first. 

Just keep climbing. Just keep climbing…

She felt... small. Her limbs start to ache. The air around her seemed to thicken and no matter how much she gasped, the air refused to fill her lungs. None was getting in.

Was something watching her?

”VIVI!”

Otousan? Gasping, Vivi’s entire body seizes up. Her grip on the tree began to wane, but Vivi twists her head around to peer at the ground. The… really far ground... 

No one was there.. Maybe it was just her imagination...?

Ragged, Vivi slows her breathing, and looks back to her hands and the tree.

Only for the curved ridge she was preparing to latch onto pops open. 

Vivi’s heart stops.

An eye. A deep hole like-eye with something red glowing behind the ridges- the eyelids. 

Then several more eyes open. All the other bumps above her opening to reveal angry, intense eyes. 

Vivi didn’t make a sound. 

But that didn’t matter. A creaking, cracking whine fills her ears, all the branches moving like arms. She dares a look as something seems to move in front of her stomach. 

The bark expands- bubbles- in front of her body. A branch shoots out.

Stabbing through her feeble skin. Stabbing past her spine and tearing through her torso like a toothpick. It keeps growing. Despite being impaled, it keeps growing. Sending Vivi out to dangle by her ribs around the wooden arm. Her eyes sting, feeling escaping her as she watches it all in shock. 

The tree holds her at the branch's length. She could only stare in horror as the new branch’s base splinters and creaks. Cracking.

And it snaps off.

A scream fills the air as she and the branch fall.

It’s her own.

The trees spike past her like streamers and fireworks, and as Vivi suddenly slammed against something, they explode in an eruption of different light. All behind her own eyelids. Where tears stung and her body sat numbly.

Numb. For maybe a second. Before she tried to breathe and her lungs constricted around the branch lodged through her. The narrow, bloodsoaked tip had snapped on impact. Her body sagged down on the broken pieces. Shooting pins and needles in every muscle that wasn’t already screaming.

A slickness soaked her belly. Her arms. Vivi couldn’t move. Stuck with the large branch stabbed into her like a knife.

Her throat strains. Rips. She was still screaming. Even as her mouth filled with copper and blood.

Her vision goes dark. She didn’t stop crying.

-

The rabbit races over, a growl ripping from it’s too small body as a new form rips out of its fur. Large fluffy paws become vicious claws, and a pointed mouth of teeth snap threateningly as eight tails thrash out.

“You bastard!” Mystery barks, glaring at the tree mimic with fury burning in every part of him. 

It’s many eyes blink as it unroots it’s many decoy trees, becoming sharp appendages. The scarlet berry bush shifting to his underbelly.

“What?” It hisses, “Angry because I caught your prey? You should know better than to claim what you haven’t properly snatched. This territory is free for all of us to hun-“

Mystery growls, a scream building in his throat. The mimic’s leaves recoil. Before it has the chance to flare out fully and unleash its storm of pine  needles, -Mystery pounces. 

Lunging past the barrage of needles, Mystery dives directly into the berry bush with jagged teeth. Digging his teeth in despite the horrified resound of screeching from the mimic. Mystery clamps his jaw on the one part that mattered most. 

It’s heart.

Lurching back, mystery tears the heart from its roots. The mimic’s life force began to drain instantly into the soil, enriching it with blood. But Mystery doesn’t stop there. He clenches his teeth shut, and the fruity heart bursts down his throat, coating it in a sickly spicy flavor. 

The mimic falls quiet, eyes shutting, and with nothing left to keep it up, the tree whines and creaks.

Crashing down, unrooting the earth where the roots sat.

Spitting, Mystery sends one final curse, before quiet sobbing takes hold of his heart.

Horrified, Mystery holds his breath and rushes to Vivi’s side. 

The branch that impaled her was beginning to shrink and curl, but the gaping wound was immeasurable.

Guilt and pain overwhelms his mind. Several apologies drown  his mind. 

“No! Vivi my dear, can you hear me? Please if you can, hold on as long as possible.” He begs, scanning her small, frail body one more time.

The effects of her lineage were already taking effect. Ice particles flaking off her uncovered skin, and frost attempting to stop the flow of steaming blood. Vivi’s eyes were wide open, blackened and becoming blue. The last line of preserving herself, if she knew it or not.

Mystery grits his teeth, and a flicker of a memory fills his mind.

His only daughter.. It worked for her... Yes. Yes, perhaps this may work!

He swallows back the sickly bile, and Mystery twists his head around, teeth catching on one of his eight tails.

And just like the mimic’s heart- Mystery rips the tail from its socket. Despite the pain that already threatened to crumple him, he drapes it against Vivi’s chest.

Dropping his head low, he presses his muzzle to her head, and whispers.

”My dear, Vivi. I swore an oath to do everything I can to protect you. I know we are forbidden to meet, but I care for you like everyone that came previous. I will ensure your safety. That is a promise.”

Her irises begin to glow, deep icy pits shining with golden light.

”Allow me to grant you a second chance, abilities beyond your own. To heal, to hide, and to live. Allow me this, and I promise I’ll ensure you won’t need any more.”

He kisses her head. And her body glows.

-

Katsumi sweeps through the house within minutes, annoyance bubbling in her chest as she clenches her hand. In her grasp and tightly held against her chest, was her granddaughter’s scarf. In the process of being lengthened for her upcoming eleventh birthday.

And just like she feared. Vivi was nowhere to be found. Eyes and nose scrunching with a hate filled grimace, she marches back to the main entrance. 

“Can’t believe this,” she croaks, imagining her son’s face when she undoubtedly wallops him. “Letting her run outside on her own...! Why do I bother helping him when he throws it so far to the wayside..!” 

Her son and his wife, Clara, were out of the house and were searching.

Are they not aware of how she is? Always running amok and getting into trouble with the neighbors and disturbing the guardians and kami who linger.

She nearly growls as the sound of Clara’s wind chimes. The noise breaks her concentration and worsens her growing headache. 

Where on earth was Yatamo? Have they really not found her yet-

There’s a knock at the door. Katsumi freezes, her eyes widening as spiritual energy flows into the home. A familiar one too.

You...

Gripping her staff, Katsumi moves quick and steady, and if she willed it, frost would fill the windows to show that he wasn’t welcome.

But the chance that he has Vivi... she can’t risk it.

Swallowing, Katsumi grabs the doorknob and opens it.

Her glare immediately gives way to horror.

An elderly man in a kimono and haori stood before her. With thin arms and even thinner cheeks. Despite the frail appearance, he cradled Vivi close to his chest, with nothing but sorrow in his face.

His tail peaks out from between his feet, and he bows solemnly.

“I apologize for this meeting, Katsumi.”

“What have you done to her?” Katsumi lunges forward and unhooks Vivi from his grasp. Vivi’s entire body was coated in blood, her skin cold and cracking. “What did you do to her-?” Katsumi demands again, tears welling in her eyes as she glares accusingly at him. The kitsune frowns, and stands straight. 

“I swore an oath to protect my descendants-“

“She isn’t your descendant!” She says, stomping her foot against the ground and mustering all the hate she could. “I told you to leave, and never bother my family ever again. Now my mago is- why would you hurt her?”

“I didn’t. A mimic in the forests did, next to the mountains of Yamo-no-kami.” Katsumi‘s lips twitch, and she turns away from Mystery, instead examining Vivi’s body. Her torn clothing and her shallow breathing. 

“You did something to her.”

“I had to, Katsumi, the mimic tore through her with the intent to kill. It was either this, or her life.” 

Katsumi‘s shoulders begin to tremble, bitter tears slipping down her cheeks and onto Vivi’s neck.

“Leave... leave at once!” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to come to this.”

”Out!”

“As you wish.” 

The wind chimes trill, and the man’s footsteps lightly tap the porch until he vanished from sight.

The chill from the wind seeped in, but Katsumi didn’t tear her eyes away from Vivi as she rushed to the infirmary. The one place she hoped she would never have to utilize. Never this soon.

“Vivi.. why did you let this happen...!” Katsumi asks, but it was more to herself than to Vivi, who slept unconcerned for the sob rising in her grandmother's throat.

-

Her body... hurts. It hurts a lot. She could hardly feel it, but what she could feel ached.

Vivi’s eyes were shut tightly, and every breath made her shudder. Only for her body to ache more and more. 

There's murmuring around her, it’s... somewhat familiar... Okaasan and Otousan...

Maybe she just had a bad dream? Or.. something...

“Vivi, darling?” Okaasan says. 

Crap. They caught her... swallowing thickly, Vivi cracks an eye open. It’s easier than she expects, because the only light is a flickering candle that’s.. somewhere around her. Okaasan and otousan are there, whispering to one another. Immediately to her left, baba is lightly stroking her hair.

“How are you feeling Vivi?” Otousan leans close, cupping her cheek. Breath hitching, Vivi recoils from the pain. 

“Oh- I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

There’s a moment of silence, Vivi feels herself drifting in and out, laying her head back on the considerably more comfortable pillow than the... the ground. 

“Vivi,” Grandma says, voice raspier than usual, “we need you to stay awake. Your Ojisan is coming to visit.”

“...Oji Fumi?”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

The adults pause and share a silent glance, before looking down at her sadly. “You got hurt today, and your arm, leg, and ribs are broken. He’s going to come and patch you up.”

“O...okay...”

It hurts.. a lot. But maybe Fumihito will bring her some candy...? 

That would be nice.. the gummies are always nice...

-

The months have become chillier lately. Mystery sits on a tree branch, taking the form of a small bird, and he stares at the house quietly.

Since he brought Vivi home, almost none of the family members have left the house. Some have come and gone, many whom Mystery recognized, but Vivi hadn’t stepped outside once besides for a visit to a shrine. Where she hobbled around in crutches with her arm bound in bandages. 

Mystery remembered wincing, but he knew she was bound to be hurt regardless. It’s fortunate that it was just a few broken bones... It was fortunate that they kept her inside to heal. Who knew what sort of thing she could have done had she had the freedom to leave...

Yip!

Perking up, Mystery hops in place. Tempted to fly and scan the area for any dastardly foxes who may come about...

No. That wouldn’t be the case. Mystery made sure that no creature dared to harass his family... perhaps he’s just imagining things-?

There’s two more yips, and then a howl. 

His feathers ruffle as he launches himself into flight. Gliding toward the home urgently as the fox noises continued.

How is it possible- where is it coming from? Surely Katsumi wouldn’t allow a fox into the home, even if she was begged for it! So then-

Mystery lands on the roof, and quickly, he hops to the edge where the court yard was.

It was fairly sized, with a tree standing tall and filled with bird feeders and chimes. Decorations...

“-Yeah, I went to the Inari shrine for a blessing!”

Mystery would have gasped if he could, his eyes honing in on what was before him. Part of him wanted to pray it wasn’t real.

“...Is that really what you think? You’re weird!”

It was Vivi. 

She was sitting in a chair, her crutches stacked awkwardly beside her, and her leg wrapped in a cast.

No.. that wasn’t supposed to happen!

Her hands were blackened, the nails sharp.

She had fox ears, and a large puffy tail that was a brilliant white color, much like his own...

And before her, a small spirit that resembles a cat sat. The two making small talk.

She never spoke to spirits before... what is the meaning of this? Mystery hops anxiously, coming closer. The tail- the ears, they had to be fake. Yes. Stage make up put on her so that way she can play even while stuck inside-

Her ear twitches on its own. Mystery’s heart stops. Vivi twists her head and their eyes meet.

For a second she looks surprised, only for a smile to come across her now fox-like face.

Mystery turned and flew away as quickly as he could, just as she started to wave to him.

What has he done?

#mystery skulls animated #Vivi yukino #mystery the dog #vivis family #mystery skulls headcannons #Eage fanfic #eage fic #violence tw #blood tw #near death experience #the horrifying fear ofur computer doing something while u try to format hh

[therectoress]

Okay, hear me out: Yennaia as parents!! (Yennefer comes back from a risky assignment with an unknown artifact. Tissaia touches it and, without anyone else noticing, receives a vision of the future--a future where she and Yen are married and raising a family 👀)

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE 84 YEARS!!!!!!!! Also, I changed a tiny little thing that I think makes this So much better, so whoever you are, please don’t be mad!

Yennaia prompt: Yennaia as parents. (Yennefer comes back from an assignment with an unknown artefact. Tissaia touches it and, without anyone else noticing, receives a vision of the future- a future where she and Yennefer are married and raising a family.)

LINK TO ARCHIVEOFOUROWN IN THE REPLIES

Word count: 2.6k+ Pairing: Yennaia. Rating: T.

She rubbed her temples, a migraine working its way from the right side of her head to encompass it all. Eyeing through narrowed eyes the books sprawled around her desk, she belatedly noticed that some were threatening to fall off, almost making her chuckle, because no matter how much she might have changed since her conduit moment, Yennefer was still as messy as ever.

Tissaia sighed instead, leaning back into her chair, contemplating changing the contents of her pipe to something stronger than Kaedwenian tobacco, nevertheless, she was called back from her thoughts, just as she was about to summon the herbs, by a loud groan coming from the woman in front of her.

Who by the looks of her, wasn’t faring much better, with both hands clasped together as if in prayer, her forehead resting against them, black silky hair covering the rest of her face from view.

They had been at this for weeks, ever since the mage came back from an emergency call from Istredd, who had found only Gods knew what in those ancient ruins he studied as a saner person might their lover. And from the annoyed twist of her carmine lips and the crackling of chaos around her when the younger sorceress had portalled into her office, the boy had put up quite the fight to give it away to someone that wasn’t from the Council or the Chapter.

(Creating a way to erase memories might just be the Arch-mistress’ greatest achievement, not that anyone would ever know the author behind that particular spell.)

But neither could be trusted with the current political climate, after Sodden… well, everything had gone to shit after Sodden. The only good thing to come out of it being that Yennefer had decided to stay for the time being at Aretuza, then again not without imposing herself on Tissaia, of course, for the Rectoress now had a shadow that followed her everywhere except the laboratory.

Alas, Margarita had taken over her classes, since she was still recovering from the dimetirium, so her overwhelming amount of spare time had been spent trying to figure out what the golden ball in front of them was. A lost cause, probably, now that she considered it coldly.

Even so, hours and hours of hard work had borne no fruits. Nothing in her office, her mind or the immense library her school possessed had given them even clues.

Such an inconspicuous looking thing that it was… The most dangerous kind, if her five centuries alive had taught her anything.

It had slight cracks that looked intentional as if it was holding something on its insides of great importance, yet other than that, it wouldn’t look out of place in the workshop of a famous blacksmith. It certainly didn’t look like something found in an elven gravesite.

There had been moments when it had called to them, yes, to the Arch-mistress and her rebel. Distorted whispers, chants in Elder, beckoning them to touch it, still, they never did. That might just be suicide, considering the sheer power it exuded and after the battle with Nilfgaard, neither sorceress was keen on ending it, no matter how willing they had been on that hill.

‐

“It’s time to accept life has no more to give.”

‐

“You’re worth more than Nilfgaard could ever give you.”

‐

No, they didn’t need any more blood on their already soaked hands, thank you very much. That didn’t mean Destiny agreed with their passivity, though. Those gods-damned whispers. They hadn’t even had lunch!

Fingertips tinted white, Tissaia de Vries, resident Ice Queen, was actually considering throwing the sodding thing into the ocean, from her window office.

“What’s the worst that could happen? Really?” Said the violet-eyed mage and were the Arch-mistress in a better mood or her lungs not burning or exhaustion not weighing down on her like talking to Stregobor at length did, she might’ve listened to her conscious, to her control or just to reason because what she did next was shocking to both her and Yennefer.

She extended her bare hand as if possessed, ignoring the high-pitched wails of the younger mage who insisted she had only been joking, because what else was she supposed to do in this bloody hovel of a castle that was filled with cretins and hormonal teenagers?

The sorceress might have also noticed that her former pupil was just as willing to put herself in the line of fire for her as she had been on the battlefield.

They touched the metal. Together.

And their whole worlds were shaken to the core.

╌

Sitting up so fast she almost fell off the bed. A bed? Blue eyes opened to gentle sunlight coming from the window, the cold air hitting her bare skin, making goosebumps form on her ivory skin.

Looking down on herself she took notice that she wasn’t only naked but on a foreign bed, one that resembled the one in- Oh, fuck.

Cautiously she looked to the person next to her, holding the sheet against her bosom, trying to recover whatever she could of her destroyed modesty. The sight that met her was red, full, lips, her beautiful mouth open so wide her jaw might be dislocated, violet eyes and equally bare olive skin.

Tissaia and Yennefer both screamed.

The younger mage put space between them by jumping out of the bed and thus revealing herself completely to the brunette, who just responded by covering her petite form with the sheets. Hiding in a makeshift cocoon, her hands came up to cover her eyes like a toddler, only to find a wedding band on her ring finger, falling down the mattress, on her arse, accidentally, in her fright.

About to scream some more the pair were startled by a tentative knocking on the door and a child’s preoccupied voice, “Mama, Mummy, why are you screaming? You promised we could sleep in since aunt Rita almost burned down the kitchen yesterday!”

She could perfectly see the pout of the baby girl in her mind’s eyes, the fantasy upsetting her beyond belief, a visceral reaction she had only ever had with one girl out of the dozens she had taught. “It was a bat, it came through the window!” Tissaia responded on reflex, the words out of her mouth before she knew it.

The raven-haired mage followed suit, not knowing what was happening, just that she had the urge to make that tone of hers go away as fast as she could, “We’ll make it up to you! What about pancakes, sweetheart?” Covering her mouth with her hands, she made the same discovery that had the mighty Rectoress of Aretuza reacting like Fringilla was about to throw the powder at her face again.

“Okay! I’ll go tell Duchess!” And with that the girl, who they somehow knew was four and feasted on those pastries as King Foltest had done on wine, was gone, leaving two gobsmacked mages behind. King Foltest was dead.

“Whatever in fuck’s name happened?” Hissed the Arch-Mistress, crawling up to the bed and covering herself with one of the quilts she took from it. She threw with her free hand another one to Yennefer’s face, which the younger mage immediately wrapped around herself like a towel.

“Don’t ask me, you’re the one that touched the bloody artefact.” Walking to the wardrobe she pulled out a dress, glaring at the offensive garment for being a plain thing that she would have never in her right mind spent her coin in. Taking, as well, from one of the drawers a shirt and a skirt that could only belong to Tissaia, since they were so small, passing the clothing to the brunette and avoiding her eyes. “And like an idiot, I tried to stop you.”

She made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door closed. “Balance and control, my arse!” After throwing a pillow at the closed door, the brunette put on the outfit, frowning at her reflection in the mirror whilst simultaneously doing her hair up in her normal bun, almost hyperventilating when she noticed that her necklace was nowhere to be seen.

Breathing as deeply and slowly as possible, she went looking for some footwear and found worn boots by what the Arch-mistress assumed was her part of the bed, fastening the shoelaces with her teeth gritted and her hands shaking with electricity. Gods, she knew looked like a bloody peasant and that the pendant was gone and that she was now probably married with a child, but burning the house down with lightning wasn’t going to help matters at all.

Tissaia’s mind had never been this troubled as when she slid down the wall, her head resting against her knees, her arms hugging them. The brunette had dreamed about something like this, for years, decades even, but that was all she let herself have, never thinking she could get over the hurt of allowing herself to embrace it, knowing it was impossible.

Flashbacks assaulted her then, blood coming from her palms as she dug her nails in the skin. The coup on Thanned, Princess Cirilla and the witcher Geralt, the Lodge of Sorceresses and the end of the conflict and then… peace. A wedding. A gift. A baby. Her daughter. Their daughter.

Her whole frame shook, dry sobs coming from her lungs. Teeth biting down on her wounded hand to not make a sound. The grief. The loss. The happiness. The love. It was unbearable and still the best that had ever happened to her. Still a fabricated fantasy.

Inside the laboratory, her violet eyes filled with tears, letting some of them, the most stubborn, fall. This was all she had ever wanted, but not like this. Gods, not like this. From what little she could see they were happy, so happy in this reality and yet she knew it would slip from her fingers like water the moment that fucking ball decided to take this from her.

She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, trying to take comfort in applying the green eyeshadow on her eyelids, the lipstick on her lips, as a thousand memories fought for the spotlight in her mind. Gripping the brush so hard she broke it when her clever mind managed to solve the riddle of this existence.

They were in the future.

Racing to the door she opened it with magic, almost tripping in her haste to get to her wife. Stopping dead in her tracks when she saw what Tissaia had been reduced to.

Her thoughts unguarded for the first time she could remember, flowing in the stream of chaos that was always present around her. There were so many things to decipher she just stood still for a few minutes and then her heart broke. The ocean inside her was killing her. “Oh.” She whispered.

“Tissaia.” Yennefer knelt in front of her, taking her hands and healing the half-moon cuts in her palms. Blue eyes fluttering open, the light in them belonging to a broken woman, to a dead one. As she almost made herself. Gods, please, no. Anything but that. Anything. Even so, it was the truth and she was thankful for the knowledge in a way, for the opportunity to stop her, to hide her from the world that would come to want her head on a pike.

She hugged her, burying her face in the crook of her neck, smelling in the scent of her. “Please.” When that wasn’t enough, the younger sorceress manoeuvred them so the woman was on her lap, her chin on the crown of her head, rocking her back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, until the Arch-mistress was able to pull herself back together somewhat.

Her hand went to her cheek, her thumb caressing her reverently, tears leaking down blue orbs, but not for the reason the mage would’ve thought. “I’ve never wanted anything- I wish with every fibre of my being this was real.” Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she rested her forehead against the brunette’s. Yennefer had never been so grateful for thought transference.

Their eyes opened. Full of love, full of life. This was right. All their sacrifices were worth it, would be, knowing where the path ended, knowing the story ended and began again with them. A decade from where they left, together in that office studying the artefact and the wait couldn’t matter less when this was the endgame.

The door opened, and their gazes landed on a child, half dragging, half carrying a white cat into the room, her white shift barely covering her feet and Tissaia gasped, the familiar tingling in her head warning her of a conduit moment, her daughter’s. “Everything felt so wrong.” The child whimpered and getting off Yennefer as fast as she could she scooped her baby into her arms, Duchess landing gracefully on the floor, looking at the three of them suspiciously.

“It’s fine. Everything is fine now.” The sorceress whispered, blue meeting violet, her fingers moving one strand of chestnut hair behind her tiny ear. Slowly turning to the younger mage, who had clapped to get their attention, a choked sound leaving her throat when she realised just how much like them the toddler looked.

Controlling herself and smiling, the raven-haired mage said, “Now, who wants blueberry pancakes, with lots of honey?” The cat mewed, making the little girl giggle and she knew instantly, who she had taken the sound of her laughter from and putting her olive hand on Tissaia’s, Yennefer guided them down to the kitchen.

╌

She heaved, her hand against her chest, against the coolness of the pendant and she saw the younger mage was the same.

A vision. A gift.

The Arch-mistress tackled the raven-haired sorceress, kissing her for all she was worth. Kissing her again and again, until their bodies protested the magical strain they had just endured, loudly enough.

Frowning, when helping her up instead of happiness she sensed in her aura a deep paranoia. “Darling?” Not meeting her eyes, she answered, fiddling with the cloth of her elaborate skirt, but not letting go of the hand that held hers.

“Yes?” It came in a breathless whisper.

Tissaia grabbed her chin, frowning. “What’s the matter?” She nudged her consciousness with her own, finding steel doors firmly locked, still, she persisted, until she was sure the answer was ready to leave her tongue.

“Now that you know what will happen, will you… will you stop the coup?” ‘Will you change fate? Knowing the price of keeping the Brotherhood?’ went unsaid. Destiny was a fickle, wilful thing and they knew this better than most people. A give and a take, as the still Rectoress had restlessly engrained into her pupils.

The brunette laughed, reminding her of what was awaiting them if they dared. “Of course not.” Kissing Yennefer again to shut her up, she continued, “No. Every great empire has fallen. Every great empire will. I know this. I always have.”

Never in her life had she been this openly honest, vulnerable. She couldn’t bring herself to care. “It’ll hurt me, it might break me, to see what I created in ashes, but if I have to choose… my choice will always be you, Yennefer, it will always be our baby.”

Tears fell from her eyes again, this time the Arch-mistress cleaning them. “My choice will always be the both of you, too. When the world falls into the darkness, which we know it will, please remember I love you.”

“I promise.” She muttered.

#yennaia #tissaia de vries #post: ask #ship: yennaia #writing* #sityiatwru*

[caitlesshea]

death doesn’t discriminate

“Nile called. She said they did a recon mission in Brazil, blew up some buildings.”

Booker waits a moment, makes sure James is fully in the room before speaking again.

“She said it could’ve been a solo job.”

“She wasn’t supposed to tell you.” James mumbles as he stands next to him. 

Booker turns towards him, ready for an argument, when he sees the wary expression on James’ face. 

“Why?”

James turns away from him and starts pacing the length of the room. Booker thinks momentarily that he should’ve started this conversation in the office and not their bedroom, but he can’t change it now. 

“James. Why?” 

At the sound of his name, James turns toward him with wide, almost terrified eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does matter.” Booker crosses his arms as he leans against the dresser and stares at James. “Why didn’t you give me the job?”

“Because.” 

“Because why?”

“I couldn’t.”

Booker scoffs. “You couldn’t?”

“Mm.”

“Why?” Booker moves closer to James as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Why?”

“He said you were in pieces!” 

Booker freezes and it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of his lungs. 

“What?” Booker breathes out and it’s the only sound in the room. 

James rubs at his face like he’s mad at himself for letting that slip. 

“The church, after the grenade, the report back was that you were in pieces.” James’ breath catches on the word pieces and Booker stares at him incredulously.

“I healed.” Booker says slowly, as the dawning realization that James had cared for him, even then, sinks into him.

“You won’t always.” 

“Not for a long time.” 

“Just look at Andy!”

Booker feels like he’s been slapped and James realizes what he said a moment too late. 

“Sébastien.”

“No.” Booker takes a deep breath. “No.”

Suddenly he can’t be here, in their room, in their house, with James. Booker bodies his way out of their bedroom and starts moving through their house, collecting his keys, wallet, and phone. 

He knows he needs to say something, anything, but he can’t get the words out from where they’re lodged in his throat.

Before he makes it to the door he turns to look at James and almost stops what he’s doing at the tears in James’ eyes. This isn’t how Booker saw this conversation going, this isn’t how he wanted it to go. 

James pulls Booker’s motorcycle helmet from its hook by the door and hands it to him. The argument that he’ll survive any crash is on the tip of his tongue but he takes the helmet and nods instead. 

He turns without another look back and it isn’t until he’s been riding for at least thirty minutes that he lets the tears fall. 

When his phone won’t stop buzzing he finally pulls over to look at it. He wants to rip his helmet off and throw it into the grass as far as it will go, but he stops himself. 

He sees a few texts from Nile and one from James and because he’s nothing if not a masochist he reads that one first. 

[James: I’m sorry]

Booker wipes at his eyes and instead of reading the string of texts from Nile he decides to call her.

“What the fuck did you say to him?!” Nile seethes on the other end of the phone without so much as a hello. 

“I didn’t…”

“Don’t make me call Quynh.”

Booker sighs and a feeling of helplessness settles in his gut. 

“We got into a fight.”

“No shit.”

“Nile.”

“You need to fix this Booker.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Booker hangs his head because he knows that’s not true. 

He knows it only escalated because he got scared when James admitted to caring about him even then.  

“You better. He requested to join us on our next job, he’ll be in Berlin tonight and we head out tomorrow.”

“Job? What are you talking about?”

“Some trafficking ring. The meetup happened yesterday and we’re taking them out tomorrow, he asked to join.”

“He can’t!”

“Well. He is. So you need to fix this.”

“The house in Berlin?”

“Booker.”

“Dammit, Nile.”

He can hear her sigh over the phone. He knows he’s breaking every rule they have in place that allows him to speak to Nile and Quynh, and sometimes Andy, but never affords him the opportunity to join them on jobs. 

They don’t even know he’s dating James. Or was. 

Fuck. 

“Please.” Booker isn’t above begging. He knows the kind of people on this job that they’ll be dealing with, he can’t let James go into that, CIA training be damned. 

“We’re at the house in Berlin.”

“Thank you.”

“And Booker?” Nile waits until she confirms he’s listening. “He was crying.”

She hangs up, after she twists the knife he was already feeling in his chest. 

“Fuck.” Booker groans, wipes more tears from his eyes and heads to the private plane hangar they use and asks for a flight to Berlin. 

When he gets to their safe house in Berlin he wants to scream. Nile, the asshole, said the job was tomorrow. 

What she didn’t say was that it was in the dead of night. 

So, now he’s a couple of hours behind when James got here, and Booker can tell he’s already been here because his laptop is on the table, but they’re all gone. For however long this job takes. 

Booker really doesn’t want to get caught in the safe house when they return so he heads out to a café until he can get Nile to let them know they’re back. 

He’s barely taken a sip of his coffee when his phone rings.

“Nile.”

“You’re in Berlin?”

“You know I am.” Booker grits out.

“Copley’s hurt.” 

The blood drains from Booker’s face and he sways where he stands. 

“What?”

“It’s bad. Can you meet us?”

“Tell me where you are.”

She rattles off some address and he’s already jumping on his motorcycle before she even finishes. 

Fear, like he’s never known, grips him to the point where he knows he’s a mess. He barely manages to contain the sob caught in his chest as he finally makes it to their location.

Nothing matters except getting to James. Booker doesn’t even take out his gun as he runs into the building. 

He barely has a chance to take stock of the situation, which is, a lot of dead bodies and the people he considers family all sitting around James as they check him over.

Booker feels like he can’t move. There’s so much blood, more than he feels like he’s ever seen before, which he knows isn’t true, but it’s coming from James, and it matters.

“Sébastien?” James croaks out and Booker doesn’t hesitate, he slides down next to James, pushing Nicky out of the way, who protests until he sees the look on Booker’s face. 

Booker’s frantically looking over James, who looks surprisingly okay for someone sitting in so much blood.

“Sébastien.” James grabs his hands and stills them. 

Booker looks at him and then back to Nile and narrows his eyes at her sheepish look.

“She said you were hurt.” Booker whispers and James nods at him but lifts his shirt to show him his bloody stomach. 

“I don’t.” Booker shakes his head. “He needs a doctor!” 

It’s not lost on Booker that the placement of the wound is very similar to the one Booker obtained at the church in France. 

The wound they were arguing about. Healed but not. 

“We can’t take him to one.” Andy says quietly.

“We have to. He’ll die.”

“Sébastien.”

Booker turns to look at James as he coughs wetly.

“No.” Booker swallows. “No.”

Booker fumbles for his phone and calls one of James’ contacts that he set up for Andy should she ever need medical help.

“What are you doing?” Joe asks him and Booker shoves him back.

“I’m getting him help.”

At their blank stares he growls. “Do you really think he’d just let Andy die if she was hurt?”

No one says anything and Booker feels anger coursing through him that they still thought so little of James.

“You can either leave or you can stay.” Booker grits out.

Thankfully they all keep quiet and in no time at all Booker’s sitting in a waiting room in a hospital waiting to hear if James is going to survive. 

Booker feels like his nerves are so frayed he’s going to come apart at the seams. He can’t get his legs to stop shaking, either. 

Nicky settles his hand on Booker’s knee and Booker looks over at his brother with watery eyes.

“He’ll be okay.” Nicky says quietly and Booker shakes his head. 

“You don’t know that.”

“Have a little faith, Book.” Andy says from where she’s leaning against a wall.

He laughs as he tips his head up toward the ceiling.

“How long has this been going on?” Joe asks as he squats in front of Nicky’s chair. 

Booker doesn’t want to answer, wants to tell them it’s none of their business since they decided to exile him, but.

“Since London.” 

Booker looks around at everyone. Nile’s smiling, Quynh has a grin that looks suspiciously like the Cheshire Cat. Andy looks tired and Joe and Nicky have their heads tilted to the side like they’re wondering just how much they missed.

“Not here. We’ll talk at the safe house.” Andy decides and Booker nods. 

They’re finally allowed back to see James and Booker can vaguely hear the doctor explaining something about a miracle and fast healing organs when he see James sitting up in bed, smiling. 

Booker rushes over to him and grabs his hands.

“I healed faster than I should have.” James says quietly to him and Booker looks at him and James pulls up his shirt to show his unblemished stomach.

Booker doesn’t hesitate he just leans down to hug James as best he can while he weeps tears of joy. 

James puts his face to Booker’s cheek and kisses it once.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too.” Booker doesn’t think he needs to admit just how scared he was, and how he understands now why James didn’t want Booker running headfirst into danger.

“I love you.” James whispers and Booker feels the tears well up again.

“I love you, too.” 

#the old guard #booker x copley #bopley #mentions of injury #mentions of blood

[inquartata30]

WIP Whenever Yet Again

tagged by @natsora​ which is now like:

Tagging @jt-boi-n7 and @foofyschmoofer no obligations

And here we go—

The Initiative’s leaders had gathered in Pathfinder HQ. Captain Praeton, the turian who had run the shipyard, had been the last body recovered and accounted for from the kett attack. Thaia, once Praeton’s second, was now in charge of the shipyard and with that unwanted promotion had come another: she was part of the Initiative leadership now. She’d only found out last night, the news barely registering between Zahra’s meltdown over a broken toy and Carian going missing for half an hour, buried up to her neck in a mountain of clothes she’d accidentally knocked onto herself while playing in Thaia and Lexi’s closet. She’d only been rescued her after Zahra had heard Carian’s muffled pleas for help. At least Zahra had laughed so hard at her sister’s predicament that the toy was forgotten. 

With Thaia was Aella, tucked close against her chest in her sling. She hadn’t planned on bringing her infant with her, but the second she’d tried to give Aella to someone else for the duration, Aella had started to cry. Thaia had taken her back and, bewildered as fuck, done a shallow meld with her to find out what was wrong. Once she’d peeked in her daughter’s mind, the answer had been clear. Aella simply hadn’t wanted to be separated. Before Thaia had even ended the meld, Aella had settled and fallen back asleep, the reassuring thumps of her father’s heartbeat providing her the comfort and security she’d needed.

Zahra, Anahera, and Carian were safe in Kesh’s office with Jaal, having been old enough to negotiate with. Bribed. She’d bribed them. However, even then they’d only agreed to the separation for a little while, so this meeting had to be short. So far, it didn’t look like it would be, and that really didn’t bode well for Thaia if this was supposed to be a regular thing. Those present—Kandros, Kesh, Sula, Dr. Aridana, Captain Atandra, Pathfinders Ryder, Sarissa, Hayjer, and Avitus—were silent, waiting for Director Jarun Tann to begin the meeting that he’d fucking called in the first place.

He still waited another annoyingly dramatic beat to do it.

“We must plan a funeral for all those whom we have lost,” said Tann, his speech patterns having slowed further as he’d gotten older. Age had leeched so much color from his skin that the only tinges left were hidden in the crags of his wrinkles. Ancient. He was fucking ancient for a salarian and still fucking alive when he shouldn’t have been.

The idea of a funeral was a joke. There was no body to see to, so how could Thaia fulfill the responsibility left to her by tradition? Lexi was dead but not and there would be nothing to watch rejoin the all is one whatever the fuck there was in the end. There was nothing to return to the sea. There wasn’t even a sea.

If Thaia had possessed the ability to light things on fire with her eyes, Tann would’ve been engulfed in flames. Screaming. Screaming like Lexi had over comms.

Behind his desk and not aflame, Tann glanced in Thaia’s direction and then quickly looked away. He shifted in his chair several times, like his seat had suddenly become padded with venomous snakes. He hesitated slightly before he went on. “For the living, there will be a time of mourning, so we may process our grief together.”

He had no right to grieve.

Tann shifted in his chair again. “This afternoon, I will begin the process of integrating the funerary traditions of each culture for the ceremony.”

He didn’t deserve to grieve, much less take charge of their collective grief.

“No,” Thaia said.

Finally, Tann fully acknowledged her. However, he still looked past her, at some arbitrary point on the wall painted with the shadows of everyone in the room, backlit by the Nexus’s artificial sun. “What?” he asked, rough with frustration. “What else would you have me do?”

The fucking gall, the sheer fucking audacity of him to be the one frustrated with her. She dropped her voice.. “You can start by looking me in the fucking eye.”

Slowly, slowly, he drew his eyes from the wall and looked directly at Thaia for the first time since she’d lost her bondmate. “And now will you tell me what else I can do that I have not already done?”

What he had already done was what had gotten them here in the first place. And he knew it.

Rage surged from the fire that hadn’t stopped roaring since the attack. “Invent time travel and fix your fucking mistakes. It was your fucking choices that led to the Uprising and my sister dying in Hydroponics. If that hadn’t happened, she would’ve been there when the kett attacked. Between her and Lexi, they could’ve defeated the kett. Instead—”

“Or they both could have been exalted,” said Tann, as if it was a perfectly reasonable thing to say.

It wasn’t. 

All Thaia saw was Safira and Lexi forcibly transformed into those things, bodies wrenched and twisted and screaming—

Aella was crying. Biotics writhed around Thaia, the flare wiping out the crowd of shadows cast on the wall. It hadn’t hurt Aella and never would, the biotics part of her father as much as her heart, but it had startled her. She would’ve felt the rigid tension of Thaia’s entire body, the intensity that still fueled the flare and Thaia couldn’t stop it and Aella was still crying.

Trusted hands freed Aella from the sling, a trusted friend and mentor softly saying, “I’ve got her,” and then, “we’ll be in Kesh’s office,” as Thaia mechanically passed her the sling. Aella’s crying calmed to sniffles as she was carried down the stairs. The door opened and closed. It was quiet.

Thaia didn’t snap out of it so much as stumble from it, emerging in an empty room, save for one person.

Arms loosely crossed, Sula leaned her hip against the vidcom table in the center of HQ’s middle level. To most, she would’ve appeared at ease, but worry was there in the slight lowering of her brow, along with how her blue eyes flicked back and forth, searching her daughter’s face for... Thaia wasn’t sure what. A sign of sanity, maybe.

“Well,” Sula said, easy as ever, “can’t say I’m surprised. Drack’ll be disappointed that he lost the bet on whether or not you’d throw Tann out an airlock. Tann shuffled out of here pretty quick, though. Didn’t think his old ass had it in him to move that fast.”

“He didn’t have to worry. I wouldn’t have hurt him.”

“Tann’s the only one worried about Tann. The rest of us couldn’t give a fuck about him. We’re worried about you, kid.”

Thaia looked out the window, at the Garson Ward beneath the morning-angled light. A work crew had crowded at the edges of a park scorched black. Another crew was spreading out over a razed field. A gigantic intermodal container meant to carry raw materials for shipbuilding waited on the docks, already half-filled with scrap metal from cleaning up the Commons. The Commons and Hydroponics. Then repairs would begin. Weeks would pass and then Hydroponics would be like new, not even a scar. Like after the Uprising.

Loss lodged a hot coal in her throat. 

Sula spoke again. “Might want to consider letting some of that anger flow away. It’ll tear through like a rip current, but it’ll go.” 

Thaia turned and frowned at Sula, because Sula should’ve been one of the last fucking people calling for cooler heads to prevail. Her dad should be on her side, not Tann’s.

Sula held up her hands, palms out. “I said some, not all.”

The coal crumbled to ashes and embers, scouring Thaia’s voice when she replied, “I can’t.” It was her only handhold. Fingers scraping into hardscrabble ground as she fought falling. 

“This is the most pissed off I’ve seen you since you were that twenty-year-old kid mad at her stepfather, her mother, her dad, and the whole fucking galaxy.”

“What?” Sula had saved her back then. It was what her father did. Only an ungrateful shit of a daughter would be angry with her for that. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

“No? You never got mad that I didn’t come get you after your mom bailed?” The incongruent mildness in her tone infuriated.

Thaia breathed through it. “You couldn’t. The custody agreement was ironclad.”

Sula straightened, questions suddenly thrown out harder, landing as punches. “Because your mother had physical custody of you right then? When she was on Korlus and you on Thessia? Because that asshole turian sure as fuck didn’t have any custodial rights.”

Thaia had forgotten. A few times in those first months, alone in the dark in the middle of the night, frozen in place, lungs burning with the breath she couldn’t catch after waking from her nightmare, she’d questioned why. When she hadn’t come up with an answer, she’d fumed until self-imposed guilt wracked her for being ungrateful. Rattled, she’d focused solely on Aulus, the one who’d hurt her with his hands. Never to anyone had she breathed a word of that small-hours-of-the-night resentment of Sula. But it was still there, smoldering. Her dad hadn’t physically stopped Aulus. The matriarchs in the park had. Sula had been on Illium when it happened, and then it’d been days before she’d gotten to Armali, leaving Thaia believing for all that time that she was completely alone. Now that Thaia remembered, the question wouldn’t go away no matter how many breaths she took. She rotated her left arm, loosening her shoulder before she realized what she was doing. The question persisted. Why. Why. Why hadn’t she been worthy of the same protection as her sisters?

“You can ask,” Sula said and Thaia almost jumped.

The question tumbled out bitter and brutal, her fingers curling into fists. “Why didn’t you get me earlier?”

Where Thaia’s question had been harsh, Sula’s answer was gentle, hushed, and riddled with long-lived regret. “Because I thought she’d come back, too.”

Thaia had spent every day for weeks watching the spaceport after her mother had left, hoping she would be on one of the arriving ships, then pretending she might be because her mother couldn’t really have been gone forever.  “She didn’t.” 

“No. She wasn’t herself anymore. The Indah Kallistrate I’d known for centuries had died long before I accepted it.”

Sula’s point found its mark.

Lexi’s dead.

Lexi’s dead and it’s time you accepted it. If you don’t, it’ll only hurt your kids.

Goddess, she’d made Aella cry when Aella was the one who’d lost the most, and what kind of monster was she to make her daughter cry instead of helping her feel better? Aella had already lost her mother. Unlike her sisters, she wouldn’t be able to remember Lexi at all.

“Aella will only know the Ietrai.” Thaia’s regret mirrored Sula’s, which suited, in her opinion. Like father, like daughter.

“That fucking kett isn’t her mother. Just like the person who abandoned you wasn’t your mother.”

There was another point there, the one Thaia didn’t like to think about. But, whether she acknowledged it or not, it was still one of many sources of her rage. So, it got its chance to torch, too. “I should’ve gotten there sooner.” Thaia looked out at the ward below, at the repairs being made, at the cargo container now nearly filled to the brim with wreckage. This was what failure looked like.

Sula stepped between Thaia and the window, relentlessly refusing to let Thaia break eye contact. “You didn’t have a choice to go sooner. I did. And I’ve spent a long fucking time trying to make up for not doing what you needed me to. Unlike me, you did everything right. That’s all anyone could ask of you and you need to hear that.”

What Thaia needed was for Sula to make this better, to fix this fucking nightmare, but nothing was fixed despite Sula being right there and Thaia just—goddess, she just wanted to fight. It burned through every centimeter of her body, and she tried and she tried to stop it from consuming her. Taut and shaking like a huntress’s overdrawn bow, Thaia couldn’t stop it all. “Lexi’s gone! If I’d done everything right, she would still be here!”

#prompt tag #tessera au #tessera: the darkest timeline #natsora how could you

[ravennawritesfanfiction]

Toss A Coin To Your Witcher (Part 3)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Word Count: 1193 words

Summary: You didn’t run away and now it is possible that Geralt knows. Jaskier involuntarily arrives to keep you company and you piece together a theory of why you're there.. wherever there is.

Taglist: @sdavid09​

Cold. Damp. Gnashing teeth. Each consecutive thought filled you with more and more dread. Now more than ever, you wished Geralt would burst through the door and unleash terror upon whoever took you. You had all of your things with you; chances are, they thought that you had simply taken Geralt’s advice and left, but you hadn’t. You wouldn’t.

The top edge of your blanket was soaked when you heard a noise outside. Geralt didn’t even have the decency to be quiet when he can back with his first load of wood. You closed your eyes in hopes that if he checked on you, you would look like you were sleeping.  The more you listened, the more steps you counted. One. Two. Three. At least three people. Then your tent opened. You tried to scream, but sound was lost on you. Then, nothingness.

You woke in a locked room and with a lack of windows, you couldn’t tell if you were in a dungeon or a tower. The ceiling leaked and the walls were stained from years of neglect. If you were in a village, it was a small and quiet one. Likely, you were in the middle of nowhere with nothing but your thoughts and captures to keep you company. 

Whoever they were, they were good. They managed to time the attack for the one time Geralt wasn’t around and they were silent enough to he hadn’t heard them. A new fear crept in as you thought about Geralt. What if they hadn’t snuck past him, but through him? You quickly squashed the ideas when you remembered that you were talking about the Butcher of Blaviken. But what if three had been more? You couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts any more than you had been able to help the nightmares that had plagued your sleep every night. The ones that had started all thought many months ago. The ones where you were forced to watch Geralt die; over and over again and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The gnashing teeth were replaced with exceptionally heavy footsteps. The person who’s steps filled your ears was dragging something. Perhaps that’s why he seemed so immense. 

“Here, Pet, enjoy the company.” there was a sick thunk of a body hitting the ground. The only indication that the body was a still living and breathing person was the stifled moan in response to being introduced to the floor; face first.The heavy man retreated back down the hall having accomplished his mission. 

“I know that jacket! Jaskier! Is that you? Wake up.” he didn’t so much as twitch. “You can’t even sing.” you taunted, knowing that Jaskier would do anything to counter and defend himself.

“You take that back,” he slurred. “I have the voice of a goddess.”

You helped Jaskier off the floor; saddened to see your friend in such a pitiful state. It was odd to you that the person they stuck in your personal prison had been a friend and companion to not only yourself, but to Geralt as well. It seemed intentional. 

“How did you end up here?” you imagined some wild and heroic story of a valiant and daring rescue, but judging by the smell, you very much doubted that. 

“Dunno.” He was absolutely hammered. Sloshed. Drunk.

“Where’s Geralt?” you pressed.

“Dunno. Left him weeks ago. Where are we?” he still hadn’t opened his eyes. You stared at him; horrified. 

“Weeks?” You had just woken up. Everything felt like it had happened last night. How had you been asleep that long? You weren’t a mage and you knew admittedly very little about magic and monsters, but you imagined that making someone sleep for an extended time wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. 

“Why did you give away your pretty necklace?” Jaskier’s question hit you funny. Like getting the wind knocked out of your lungs, but worse. Your hand instinctively went to your throat only to come up empty. 

“ I didn’t. Jaskier, I need you to listen and focus. I didn’t leave and I didn’t give away my necklace. I need you to tell me everything you know.” The necklace had been your mother’s. She had died just weeks before you had met Jaskier and Geralt. You wouldn’t part with it willingly. 

“I knew you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. And at night!” Jaskier lit up. “I remember panicking, waiting for you, getting mad that it was just me, searching roadways, finding drag marks in the woods, and then your necklace on a stranger. Then I parted ways and hit the bar… a lot.” He was proud of what he remembered. You were surprised.

“Okay. Tell me about the drag marks.” who knew what could be important? “Did it look like I was dragged or did it look like i was dragging something?”

 “Looked odd, like you wrapped everything in a blanket and dragged it behind you,” he made a face. “Didn’t seem right to me.”

“What about my necklace?” you cringed. Did you even want to know?

“A woman had it. Said a guy gave it to her. He told her it was his dead wife’s and he didn’t want it anymore.” he laughed and made eye contact for the first time, “Geralt told her it was his wife’s necklace and that she had been kidnapped.” when you didn’t laugh, he frowned at your lack of a sense of humor. “She gave it back to Geralt.”

You were relieved that it was safe with Geralt, and though you would never admit it to Jaskier, the thought of Geralt calling you his wife made you ridiculously happy. Something else stuck with you about what Jaskier had told you; Geralt had told the woman that you had been kidnapped… he knew you hadn’t just left and he was looking for you.

“Jaskier, good news! Geralt’s looking for at least me, so he’ll find you. Now, we need to figure out where we are and who they are.”

“Well, I was in a bar in Blaviken… Seemed like a place Geralt wouldn’t come bothering me.” Jaskier seemed fairly proud of himself.

“Okay, so let’s assume, for argument’s sake, that we are in Blaviken. Why?” You were mostly talking to yourself, but if Jaskier decided to participate in the conversation, you wouldn’t be mad.

“Well, we were traveling with Geralt…” Jaskier seemed to be sobering up now that he was waking up.

“The Butcher of Blaviken. Why bother us and not just go after Geralt himself? We were hell and gone from Blaviken when I was taken. You were in Blaviken; nothing like coming to the enemy.” You pondered the thought for a minute, “We were easier targets. He had killed all those fighters single-handed.”

“I feel a trap.” Jaskier was twiddling his thumbs and looking around your new home with a dopey look. “On the upside, we aren’t sleeping outside, we have your things and mine, and we aren’t paying for lodging.”

“Love the optimism, any thoughts about escaping?” you looked at him from the corner of your eye as you took a mental inventory of your belongings.

To be continued

#the witcher #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #jaskier #toss a coin to your witcher