#the lighting of this moment was so dreadful in some moments so adjusting layers was tricky on some frames lol

[negative-azure]

[*𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓!]

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[*𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧? | wattpad!]

proceeding to open document . . . 

[*𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄!]

 ❝ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄 ❞

❝he's been staring at you since you brought that bottle over to him and his lil' friend. seems like he likes you.❞

❝𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬.❞

❝i guess? bitch, your pussy broke or something?❞

❝maybe...she's just interested in somebody else.❞

❝𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩!❞

Money fluttered down from the sky in bursts of green and blue dollar bills, blanketing the people below in a rainbow hue of colors as bright lights strobed across the club. The sweet scent of perfume, mixed in with the thick, masking scent of lemon and citrus, smoke wafting from hookah machines scattered across the club. The crowd seemed to double, almost triple in size from the moment I got here, patrons buzzing with anticipation, almost bursting at the seams with excitement. The atmosphere tonight was filled with sexual tension, fueled only by strong double shots of alcohol and loud music that filled the four walls of Club Crystal.

Bottle girls rushed past me to serve eager, intoxicated customers, almost sprinting across the club as they balanced gigantic bottles of alcohol topped off with sparklers in their hands.

Fancy danced on stage, performing acrobatic, concise movements as she spun around the pole, captivating her adoring audience below her. Money covered the floor of the stage around her in a sea of green - her tassel, silver platform heels stepping over the dollar bills with ease. Hands reached out for her, desperate, begging for a chance to touch her rich, chocolate skin, pulling at the baby pink straps of her outfit.

Humming along to the 21 Savage song that radiated throughout the club, I weaved through the dense crowd of people as I made a beeline to the bar.

Men that passed by me grasped at my hands, some handing me singular bills - others laying on thick, not so subtle compliments, thinly veiled as offers for sex. Others offered me an "escape" from the club, sprouting off nonsense about how I didn't belong here, how I deserved to be a housewife - a lot of which just sounded like unnecessary white noise, almost like television static as it filtered in one ear and out of the other.

At the far end of the bar, Mimi was consumed in a conversation with Club Crystal's newest bartender, Justin. Leaning over the counter as she talked to him, Justin rinsed out glasses and dried them with the rag in his hand. Mimi flipped long, curly inches over her shoulder as she reached her hand out, pushing her breasts up as she touched his long, blonde-tipped dreads that fell across his chest. I couldn't tell what they were talking about, but judging from how Justin stepped just a little closer, his eyes unable to focus on the two beautiful views in his face - Mimi's eyes and her breasts that poked out from her revealing one piece.

"Poor Justin, he don't even know Mimi is going to chew him up and spit him out," Giselle snickered, finishing up with a customer at the bar before sliding down to me. Without me asking, she readied me a glass of water, one hand squeezing the juice from two evenly cut lemon slices while her other hand dropped a slim, black straw down the center of the glass.

"That bitch just can't help it, I swear."

Feeling Fancy's arm draped around my shoulder, she leaned on me for support as she steadied herself in her heels. She smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, and I could feel the thin layer of sweat on her body, along with the fast paced, racing thump of her heartbeat. Her baby blue and white holographic platforms reflected and bounced off the strobing lights overhead, and Fancy adjusted the straps of her thin, dark blue bikini as she sat down, Giselle sliding over a shot of D'usse in her direction.

"I just can't believe it keeps happening," I sipped my water, the three of us watching in awe as Justin only moved closer to Mimi, our eyes glued to the scene that unfolded in front of us.

Giselle was one of our newest bartenders too - only she had been here three months longer than Justin, and three months longer than any other male bartender we seemed to hire. And in that short time frame, we've seen Mimi go through just about every male bartender that seemed to walk through these double doors. There was Malik, Christopher, Tyson - one named Shamar who had blonde hair and three face tattoos - Cory, who I remember wouldn't let any of us forget that he was from Chicago - and now Justin. Crazy part was, those were the only ones I could remember off the top of my head. I'm sure if I kept counting, I'd have to use both hands and all ten of my toes, too.

And it wasn't like they didn't know - I'd seen Giselle go out of her way to warn them, but her words would only go in one ear and out of the other as soon as they saw Mimi approaching with her dimpled smile, curves, and flower tattoos. She was nothing more than walking temptation to them, luring unsuspecting - and horny as hell - men who actually knew better. I couldn't lie - part of me felt bad for them - but that pity quickly vanished when I realized they were willing participants in whatever game she wanted to play. It was nothing more than that - a game - and sometimes they thought they could play it better than the stripper who had seen ten men just like them in the span of twenty minutes.

"She need to be banned from the bar," Fancy chimed in, shaking her head. She took a sip from my water glass, leaving a glossy imprint of her lips on the opposite side of my glass. I knew she was joking, but there was a hint of underlying seriousness in her voice, "If we go through anymore bartenders, we're gonna have to start hiring the crackheads on the street."

"You sure Mimi wouldn't fuck a crackhead?" Giselle questioned, tilting her head at us, refilling my glass and pouring another shot for Fancy.

"If it had dreads and ate pussy, I can't say she wouldn't."

Tossing back the shot, the three of us started to laugh. My cheeks ballooned as I tried to swallow the water in my mouth before it dribbled out, our eyes glued to the next arc of our free television show. Between Kiki's overzealous and dramatic stories she sprouted off in the locker room, and Mimi's ever increasing list of victims, nothing was ever dull here. I could feel the tension and anticipation that radiated from us as we watched Justin come around from the end of the bar, looking across the club from a manager or supervisor as Mimi took his hand. Our heads followed them as they walked past us, Mimi winking at us as she led him in the direction of the private rooms, Justin hot on her heels like a lost puppy.

"Well, Mimi knows what she wants," I shrugged, "And she certainly gets it."

Giselle parted ways with us to go attend to some customers that slid up to the bar, a group of girls who were already intoxicated. I could hear their voices over the music as they talked over one another, telling Giselle that they were celebrating one of their birthdays, and their drink orders all at once. Fancy told me that she was going to freshen up before her next dance, leaving by myself to scope out any potential customers for tonight.

Fancy called it the "Stripper-Solar".

As long as you knew what you were looking for, it was easy to find the best opportunities to make your money. Appearances were everything here - but the ideal guy gave off the aura of money. You wanted them not too flashy and out there - nine out of ten times that meant that they were overcompensating for a lack of funds in their wallet. You couldn't let the big, glittering chains and diamond watches fool you - a lot of those men were stingy with their money and most of the time wanted something "extra" for their attention. And you didn't want them too open, either. Those were the desperate, greedy types. You wanted someone who looked like they just wanted a good time, and nothing more than that.

"Oh my god Yaya, I'm so glad you're here."

Walking into my eyesight was Charm, one of the newest bottle girls the club hired recently. Even though she was twenty-one, her baby face and chubby cheeks made her look way younger.

"Could you do me a favor?" She asked, swaying from side to side as she held a slender, amber colored bottle of Don Julio in her hand. Her knees were practically about to cave in, and her face was scrunched up with discomfort, sloshing around the liquid in the bottle with her movements. She barely gave me a chance to respond before she continued, shoving the bottle into my hands, "Can you please go deliver this bottle to table eleven? I have to pee so fucking bad."

"Uh-"

"You're the best. Thanks Yaya!"

Charm rushed past me, hurrying in the direction of the bathroom, disappearing into the crowd.

Sighing, I looked down at the bottle of overpriced alcohol, my eyes drifting up to the VIP section of the club, which stretched high into the ceiling. At the club, there were two sets of table sections. The first section was seated on the ground floor, where you had a closer view of the stage and proximity to the bar. The tables and chairs were closely packed together, so you'd have to weave between dancers and people getting lap dances to get to your table. They weren't expensive seats - so you definitely got what you paid for.

And if you were willing to spend a bit more, a pretty penny to enjoy your night - you were seated in the balcony section on the second floor. All the big spenders and folks with money lounged up there, and you'd be rubbing shoulders with football and basketball players, rappers, and all kinds of celebrities who reserved their own tables. The balcony overlooked the stage and the rest of the club, giving you a birds eye view of everything that was going on below you. It was private, secluded, and when people threw money from the balcony, it rained throughout the club like storm clouds.

The music only grew louder as I approached the stairs, and I could feel the vibrations from the loud bass of a familiar Drake song as my hand slid along the black, metal railing. I planted my feet firmly as I walked up the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when I reached the top, adjusting my sweaty hand around the neck of the bottle. I had been up those stairs plenty of times back when I was a bottle girl, but it felt entirely different now. Especially with the amount of eyes that lingered on me as I walked past each table, other bottle girls sliding by me to get back down the stairs as they attended to their tables.

Table eleven was at the far end of the balcony, tucked off in the corner, obscured by the view of the same girls from the bar earlier toasting drinks as one of the dancers danced on the table in front of them.

"Hi, did you guys order a bottle of Don Julio?"

"Damn, since when did bottle girls start dressing like you?"

The two men occupying the black couches cut their conversation short when they realized I was standing in front of them. Both of them were well dressed, while the one that spoke was dressed in a white collared shirt with gold chains that dangled from around his neck. A blunt was nestled between his thumb and index finger, filling the slightly intimate space with the smell of earthy herbs. He leaned forward, tapping his blunt against the side of the ashtray, staring me up and down as a smile made its way across his face. I couldn't help but inwardly cringe as he started to get up, only interrupted by his friend who leaned over to take the bottle from me.

"I'm sorry about my friend," he apologized, he smiled, "He still hasn't figured out that not everything he thinks needs to be said all the time."

Our hands touched as he wrapped his hand around the neck of the bottle below my hand, his other hand supporting the bottom of the slender, cold glass. Soft, hazel green eyes stared back into mine as he held our eye contact, tattoos decorating his face symmetrically. For some reason, he looked familiar - but I couldn't figure out exactly where I remembered him from. I figured I had seen him in passing at the club, feeling like maybe I had given him a dance before. His appearance stood out definitely, but after a while, all the men here started to look the same in one way or another.

"It's fine," I replied, my hand slipping from around the neck of the bottle, "I'm used to it."

For a moment, his eyes flickered to my outfit, analyzing the white, sheer netting that clung to my body. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, over the rings pierced into the corners of his lips, dragging up to meet my eyes again. I'm sure he didn't mean to, but his subtle scrutiny suddenly made me self conscious, my eyes falling from his almost immediately. His voice was low and baritone, and he leaned closer, speaking clearly over the music. The sound of his voice vibrated in my ears, leaving a lingering rumble in my ear drums, "Still, my friend's an asshole."

"I-It's fine," I reassured him, stepping back. "I hope you guys enjoy it."

"We will, don't worry your pretty little head, mama!"

Leaving their table, I headed back down the stairs, looking over my shoulder as I could still feel the two of them watching me from afar. I shook it off, trying to clear my mind, the sight of Mimi twirling around the pole being a welcomed distraction. Her movements were graceful - a shimmery, black, tiny monokini leaving little to the imagination as the material sparkled in the spotlight that steadied on her. Money rained down over the railing, falling over her and onto the stage as she spread her legs open, gliding down to the stage floor smoothly. From the pattern in her movements, I could recognize that she was coming to the end of her second song, which meant that my turn was quickly approaching.

"You're such a lifesaver!"

Charm greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, clasping her hands together.

I shrugged, "It's no problem. Don't forget to make sure they pay for that."

"Totally."

As Mimi's third song drew to a close, I could feel those pre-dance jitters rise up in my stomach. Even though I had been dancing full time for almost eight months, I still hadn't been able to shake the nerves that came along with it. Fancy told me that I'd get over them eventually, but they only seemed to grow in intensity until sometimes, I was full on trembling in my heels. The whole thing just made me nervous, and even though I knew what to expect and knew that I would be fine, it was like I couldn't help the anxiousness that radiated throughout my body. It made my palms sweaty, and my body run hot. And the more my brain seemed intent on focusing on it, the worse the feeling got, up until I felt like I almost couldn't breathe.

I needed some fresh air, and retreating to the locker room was my best bet.

I still had time before I had to get on stage. In between dances they bagged up each dancer's money, and depending on how much was thrown, it took a few minutes. In the time it took them to clean everything up, I could refresh my makeup, give one more pass over my hair, and breathe somewhere quiet that wasn't filled with smoke.

"Shit!"

Nearly sweeping me clean off my feet was a man who bumped into me, too drunk to see where he was going. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact as I could feel the wind get knocked out of my chest, anticipating an embarrassing and harsh tumble to the ground - but a strong arm wrapped around me, catching me moments before I hit the floor. Whoever it was held me suspended me in their hold, fully supporting my weight, and when I opened my eyes I recognized him as the guy from table eleven. His head was turned to the side, yelling at the drunk man who staggered past the two of us, his jaw clenched.

"You ain't fucking see her?"

My hands rested against the soft, terry cloth material of his pale green polo shirt, tattoos fully covering every inch of his neck that peeked out from around his collar. Realizing that he was still holding me, he slowly lifted me up, my hair swinging against my hips as he planted me on both feet. He asked if I was okay, his arm snaking from around my waist, careful to avoid touching me inappropriately.

I ran my hands through my hair, tossing it over my shoulder and adjusting my dress, pulling it up over my breasts, which only made it begin to ride up over my thighs. "Thank you," I breathed, placing my hand over my heart, "These niggas don't watch where they're going sometimes.."

"These niggas can't hold their drinks, that's all," he attempted to reassure me, his eyes scanning my face. I could tell he was trying to gauge if I was as okay as I had said, but I was almost a hundred percent sure I didn't look the part.

He lingered in front of me, towering over me even in my heels. I was finally able to get a good look at him, yet I still couldn't remember where I recognized him from. He was handsome - dark skin amongst the tattoos that neatly covered his exposed skin, intricate patterns and lines shooting off in all directions across his skin, even down to his palms. We were standing so close, I could smell his cologne, the light scent of green apple and mint dancing across my senses - a subtle intimidating energy radiating off from him.

As nice as his gesture was, I hope he didn't think I was going to strike up some meaningless conversation with him because of it.

"Did you want something?" I asked him, staring up into his eyes. My voice came off harsher than normal, my nerves only worsened by my near tumble and the anxiety that bubbled in my stomach. It slowly made its way up to my chest, making itself home at the bottom of my throat. My heart still raced in my chest - not as fast as before, but still thumping away, pumping almost loud enough that I swore I could hear it in my ears.

"Yeah, actually," my "savior" cleared his throat, like he was anticipating for my response to be different, "I wanted to get a dance from you." He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, the money wrapped tightly with a rubber band. "A private one," he emphasized, gesturing in the direction of the private rooms behind me. "I can make it real sweet for you."

"I don't-"

"Yaya!"

Instinctively looking over my shoulder behind me, I recognized the familiar pitch of Andre's voice.

Even over the loud, slightly obnoxious beat from the song playing at the moment, I could hear him damn near clear as day.

Approaching from the entrance of the club, his eyes were focused on me as he wandered away from his friends, a toothy smile spreading across his face. Dressed in a Palm Angels wool-blend, green bomber jacket and white shirt, a shimmering diamond chain hung around from his neck, spelling out his nickname in bold letters. A black, duffle bag hung off his shoulder, while white Valentino sneakers crushed dollar bills beneath gray soles. He stepped in front of me, the faint scent of weed and Burberry cologne gently blanketing his jacket, the smell slowly surrounding the two of us.

"Hey Ant," I found myself smiling, the nerves that churned in my stomach subtly subsiding for a brief moment.

Licking his bottom lip, he tilted his head to the side, "I was hoping I didn't miss your pretty self dance yet."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "You say that like you don't already know what time I go on. You're a little early tonight, you know?"

"You ain't see that we were in the middle of something?"

Unmoving from his position was the man from before, still waiting for my answer about a dance. He put his hand on Andre's shoulder, which made Andre turn slightly in his direction. Ant paused for a moment, eyeing him up and down before pushing his hand off his shoulder, a smirk weaving its way across his features. I could see that familiar flicker of amusement that flushed Andre's eyes, who briefly glanced at me before back to the man before him.

"Oh, I know," Andre raised his eyebrows, "But it don't look like you were talking about much, honestly. What - you get you a lil section and now you ready to ball out for the night?"

"You talking a lot of shit for a nigga who don't know me."

"And I'll keep talking," Andre stepped fully in front of me, turning his back to me as he sized the man up again, narrowing his eyes, "She's good for the night, nigga. Go find someone else to bother, okay?"

I could both see and feel the disdain and tension that rose between the two of them - and so could a few others who watched the two of them, ready with their phones in hand in case anything decided to happen. At the bar, Giselle watched things closely, drying glasses with a rag in her hand - while a security guard stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, itching for something, anything to happen, ready and willing to throw the both of them out. Kiki eyed all three of us as she gave a lap dance close by, focusing more on us than the man beneath her, who looked like he was starting to get annoyed with her lack of actual dancing.

"And who are you? You don't intimidate me, nigga."

Seeing Andre's jaw clench, I pulled at his arm, grabbing his attention. I could see his shoulders tense, and I pulled him back harder, attempting to defuse the situation before it ballooned into something completely else. It was making me nervous, and everything seemed to lull into a standstill as they stared each other down, the other man seemingly itching, waiting for Ant to say the wrong thing. And knowing Andre - he wasn't about to let someone just talk to him any kind of way - even if he did start it.

And I wasn't about to let Andre star in a two man, testosterone filled, alcohol fueled show for everybody to see - especially his sister.

"Andre, come on," I wrapped my hand around his wrist, pulling him back, "Let it go. It's not that serious."

Looking at me over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes, relaxing his shoulders. Tossing his hands up, he stepped back, "My bad, bruh," he told him, "You got it."

Without another word, the man walked off, leaving Andre and I to ourselves. People returned back to their own business, filling themselves with drinks and food from the kitchen, while they let money slip between their fingertips.

"Now was that necessary?" I asked Andre when he turned to me, wiping the satisfied grin off his face. I crossed my arms over my chest, my hair falling off my shoulders, the ends of my long weave dusting against my lower back.

"Don't act like you were finna give that nigga even a millisecond of your time," he spoke, smirking, swiping his finger underneath my chin. He was right - I wasn't - but I didn't like things like that. Especially when I knew he was better than some cheap display of his ego. I didn't think it was funny.

Sighing at my unamused face, he uncrossed my arms, holding onto my hands. "I'm sorry," he told me, staring down into my eyes, chocolate, dark brown eyes peering back into my own. "I already know what you're thinking - and I know you don't like shit like that."

"You're right," I confirmed, attempting to stand my ground in front of him.

"Besides, I came in here to pay your rent tonight," he smiled, "And whatever any of these niggas think they throwing, I'll double that shit."

I bit my lip, trying to hide the smile that poked at the corners of my lips. Overhead, I heard them calling for me on the speaker, letting me know it was my time to dance. I pulled my hands away from Andre's, noticing how relaxed and calm I felt at the moment, all of the nerves that were just running haywire throughout my body subsiding. I could feel myself blushing the longer we stood this close together, and I shook it off, tossing my shoulders back as I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head.

"Stop flirting with me," I told him, shaking my head.

"Come on. You know you like it."

#＊❝check the pen❞ #ue!newreleases. #*wakedafuckup! #*...bubbling under #*...d-digital dash

[acciopietro]

lonesome love - n.

pairing: newt x gn! reader

summary: newt is one of the first few to arrive in the glade, and you do your best to help him navigate this new life. he has a difficult time adjusting.

word count: 7,576

tw: suicide attempt. also, it’s the maze runner, so like... confused chaos. 

a/n: hi everyone! i am now on SUMMER BREAK BABY which means hopefully time to write. i figured i’d get this one out of the way since its low in demand. side note, i know that james dashner has confirmed newt as gay, so this is gender neutral reader out of respect for that :) btw this is HELLA long and i didn’t even mean it to be. sorry not sorry!

EVER SINCE HE EMERGED FROM the box, you were worried. There was an air of helplessness that dripped from his every word, a sense of melancholy with his every movement as though his very existence was painful. Newt was a very sweet and very thoughtful boy— but he was also very, very sad.

Selfless and humble, Newt tried his best in everything and later on became a wonderful friend to you. You held onto him with every ounce of strength you had, even if it meant holding down the feeling that you had the potential for something more; there were things more important than your measly crush.

Like most Greenie’s, he had been timid at first— keeping his head down and his mouth shut for the most part, doing his job all whilst trying to get answers to all of his questions. It had taken you (who was second-in-command at the time) and Nick (who was first-in-command) the entirety of the boy’s first week, however, to get him to crack a smile. The thing about Newt, though, was that even after he shed the shy layers, he behaved as though he always had a weight on his shoulders, a constant air of dread of every next moment. And that was what worried you.

There were mornings when the two of you would rise early and stand before the closed doors to the Maze, waiting for the earthquaking rumble of their opening. The sun would peek above the walls, the golden light casting over the dewy skin of his face, the glassy sheen of his warm brown eyes glimmering. You’d stare at him, lips slightly pursed, endlessly pondering the reason behind his eagerness to enter the Maze.

Newt would fiddle with the hems of the harness on his chest, tucking and untucking the knives in each pocket. He’d wobble his wrists out at his sides as though to shake off the remnants of sleep before dropping his shoulders with a sigh, turning his head to you and asking, “Sleep okay?”

You’d give a shrug and say some variation of, “As okay as sleeping in a shuckin’ maze can be.”

His lips would twitch up sympathetically. On occasion, if he were in a good mood, he might nudge your shoulder with his and say something like, “Let’s kill a Griever or somethin’ today,” or some kind of joke to try and lighten your mood. Momentarily, it worked. But once you ran into the Maze again, you were reminded of your situation and you started back from square one.

Once a month, you and the other Gladers held bonfires with the intention of sparking some joy within the glade when the new Greenies arrived; it worked, for the most part, especially when Gally would whip-up a drink of unknown contents that loosened your nerves and lifted your spirits.

Newt, however, on his first few bonfires, had a hard time loosening up. He had sat by the edge of the perimeter, an empty mug of Gally’s drink in his hand and his elbows resting on his propped up knees. You kicked his knee with your foot, standing above him with a grin. His warm eyes flickered up to meet yours, brightening at the sight of you.

“What’s up, shank?” you greeted happily, taking a sip of your drink; it was almost bitter, with a hint of something sweet that you assumed had been stolen from Frypan’s food storage. Sitting down beside Newt, your shoulder brushed his and you asked, “What’re you doin’ over here?”

Newt shrugged, turning the empty mug over in his hands. “M’just tired.”

“All that running, huh,” you stated, pursing your lips jokingly. Newt, to your delight, cracked a smile. 

“Someone’s gotta keep up with ya,” he side-eyed you, brown eyes raking over your face for a moment before shifting back down to the empty bottle in his hands. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Y’know what? I am,” you sighed, resting your elbow back on the log of wood the two of you leaned against. You shifted your body to face him, knees tucked in and brushing the side of his thigh. His eyes flickered down to them before meeting your eyes again. “I love the bonfires. Makes things feel nice for a change. It’s less... er... dystopian.”

Newt's shoulders bounced as he chuckled. Glancing back at the other Gladers, he said, “Wish it was always like this.”

“Yeah,” you said gently, eyeing him carefully. His eyes were wistful, shoulders slouched. His frowning lips twitched, and when his eyes traveled back towards you, his brows furrowed.

“What?” he said in response to your staring. Instead of shyly lowering your gaze, you held it, smiling. You shrugged.

“Just lookin’ at you.”

He gulped and glanced at his lap, a pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks. Your smile widened at the reaction you got from him.

“C’mon,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Jerking your head to the other Gladers and getting to your feet, you said, “Let’s fill up that drink of yours, yeah?”

Newt sighed, tilting his chin up to peer up at you. Lips twitching, he got to his feet and breathed, “Yeah, alright.”

You slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He turned red and bowed his head to hide it from you, eliciting a laugh from you and a flutter in your chest. 

“Good that!”

---

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, YOU HAD woken up before the sun. The Glade was glazed with sleep, silver light of the moon brightening up small slivers of darkness among the grass pathways. Even after closing your eyes and snuggling into your blanket, sleep refused to take you back; accepting defeat, you withdrew yourself from your warm cot and stepped outside, slipping your sneakers on unconsciously. 

The Maze Doors were going to open any minute, you thought as you glanced down at your watch. You, Minho, Newt, and the other few runners weren’t due to start running for another few hours, and you wondered how long it took for the Griever’s to go to wherever they went during they day. The rumble of the doors broke you out of your harmless thoughts.

You watched them open, the wind rustling the lush ivy at its edges as the moonlight flooded into the open hall of the maze. You leaned against the wall of the Keeper Hut, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched the walls come to a standstill. Your eyes were still glassy with sleep, drooping a bit as you stared off, but it was a tall figure walking by the Maze doors that perked your interest.

Narrowing your eyes to try and see through the darkness, you watched as the tall figure paused in front of the doors, staring, hesitating. They ran a hand through their hair — you were sure it was blonde — and glanced behind themselves at the rest of the Glade. They took a step closer to the entrance before pausing again, and you, too, took a step closer; squinting, you tried to decipher who it was. When the figure moved again, you were sure it was Newt, solely by his stride. 

And then, without another hesitation, he ran into the Maze; you could see the tightness around his shoulders and figured he wore his harness and other running gear, but couldn’t for the life of you figure out why he would go running so early. The first thought that came to mind was to immediately go in after him, but you reluctantly turned around to go back inside the hut. At the very least, you could get your running gear on.

“Psst!” you whispered at the door of Minho’s room, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe before stepping inside, adjusting the straps of your harness. “Minho!”

No answer. Soft snoring came from the right side of the room, and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness of his space, you saw Minho’s chest rise and fall with his each breath. Hesitant to wake him up, you whispered his name again. He only stirred.

Fed up, you shook his shoulder a bit, whispering his name once more. As though you had brought a flame down to his skin, he shot up, gasping as though he had woken from a nightmare.

“Y/N?” he grumbled, scratching at his neck. “Shuckin’ scared the daylights outta me...”

“Sorry,” you said half-heartedly. “I think Newt just went into the Maze, man.”

“Huh?” he mumbled, tilting his head and squinting up at you through the darkness. 

“I think Newt just ran into the Maze. Like just now.”

“Now?” Minho glanced down at his watch. “Sun’s not even up yet.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m worried ‘bout him.”

“Probably just wants to get a head start today, I dunno,” Minho shrugged, making a move to lean back down into his cot, slipping his blanket back over his chest.

“But why so early? We don’t run for another three, four hours or so,” you gnawed at the corner of your lips. “I think I’m gonna go in after him.”

“Why’re you so worried?” Minho asked.

“I just have a weird feeling,” you said honestly. “I don’t understand why he’d want to go into the Maze so early, ‘specially when we’re gonna be out there all day, y’know?”

“Y’sure it’s not to go and make out with him out there?” 

You flushed and were silently grateful for the darkness so Minho couldn’t see. “If I were gonna go make out with Newt, I certainly would not come in here to let you know first.”

Minho pursed his lips and threw his blanket off of his legs. “Touchè. All right, you’ve convinced me. Give me five minutes, will you?”

You retreated outside of his room while he changed after Minho insisted it’d be “cheating on Newt” for you to see him void of clothes. Tapping your foot with your eyes glued onto the open doors of the Maze, you waited.

When Minho was done, the pair of you silently walked across the Glade and approached the doors, the absence of the howls from the Griever’s offering you a sliver of comfort. Minho, however, paused at the entrance, staring out into the abyss as though the Grievers had not yet gone to bed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, one foot inside of the Maze.

“Now that you mention it... he has been weird that past couple of days. Y’think he’s okay?” he said quietly, brows furrowed. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I hope so,” you replied honestly. “Let’s go find him.”

“Should we split up?” Minho wondered as the pair of you ventured into the Maze, taking your first right and staring up at the ivy-covered stone walls that towered over him. “Cover more ground? We both know the Maze enough not the get lost.”

“Good idea,” you nodded your head. “I’ll take sections one through four, you get five through eight.”

“Yes, General Y/N,” Minho saluted you, to which you playfully rolled your eyes and saluted him back. "I’ll yell if I find him. Meet back at the entrance in an hour or so.”

You were swiftly engulfed by the ominous interior of the Maze, eyes scanning up and down the length of the walls and lines of the pathways. The sun still had not risen, but the chirp of the morning birds reminded you of the time. When your watch began to beep from your old morning alarm, you wondered how long you’d been searching and whether or not Minho had found him or not.

“Newt?” you cupped your palms around your mouth and called out, wondering if perhaps he were nearby. You halted your movement at the rustling sound of leaves, but when more silenced ensued, you continued your strides. You wished you could have tracked his footprints or something of the sort, but the stone floors were too solid for shoes to leave imprints. 

You slowed your pace as you rounded the corner, sure you heard someone speak; could it have been Minho? Had you circled the sections and accidentally made your way back to the center? Steadily moving, you took a few more steps forward.

And then— more rustling. You froze, waiting. A sound that reminded you of a gasp followed, but you were sure it could’ve been the wind. More resulting ensued; you closed your eyes for a moment in an attempt to locate where the sound came from, or at least which direction it was in. For a moment, you wished Minho was with you; he was the better tracker out of the pair of you.

Your head suddenly snapped up to your left, gaze sliding across the edges of the various walls and ledges within the maze. The ivy beneath the walls was teeming with wild leaves and branches, a curtain of lustrous green coating the stone. For a moment, as you stared you were sure you saw something move.

“Newt?” you tried again, your voice losing its strength and becoming small like a child’s. You continued down the corridor, but the sound of a voice had forced you to fall to a halt. You stood by the corner of the corridor, waiting, eyes closed to listen.

“...I don’t know who you people are, but I hope you’re happy,” you heard. It had to be Newt, it sounded like his voice... he sounded strained, out of breath, but him nonetheless. “I hope you get a real buggin’ kick out of watching us suffer. And then you can die and go to hell. This is on you.”

And then, all at once, the sound of fierce rustling of the ivy, a thud, and finally, a slam. You ran around the corner of the corridor and continued down towards the final wall, glimpses of blonde and brown flashing before your eyes; the leaves rustled again, and you saw Newt at the very bottom of the wall, curled up into a ball. The leaves became stagnant once more.

He lay on his side with his leg pulled up, arms wrapped around it; he rocked back and forth, groaning, sobbing. He let out a deep, painful cry that made your chest hurt, and you broke into a sprint, willing your legs to move faster despite the burning of your muscles. He let out another cry of anguish before shouting, “I hate you! I hate you!”

Cursing under your breath, you ran and ran and ran until you reached him, sliding to reach him as fast as you could, despite the stinging of your knees scraping against the stone ground. He hadn’t noticed you yet, eyes squeezed shut, tears pearling out between his lashes.

“Newt,” you said carefully, your breath catching in your throat as you moved to place a hand on the side of his face. His eyes opened, pupils widening in humiliation, before he closed them again. “Hey, hey, hey... let me help you, okay?”

“Just leave me here,” he muttered, his voice cracking. You clenched your jaw, swiping the damp blonde hair off of his forehead. His face ran pale, long lashes brushing his red- tear-stained cheeks. The rising and falling of his chest began to slow, his body becoming less reactive. “No, stop, you... don’t...”

The tears began to pour out of your own eyes, thumbs grazing his cheekbones as though your soothing touch might bring back his energy. Taking a deep breath, you glanced around you as though Minho might magically pop out to help you. You glanced back down at Newt; he had passed out from the pain of his leg, head lolling to the side.

“No, c’mon, Newt,” you babbled as you shook Newt’s shoulders, your movements becoming frantic the longer you laid there. “You gotta wake up, you shank, you can’t do this to me!”

Your quick breaths turned rapid, the more you hyperventilated, the faster your hands trembled against his skin. Desperately, you turned your head to side, and shouted, “MINHO!”, praying it might reach the other side of the Maze, or wherever your friend was.

The silence that emanated from the Maze was unnerving. You took a final glance down at Newt’s closed eyes, his pale face, before you clenched your jaw and got to your feet. Lifting him by his underarms, you slumped him over your back as though you were giving him a piggyback ride, and trudged along the Maze. You were unsure how long it’d take you; Newt was significantly heavier than you expected him to be, and you could barely see which way to turn with the tears clouding your vision.

“Minho!” you shouted again, voice cracking, and found yourself puzzled about how long you’d been walking. What section were you in? How far were you from the Glade? Was Minho even nearby? “Minho!”

“Y/N?” came Minho’s voice. You could’ve fallen to your knees in relief at the sound of it. “S’that you?”

“Follow my voice!” you cried, tightening your grip on Newt as it began to grow more and more challenging to carry him. You only stepped forward once more before falling to the ground, lowering Newt as gently as you could before you collapsed over his torso, sobs racking your body from the stress of your situation. “Over here!”

“Did you find him?” Minho called back. He was getting closer, and soon enough, you could hear his footsteps racing towards you. “I couldn’t find anything, I think he just...”

He halted, skidding to a stop right at the end of the passage. You lifted your head, lower lip trembling, and Minho suddenly sprinted towards the pair of you, falling to his knees.

“What...” he murmured. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you bawled. “He was talking to someone, one of the Beetle Blades I think... I think he...oh, Jesus, Minho, I think he jumped!”

“From the ivy?” Minho froze, thinking, before his face dropped. Eyes darting down to Newt’s face, he placed a hand on his friends shoulder and mumbled, “God, please tell me you didn’t.”

“He’s breathing, but his leg, it’s... I think he might’ve broken it,” you sniffed, staring down at him. “I’m sure Clint and Jeff can fix him up, but... I can’t carry him anymore.”

“Okay, let’s just... let’s just rest a second,” Minho breathed heavily, sitting down. You could see he was trying to stay calm, but even you could see the way his body was tensed in his panic, his muscles like a cocked gun. “He’s alive. He’ll hurt more if we try to carry him in the state we’re in, we gotta take a breather for a second.”

“Okay,” you stammered out, unable to catch your breath. Running your hands through Newt’s hair, you glanced up an Minho unsurely. “Oh, god...”

“It’s okay,” Minho told you, but you could tell he didn’t believe his own words. “He’s gonna be fine. Just a broken ankle... or leg... could be worse. Bright side is that he’s not stung, he’s alive, he’s breathing, heart’s beating, and... shuck, y’think he’s waking up?”

“Huh?” your head snapped down. Newt was stirring. “Oh Jesus, his leg probably hurts so bad!”

“No shit,” Minho grumbled. “We gotta get out of this shuckin’ Maze.”

“Newt?” you said gently, brushing his hair softly and trying to ease him out of sleep. His eyes rolled beneath his eyelids before they peeled open, squinting at the light of the world. You hadn’t even realized that the sun had risen. Brown eyes stared up at you, almost in disbelief.

“What...?” he murmured almost incoherently, glancing around him, before he suddenly grimaced, hissing through his teeth.  

“His shuckin’ leg,” Minho muttered, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands. “Okay, Y/N, get his other arm. We gotta try to not put pressure on his left leg—”

“The shuck are you doing?” Newt slurred as the pair of you frantically moved around him, unsure how to lift him up. His eyelids fluttered as though he were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Tryna carry you back to the shuckin’ Glade!” you said frantically, wiping tears from your face. You caught glimpses of his mellow, ebony eyes through his lashes, the leftover tears managing to slip down his cheeks and roll soullessly down his jaw. Running a hand over his forehead, you frantically went on, “The hell are you, doin’, goin’ into the shuckin’ maze at the ass crack of dawn—?”

“Slim in, Y/N,” Minho said quickly. You shot him a broken look, jaw clenched and body tense. He frowned, getting to his feet and grabbing one of Newt’s arms. “Let’s just get him back.”

“I can walk,” Newt mumbled, his words sounding like one big jumble of nonsense. Ashen-faced, he shut his eyes and mumbled something more as you grabbed his other arm; Newt’s hand flexed and grasped at your forearm, fingers sinking desperately into your skin as though trying to hold onto consciousness.

“No, you can’t,” Minho fired as you felt Newt’s grip on your forearm loosen. “Y/N, come on. Let’s get out of this damn maze.”

---

IT WAS GRUELING TO HAVE to exist in Newt’s absence. The poor boy had been passed out in the Med-Hunt for three days now, and although flushes of color had returned to his once-gaunt skin, the sight of him laying so unnervingly still on the white cot made your stomach turn. Nick cut you some slack, knowing how close you held the boy to your heart, but after day two, the Glade needed you to get back to work; however, the last thing you wanted to do was go back into the Maze.

“How’s he doin’?” Minho asked grimly late that afternoon, sauntering into the Med-Hunt with a frown. You took your head out of your hands, pursing your lips and turning to face him from where you idly sat beside the cot. You shrugged. “Still lyin’ around like a shank, huh?”

He was joking of course, but his tone lacked the usual humor it carried. His dark eyes casted over Newt, fingers fidgeting at his side as though he were anxious for him to wake from his coma. You stared at Minho for a moment, his disheveled appearance and untidy hair; he had just gotten back from running. 

“The swellings gone down in his ankle,” you muttered, sitting back in your chair and running a hand down your face. Minho gave an almost inaudible hum as a response, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles of his forearms flexing.

“Hope he’s okay,” he muttered. “Shank dropped us down two runners.”

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just feel like as soon as I leave, he’ll wake up, and—”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Minho said carefully. “I get it. Not like I’m itchin’ to get back in the Maze after the other day.”

You pursed your lips in a tight smile of understanding before turning back down to look at Newt again. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, you mumbled, “I don’t understand why he would...” 

You trailed off, unable to say the words. Minho hung his head.

“It’s this damn Glade,” he answered tacitly. “The Maze. Easy to feel helpless in here, y’know? When you’ve been stuck here for so long...”

He didn’t need to say more. You sighed, moving your hand away from Newt’s hair and settling it on your lap. Minho casted a sympathetic look down at you before pushing himself off the doorframe and extended a hand to you.

“Let’s go get something to eat, okay?” he offered. You only stared at his hand, hesitant to leave. “You can come back right after. Frypan’s making breakfast for dinner.”

You heard your stomach grumble; you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. With another sigh, you spared Newt’s peacefully sleeping figure a sad glance before taking Minho’s hand and getting to your feet. 

Frypan was elated to see you walk through the door, grinning at you as you and Minho approached. He served you a little extra bacon than the others as though he were thanking you for coming by, and you ate happily with Minho, Nick, and the other Gladers. 

You and Minho kept you lips sealed about what actually happened in the Maze. When others asked, you both stuck to the same story: that Newt had taken a wrong turn and taken a really, really bad fall. The other Gladers, most of which who hadn’t ever stepped foot in the Maze, believed it for the most part. Alby had his suspicions, the cynic, but he didn’t dare ask you questions. He knew you weren’t talking.

“Hey, Y/N, Minho,” a voice called from behind you as you swallowed the last of your meal. It was Jeff, one of the Med-Jacks, out of breath and leaning down on his knees. “Newt’s up.”

“He is?” your head whipped up, swinging your arms around the wooden bench you sat out and began power-walking in the direction of the Med-Hut. Minho followed suit, excusing the pair of you from the table before jogging to match your pace.

An abundance of thoughts dashed through the walls of your mind was you approached the Med-Hunt, Minho at your side and Jeff following at your heels. Would Newt want to see you? Would Newt want to see anybody? You couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling like.

When you burst through the door, stumbling slightly on the doorstep when Minho practically crashed into your back, Newt’s honey colored eyes flickered up at the pair of you. They were glassy, rose colored cheeks standing out starkly from the new-found paleness of the rest of his skin.

You let out an exhale, staring at him as Jeff walked around to the other side of the bed, sitting down on the small chair.

“His leg’ll be fine,” he told you and Minho, gesturing to where Newt’s left was propped up. “S’healing real nicely. Might— er— might have a bit of a limp, I think.”

You watched Newt clench his jaw at this, his eyes downcast, his chin tucked into his chest as though he were afraid to meet your or Minho’s eyes. Minho gave a sigh of relief at Jeff’s words.

“That’s good, ain’t it?” He said. “I mean, not the limp, but that it’s healing nicely... uhm...” 

Minho trailed off, sort of rocking on his toes as though he felt uncomfortable. Newt wouldn’t look at either of you; he clenched his jaw again and shifted around where he lay on the cot.

“How ya feeling?” you asked hesitantly, stepping further into the room and taking a seat on the edge of the cot. Newt still wouldn’t look at you. He gave a lackluster shrug. “Do you... do you want somethin’ to eat or somethin’?”

“No,” he muttered. “M’fine.”

“Y’sure?” Minho asked. “Fry made bacon with dinner... Gally’s gorging himself and someone’s gotta take it from ‘em.”

Newt looked like he wanted to crack a smile, but stayed solemn-faced and shook his head. “M’good. Thanks.”

Minho pursed his lips and nodded. You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. Newt’s demeanor implied that he didn’t want either of you there, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave him.

“I’ll, uh...” Jeff awkwardly paused. “I’ll let you guys have a minute...”

Jeff hastily left the room, and you were slightly envious of him to easily escape the awkwardness. Minho slumped his hands into his pockets, still standing by the doorway, and you stared at your hands in your lap.

“Y’don’t have to stay here, y’know,” Newt muttered. “You can go back to whatever you were doing.”

“We wanted to see you,” Minho told him. “T’make sure you were all right.”

“Well, I am,” Newt said shortly. He said nothing more, still avoiding both of your eyes. You made quick eye contact with Minho. He pursed his lips again.

“Uhm, okay, well...” he swallowed. “I gotta go talk to Alby about somethin’... er... get some good sleep, okay?”

“’kay,” Newt mumbled. Minho spared you a final glance before backing up out of the room, leaving just you and Newt to sit in silence. Newt was visibly uncomfortable, fidgeting around, eyes flitting to everywhere but you.

“Y’know you can talk to me,” you finally uttered. You weren’t sure if he looked up at you; you kept your eyes cast down. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have an outlet here.”

Newt said nothing for a moment. When you finally glanced up at him, he was staring at you, his face downcast. Finally, after a pregnant pause, he said, “I know.”

“I really care about you,” you went on. “Anyway I can help you, I... just let me know, okay? Getcha back on your feet again, y’know?”

“Well... foot,” Newt joked. You blinked before smiling at him. Frowning again, he said, “I erm... I couldn’t think of an alternative. Felt too trapped in here.”

“I get it,” you nodded your head sympathetically. “I feel it, too. But... I’m glad you’re still here.”

His lip quirked up. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” you smiled at him. Reaching out to grab his hand, you asked, “Do you really not want me to bring you dinner?”

He pursed his lips. “No.”

“I’ll go get you some.”

---

WITHIN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, word had spread of Newt’s injuries. Only you, Minho, and Alby knew of the true events of the what happened in the Maze, however to the other Gladers, Newt had simply ‘injured his ankle whilst running’. They accepted it and didn’t ask questions, which was, in the end, better for everyone.

He was back on his feet quicker than Clint and Jeff anticipated, hobbling around on a pair of make-shift crutches before he was finally able to put some weight on his ankle. He wouldn’t be able to be a Runner anymore, that was obvious, but he had taken a place behind Nick and Alby as a sort of third-in-command. Aside from that, he’d hang around the gardens, watching the Track-Hoes work, or even in the kitchen, helping Frypan cut up fruits and vegetables for the next day. He found new purpose aside from running. 

He still woke up to bid you goodbye. While you, as always, were in your running gear, Newt wore his normal clothes, even sometimes in his pajamas. He’d sleepily rub his eyes and give you a dopey grin, gazing out at the maze. His eyes were no longer eager when he stared at the great stone walls, but a combination of fearful and satisfied. He had done his time.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly one morning, shrugging his hands in his pockets. He was off the crutches now, although it seemed he would be limping forever. “How you feelin’?”

“All right,” you replied, staring at face, cheeks pink that you assumed were from sleep. “Kinda sore.”

“M’sorry,” he told you. “You, er... you can always take a rest day.”

“Nah,” you sighed, adjusting the straps on her harness, only to find they were twisted. A rumble sounded, the doors of the maze slowly diverging and revealing the trodden stone path of the first corridor of the maze, ivy lining its walls and floor, a few beetle blades skittering away from the entrance. “Told Minho he could take the day off... shuck, this damn harness always gets screwed up...”

“Let me help,” Newt offered, and without waiting for a response from you, he stepped forward and touched the straps, fiddling around with them to try and disentangle them. His fingers kept brushing the skin of your neck as he adjusted them for you, digits fumbling along the canvas fabric of the harness. “Is that good?”

“Yup,” you said, glancing down at them before up at him. He was standing closer now, less than a foot away from you, golden hair tousled over his forehead and honey-brown eyes shifting between every pore on your face and the grass by his feet every few seconds. He seemed nervous, you thought. Hm. “Thanks, Newt.”

“You’re—” he cleared his throat and paused. “You’re welcome.”

He said nothing more, licking his lips and swallowing. Lips twitching, you found yourself smirking. “You okay? You look flustered.”

“Oh, oh yeah, I’m— fine!” Newt fiddled with something in his pocket. “I— yes.”

“Mmhm.”

“I have something for you,” he said, and from his pocket he withdrew a small envelope with your name on it in sweet, crooked handwriting. You narrowed your brows.

“Newt...”

“I had it from before,” he jerked his head. “Y’know, everything. But... everything in it still stands, so... figured I’d give it to you.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tentatively taking it from him. He nodded, giving a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Read it on your break, yeah? Come find me afterwards and, uh... let me know what you think.”

“O...kay,” you said, slipping it into your bag. “Will do. Wish me luck in there.”

“Always am,” shrugging his hands into his pockets, he gave another one of those soft smiles of his, apples of his cheeks round and glowing golden from the heat of the rising sun. Jogging backwards, you gave him a false salute before disappearing into the maze. 

---

AN HOUR OR SO INTO your run, you took a break to sit down in one of the dead-ends to eat the lunch Frypan had so kindly packed for you. Sinking your teeth into the bright red honey crisp apple, you slipped Newt’s now creased and wrinkled envelope from out of your pocket, staring at the scrawl of your name as the paper rested on your lap. Holding the apple between your teeth, you tore opened the letter; out fell a very small string bracelet, the colors blue, pink, and purple twisted together with knots and braids. You grinned and tied it on your wrist before sliding the worn parchment out of the envelope and unfolding it, your dirty, calloused hands clutching the sides. With a deep breath, you began to read.

Y/N,

I’ve never written a letter before. Not that I could’ve remembered if I wrote one before this. I hope this one is a good one. Chances are you’ll never get this, since I probably won’t have the guts to give it to you. Truth is, I just want to talk to you. Even though you can’t respond. Because this is a piece of paper. Okay, this is off to a bad start. Let me start over.

When I got to the Glade, you were the first to really welcome me here. You make this place feel like home. I’m appreciative for all you have done for me. I’m grateful for having met you and having the honor of becoming your friend. I wish I had the guts to ask you for more. Because in the time that I’ve spent with you, that’s all I’ve wanted.

I miss you when your gone. I lose my mind when we get separated when running. I pray you sit next to me during mealtimes and my heart skips a beat when you bump your shoulder into mine. I love that you like to watch the sunrise every morning and I love the way the hair by your ears curls up after a run. I love how your eyes crinkle when you laugh and I love that you hum to yourself during the bonfires. My face is getting warm as I write this simply by the thought of you reading this. I’m kind of rambling at this point. I guess it’s sort of pointless since you probably won’t read this.

Just know I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for anyone. That I can remember, at least. I wish I could be suave and poetic with this letter, but I’m kind of just spilling my guts everywhere, so I hope the message gets across the right way. I love you, Y/N. Thank you for brightening my life. 

Love,  Newt.

Ignoring the two tears rolling down your cheeks, you held the letter close to your chest and curled your back, resting your forehead to your knees. Your heart was fluttered, stomach erupting with butterflies. You still had to run the length of the rest of the Maze, but you found yourself counting down the minutes until you could go back to the glade.

---

NEWT SPENT THE MAJORITY OF the rest his afternoon stressed and anxious. In the midst of his work in the gardens, he’d zone out, pondering the endless possibilities of how you might react to the vulnerability within the letter he gave you. He tried his best to make it out to be no big deal, and that the letter was something trivial, but it was harder to relax now that he knew that you knew the truth. The idea of that very fact seemed scarier than anything in the maze. 

“Would you stop fidgeting like that, you shank?” Minho had grumbled as the pair of them walked towards the kitchen, where Frypan and the other cooks were starting to serve out dinner. Newt stopped wringing his hands together and dropped his hands to his sides, deeply inhaling through his nose. “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.”

Minho gave a scoff. “Yeah, okay. And the Greenie doesn’t klunk his pants every three hours.”

“Seriously,” Newt lied through his teeth. “M’fine.”

“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain Runner who gave me a day off?” Minho hinted, nudging his shoulder.

Newt rolled his eyes, his gaze unconsciously darting towards the open doors of the Maze. Y/N and the other runners should be back any minute now.

“What’d you do?” Minho asked after Newt only gave silence to his last question. “C’mon, man, just tell me. No doubt they’ll tell me later, anyways. We’re, like, best friends, y’know, so I’m sure they’ll just tell me everything—”

“I gave them a letter,” Newt blurted finally, face red and jaw clenched. Minho raised a brow. 

“Wow, the jealous tactic does work on you,” Minho mused. “Okay, well... what’s the big deal about a letter?”

“The big deal, Minho,” Newt stopped walking altogether, jolting towards Minho and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Is that that letter just so happened to be me spilling my guts to them about how I feel!”

Minho blinked. “Isn’t that good?”

“No!” Newt shrilled, dropping his hands and starting up his stride again. “No, it’s not good. Because no they’re going to think I’m— like— obsessed with them, or that I’m weird and then they won’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“But... you are obsessed with them.”

“Not the point. That is so far from the point,” Newt ran his palm over his face. He glanced back at the south doors behind him; he watched Ben and Oscar, the newest Runner, run out of the doors. “They’re gonna want to talk about it. And... I’m worried that it’ll be them sitting be down and saying, oh, that was so nice of you, but we’re just friends and then things will never be the same.”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Minho said carefully. Newt glanced back at the doors; you came jogging out of it, pausing at outside of the doors just as they began to rumble closed. Newt clenched his jaw and whipped his head back around. “They for sure feel the same.”

Newt shook his head. “No, I can already see it. Maybe if I avoid them, I can prolong the inevitable rejection I’m going to face.”

“With that attitude, they’ll turn to me instead,” Minho joked, to which Newt slapped him on the arm. Wincing, Minho chuckled. “Sensitive topic, my bad.”

Newt hastily glanced behind him again; you were striding towards the kitchen with Ben and Oscar flanked at your sides, chest heaving. You ran a hand through your hair and, at the sight of Newt, lifted said hand in the form of a wave. He gave a half-assed wave in return before whipping around again.

“Damn,” he hissed. “I should just... I should—”

“You should turn around and go makeout with them or somethin’,” Minho said casually. Pink in the face, Newt gave him a funny look. “That’s what I would do in this situation.”

“I can’t do that, you shucking idiot,” Newt grumbled. “I’d rather a Griever to this.”

“Hey, Newt!” your voice called from behind him. Newt cursed, pursing his lips, and sent a look at Minho. He smirked and nudged his side. Sighing and bracing himself, Newt turned and waved again, halting in his spot.

“Good luck, Romeo,” Minho patted him twice on the shoulder. “See you at dinner... if there’s any left by the time you guys are done having a steamy session of—”

“Shut it!” Newt hissed and shoved him away. Laughing, Minho jogged off. Your face was shiny from the day of running, hair curled up at the ears, but her cheeks were flushed and your teeth were flashed in a wide grin. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What a day,” you sighed, falling into step with him, shoulder brushing his every few steps. “Should’ve given myself the day off, not that shank Minho.”

Newt allowed himself to crack a grin. “Take the day off tomorrow.”

“Nah, Alby’ll have my head, I’m sure of it,” you smiled. “It’s okay. Got all night to reset my body.”

Newt said nothing, staring at the kitchen ahead as the pair of you walked. You kept shooting him glances, licking your lips as though preparing to speak. Newt swallowed anxiously.

“I, uh... I read your letter during my break,” you finally said, and his breath caught in his throat, heart leaping.

“Oh,” was all he could muster up the energy to say. You were silent for a moment, before you stopped walking. He, too, paused, and glanced up at you; your e/c eyes were glossy, brows tilted up as you stared at him. He blinked.

“It was really...uhm...” you paused searching fro the words. Newt felt his insides shrivel up.

“Yeah, you don’t... you don’t have to say anything,” he muttered. “I know that it was... I... you can spare me the gentle rejection.”

You furrowed your brows. “I was going to say beautiful.”

Newt glanced back up into your eyes, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “Oh.”

“And I wasn’t going to give you a gentle rejection, either,” you told him. “I just... I’ve never really done this before, so... I, erm... I really loved the letter, Newt. Made me cry.”

“Oh!” Newt’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to make you cry! I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good! Good crying!” You reassured him, to which he gave a nervous laugh of relief in response. “I... wrote one back.”

You handed him a small scrap of paper, no doubt torn from a paper in the map-room. Written in a scratchy scrawl were the four words I love you, too. Newt’s heart picked up its pace, heat rushing towards his cheeks in a fiery frenzy. He almost couldn’t tear his eyes away from it before he remember you were there in front of him, and he let his eyes lock on yours. 

“You do?” he asked, to which you smiled. He let out a breath of relief. “Oh, jeez...”

You laughed. “Mines not as lovely as yours, but... hope the message is there.”

“Oh, it’s there,” he said, his lips now curving up into an uncontrollable smile, beaming from ear-to-ear. “You’re wearing the bracelet. Sorry, I don’t really know how to make them. Frypan tried teaching me, but I’m not so good and this was already my third or fourth try so I was—”

You leaned over and pecked him quickly on the lips, shutting him up. When you pulled back, you saw his eyes were wide, lips parted.

“It’s okay,” you grinned and glanced down a the bracelet, touching the string with your other hand. Newt watched you, warm eyes sparkling. “I like it this way.”

“I really like you,” Newt blurted, staring, the apples of his cheeks glowing bright red. Heat crept up your neck.

“I really like you, too,” you smiled, looming forwards, rocking on your toes. “We should probably go eat before Gally takes everything.”

“Yeah,” Newt said, although he didn’t move. You stared at him, eyes flickering around his face, watching as his gaze stayed flitting between your eyes and your lips. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Do it, then,” you muttered. He gulped, inching closer, and you felt his nose brush yours. He paused, eyes closed, breathing you in, before he leant down and pressed his mouth to yours. His arms snaked around you, melting against your skin, your fingertips grazing the back of his neck in a quiet, constant motion. 

Something whacking against your back forced you to jolt away, on guard; it was Ben and Oscar, giggling and now running away. Flaring your nostrils, you yelled after them, “ASSHOLES!”

Newt was bright red, chest rising and falling faster than you’d ever seen it. You glanced back at him, shyly smiling. Jerking your head towards the kitchen, you said, “C’mon.”

“Okay,” he said immediately, falling into step with you. Hands brushing and cheeks red, the pair of you walked towards the kitchen. Somewhere along the way, your hands found each other and held on tight.

---

taglist:

@niallhoransupremacy @childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll​

a/n: some of my description of minho might be overly descriptive cuz he’s so hot and i can’t help it sorry sorry. also this is so unedited its not even funny. not a single proofread im sorry im SORRY.

#newt #the maze runner #newt x reader #newt x y/n #newt x you #maze runner fic #maze runner fandom #maze runner fanfiction #newt fanfic #thomas brodie sangster #minho tmr #thomas maze runner

[twst-drabbles]

Azul 6

Summary: Just when Azul managed to lure you into a contract for your dorm, his contracts go missing.

(Eldritch AU once more because I can. This book would have been so short with the eldritch prefect there. Most of it probably would’ve been spent in Azul’s point of view as he obsessively investigates where his precious contracts have gone.)

A far off blast shook the very foundation of the Octavinelle dorm, rousing every student sleeping within up. Whatever dreams they may have had were ripped away from them in that moment. Curiosity was what powered some their bones to get up.

Curiosity for some, dread for most others. Azul managed to keep that under his skin, but it skittered still. He stands to lose quite a bit after all. Old habits take time to cut. They have to bleed after all, leak out over time. So, Azul kept his panic at bay, driving away scenarios that threaten to consume him. For his own sake, Azul pushed himself out of bed and checked out the more important places.

But already, the scene was strange.

The lights were never this dim, never did shadows stretch out this far into the hall. But Azul ventured forward still. Past the students sleepily walking towards the source of the sound, past the ones walking the other away with quivering hunched backs, past the ones that murmured and whispered to a friend that was not present.

A thin needle of cold pierced through his tamed veins. He can hear the sound of the sea, of currents flowing in and around him in a song familiar to all folks born in the sea. But Azul was too deep into the building, surrounded by too many walls and pillars to ever properly hear that sound.

And he was right next to his most precious room. The room where power was always given to him, where letters and paper come together to become another layer on his crafted mask.

The vault was missing. It wasn’t opened, it wasn’t blown to little metal bits embedded in the shelves and seats. It was simply gone. The entire wall became a tunnel, a maw with crumbling stone and loose wires for teeth, leading directly into the sea he can hear so well.

Gone was the vault, and with it, his contracts.

Grim gritted his teeth as he leaped forward, attempting to swipe the contract with his name on it. The anemone wagged about on his head as you stepped to the side with the greatest of ease. He honestly doesn’t understand why you even bothered to come back to Leona’s room with these in your hands. You should’ve destroyed them already! What’s holding you back?

“Come on!” Grim jumped again as you leafed through the large stack, “Rip up my contract already! I want this dumb anemone thing off my head!”

Nobody will take him seriously as long as he has this sea thing on his head. Do you really want the Great Grim to continue suffering like this? Your partner?

He readied his next leap, adjusting his legs for the greatest bounce you’ll ever see, but then you lightly placed a palm over his vision. You only let him see you through the gaps. You gave a smile, a most gentle smile.

A smile one gives when you’re lowering the cold body of a most hated enemy into the gave.

“Grim,” you spoke, voice ringing clear in his ears, gripping his brain, “let me have my fun, will you?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #drabble #twst-drabbles exclusive #octavinelle #azul #azul ashengrotto #eldritch au #reader insert

[yuuniee]

— A New Beginning —

A/N: DUN DU DU DU DUNNNN!!! WAKE UP EVERYONE A NEW SHIP HAS DROPPED!! :)) (/hj) No, seriously, my brain worms just awakened and I just HAD to write this out! By the way, I’m really sorry if they are out of character,, 😭

💚 Mellow and Leroy belongs to @fumikomiyasaki :3

On a bitterly cold and blustery morning, the lone figure of Mellow walked into the school. He hastily adjusted his glasses and smoothed out his rumpled clothes, berating himself for trying to stop yet another fight between Henry and Leroy, and being late for the very first time in his academic career. With each step towards his classroom, he felt the biting chill of the winter air seeping through his thin layers of clothing, causing him to shiver.

‘Just perfect…’ He muttered under his breath as he checked his schedule and realized with disappointment that his first class of the day was Alchemy. Wincing at the thought of spending hours in a freezing laboratory, he trudged towards the changing room to retrieve his lab coat. The hallways were eerily quiet, except for the distant echoes of students rushing to their classes. As he slipped on his lab coat, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift away from the present moment, already dreading the rest of this cold day ahead of him.

He walked towards the laboratory with his head down, dreading the inevitable confrontation with an angry Crewel. In his distracted state, he didn’t notice the person coming towards him and ended up bumping into them, causing their papers to scatter on the ground.

“Ouch!” A girl's voice exclaimed. “Ah, I knew it... I shouldn’t have stayed up so late to finish my assignments...”

Mellow’s glasses were foggy, but he managed to make out the figure in front of him. Black hair with lavender tips, a red-purple armband, and the uniform of Night Raven College... He silently prayed that it wasn’t who he thought it was.

The girl quickly sat up and gathered her things as Mellow took off his glasses to wipe them clean.

“Are you okay?” She asked timidly, offering her hand to help him up. “I’m really sorry for running into you. I was trying to find class 1-B and ended up being late.”

When Mellow put his glasses back on, he was met with a surprise. The person in front of him was none other than Vil’s sister, Vivienne Schönheit, in flesh and blood.

“I-I…” He stuttered, caught off guard. He couldn’t help but stare at her with wide eyes.

“Are you feeling alright?” Vivienne asked, tilting her head curiously.

He only nodded and gathered his things, avoiding eye contact as he kept his gaze on the ground. But then, he noticed that she was also helping him gather his belongings. She handed him some papers and stood up.

“I don’t remember seeing you here before.” She said. “This is actually my second day here.”

He had heard rumors about her being transferred here from the rival school, Royal Sword Academy.

“Are you new here too?” She asked, tilting her head to the side and snapping him out of his thoughts.

Mellow shook his head and attempted to speak.

“I’m not… Just… nervous.” He replied, stuttering slightly.

She sighed and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can just stay in your dorm.” She suggested. She took off one of her gloves and stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his cheek. “Your face is really red…”

His immediate reaction was to jump back at her touch. Her hand was warm, gentle, and soft.

She apologized quickly, fiddling with her light purple shawl as she spoke. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if it was okay to touch your face like that…”

“It’s fine…” He stuttered. “I-I’m not bothered by it, uhh…”

“Vivienne.” She replied, dusting off her shawl and introducing herself. “My name is Vivienne Schönheit from the Pomefiore dorm. But based on your reaction, I assume you already know who I am.” She giggled, then realized she forgot to introduce herself earlier. “Oh my, I was so flustered that I forgot to introduce myself…”

He shyly smiled and gazed at her.

“M-my name is...Mellow.” He said softly. “Mellow Mildew from Monsville dorm.”

The girl in front of him bowed respectfully.

“I’m very delighted to make your acquaintance, Mellow!” She exclaimed before hugging him tightly. After letting go, she looked into his eyes and said, “You’re really cold though… Here, take my shawl.”

Her movements were like the delicate fluttering of a butterfly, quick and graceful, as she removed her shawl and draped it over him. Her touch was gentle and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold day. He let out a small yelp and blushed even more.

As Mellow stood there, flustered and wrapped in Vivienne’s shawl, he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Here he was, a shy and introverted student, suddenly thrust into an unexpected encounter with Vil’s sister, a girl that was the exact opposite of him, a girl known for her generousness and heart of gold by all Twisted Wonderland. His heart raced in his chest, and his mind struggled to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing.

Vivienne, seemingly unfazed by his reactions, flashed him another warm smile before adjusting her own coat.

“I hope the shawl helps.” She said softly. “You looked like you could use a bit of extra warmth.”

Mellow nodded mutely, unable to form any coherent words. He couldn’t help but be struck by how different Vivienne was compared to her brother. While Vil exuded an air of power and authority, Vivienne radiated kindness and approachability. It was almost as if they were two sides of the same coin.

Realizing that they were both running late for their respective classes, Mellow took Vivienne’s hand in his and began leading her towards the direction of their classrooms. The second he grabbed her hand sent a jolt of electricity through him, causing his cheeks to flush even brighter than before.

As they hurried through the empty hallways, Mellow found himself stealing glances at Vivienne whenever he could. Her black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of shadows, contrasting beautifully against her fair complexion. Her eyes held a mischievous sparkle that hinted at an adventurous spirit beneath her demure demeanor.

With a shaky hand, he pointed towards the direction of Classroom 1-B. She tilted her head curiously, studying his nervous demeanor before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“This is my way of saying ‘thank you’ for bringing me here.” She beamed at him. “Goodbye, for now.”

His stuttering reply was barely audible as she knocked on the classroom door. But just as she was about to enter, the shrill sound of the bell rang out, signaling the end of class.

“Oh dear,” She sighed regretfully. “It seems I’m very late.”

Despite her lateness, she pushed open the door without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Mellow stood frozen in shock, his hand pressed to his racing heart. Suddenly, a voice called out to him.

“Yo, Mellow!”

He turned his head in confusion, but there was no one in sight. He scanned the area until suddenly, Leroy appeared right in front of him with an ear-to-ear grin.

“L-Leroy!” He exclaimed, taking a step back in surprise.

“Hehe, you’re blushing like crazy.” The taller guy teased, playfully messing up his hair. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend.”

Feeling embarrassed, Mellow looked away and tried to hide his face.

“Or maybe something more?” The taller guy smirked and chuckled.

“Sh-shut up!” Mellow snapped, turning away from him in frustration.

But in reality, he did make a new friend indeed…

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #pomefiore oc #vivienne schönheit #twst oc x oc #oc x oc

[writingamongther0ses]

Word Search

Thanks for the tag, @thewritingpart and @asher-writes

forgive (Shared Song)

Lake at least had to try. He ducked his head back into the barrack. “I wonder if a love potion will convince her to forgive me.”

memory (Shared Song)

The last note was quiet. Flare groaned, landing in front of Lake. The memory still haunted her- of being tricked by her parents’ own song. “You cheated on me, remember?”

broken (Heartbeat)

When Liza decided to try the east hall light and saw Rex's leering face, she let out a scream and jabbed the east door hard enough that she was sure for a minute that she had broken her finger.

forever (The Devil’s Waiters)

But Lacie was not as wise. Blinded by her own greed and the idea of easy riches, she took the dice and threw. They spun for what felt like forever. Then they finally stopped on…

pressure (Heartbeat)

Half the issue was some pressure points where the guitar had been smashed. She would need to find a new casing. But, she told Rex, if Kitty was careful and didn't put too much pressure on certain areas, it would hold up. He nodded eagerly and she couldn't resist a smile at the cuteness.

shine (Bride of Loki)

So far from what she saw in the ship’s doorway, Baldar HQ was the same blue and white that the ship was. Overhead, hover cars zoomed past signs pronouncing Baldar's greatness. It was cold. Guards, wearing white body armor with blue eyes and ears that looked like mice's, patrolled about. Their white guns gave a threatening shine that made dread curl through her.

tear(s) (Heartbeat)

She threw the article at him, hot tears starting to roll down her cheeks. The article floated down to the floor, revealing a picture of ten-year-old Liza Dorado under a headline.

internal (Hell’s Studio)

"I have a theory, though," the director continued, snapping the toon out of his internal monologue. He steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips. After a moment of pause, he lowered his hands back to the desk. "Walt's been transformed, hasn't he? And you've been upstairs helping him adjust to this new world. I think she realized that your attention was elsewhere and took the opportunity to return to her rat's nest on Level 9."

question (Heartbeat)

A question, the one burning in her mind since she had returned from Vincent, tugged at her. "...What if I decided I hated him and wanted him dead?" Liza asked slowly.

hand(s) (Bad End)

All of it was wet due to the weather around the town, but there were clearly layers. MA pulled her hands out of her pockets for the first time, immediately feeling the condensation stick to her hands, but set that aside to start pushing the posters up, doing her best to not brush against the rusty staples and pins that hung the posters up. There was no need for a tetanus shot at this moment. Faces and words, blurred by weather and time, stared up at her.

laugh(ing) (Bride of Loki)

She was unaware of Sigyn rolling on the floor, laughing her head off. "She's got you there." The goddess said after managing to calm.

I’ll tag, with no pressure, @stormharbors, @aye-write, @lottieiswriting, @raevenlywrites, and @thewritingpart to find bail, pay, friend, kid, holiday.

#tag game #writeblr #wip #Shared Song #Bad End #Heartbeat #Bride of Loki #The Devil's Waiters #Hell's Studio

[tomiokasensei]

DAKI V. NEZUKO

#knyedit #kny #knysource #kimetsu no yaiba #kny-network #kamado nezuko #daki #kny daki #demon slayer #shounenedit #animeedit #dailyanimatedgifs #dailyanime #fyanimegifs #anisource #m*jifs #breakingsasuke #the lighting of this moment was so dreadful in some moments so adjusting layers was tricky on some frames lol #and of course my daughter finally shows up to kick some ass i love her~! ! ! #and i don't know if the tags work as normally as they should so if this doesn't show up in 3hrs i am reposting XP

[bloodycassian]

anon request - READER X AZRIEL - sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you want! I got a bit carried away in my own idea of Azriel being supportive but protective at the same time!

some hurt/comfort with Azriel where he and the reader get in a huge fight over protecting Elain (like they travel to a different court and Azriel is overprotective) and then the reader goes scouting to also cool down a bit and they get ambushed, the reader gets injured and the mating bond snaps. Hope it's not too much trouble!!

Elain was absurdly still as the conversation played out. Conversation being a loose term for the shouting happening around her. You didn’t leave her side though, even though your anger flourished while they spoke as if she wasnt there. Azriel was packing her things, shoving them haphazardly into a bag. The bag that Feyre had given her from their first trip down to the markets after Elain had started acting somewhat normal again. The happy memory seemed so distant now, compared to the anxiety ridden emotions that played about in the room.

“We are not going to the continent.” Az’s tone shift was abrupt, a snap of anger leaning into it. He tied the top of the bag closed and set it roughly atop the living room table. The scattered odds and ends of survival gear and weapons scraped against the wood. You watched the stare down between the high lord and his shadowsinger patiently. Waiting for your moment to speak rationally to them.

Rhys’ power roiled above, his eyes did not hide his frustration with his brother. His gaze was simmering with that dark power he possessed. Azriel did not back down. “The continent is the only place that may be safe. If the King finds out she’s a Seer he will never let her go. We can’t risk losing her as a hostage.”

You knew she would be a hostage too. Feyre would never let her sister be taken without a fight. Rhys knew his mate well enough to know not to risk just Elain, but Feyre too. Cauldron knew what Nesta would do if she were in that room during the conversation. Likely spitting fire and shoving Elain out the door to wherever she seemed to think was safe. Thankfully, both sisters were scouring deep in the library for any way to help win this battle.

Azriel did not break eyecontact with his brother as he made to speak again. You interrupted before he could make the situation worse. “I have somewhere in mind.” You spoke softly, urging the staring contest to end. Azriel looked away first, and you were surprised at that. His eyes met yours with something like relief. “Autumn. We have Eris on our side if we’re caught. I have a spot we can stay until-” Azriels scoff sent anger shooting through you. You clenched your teeth together to keep from lashing out at him as he had been doing just moments before. 

“Autumn is possibly the worst place we could send you right now. We’re on the brink of war with them potentially being on Hyberns side. We would be sending you straight to Hybern himself.” 

“Exactly. It’s stupid and they would never expect it.” 

“You’re not going. Beron exiled you. Don’t you remember what that means?” He looked at you with actual concern now that he knew you were serious. As if you had been injured and you were speaking a different language.

“It means we will be safe from Hybern when they come here to look for Elain. Isn’t that the point?” You wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and pulled her close. Az couldn’t argue with that. The other courts were not an option, as it would be harboring a target against one of the Night court Allies. And Winter court was nowhere to be spending the night. Not many survived the night there without shelter.

Rhys’ sigh was long and exhausted. Left without another option, he nodded to himself. He held out a hand and summoned two necklaces, both with pendants of black onyx that shimmered in the firelight. Az’s brows pinched together at the sight of them. The dull glow behind him shone through his wings, highlighting all the delicate structures there. You found his wings more beautiful than the enchanted stone Rhys handed you.

“Hybern won’t be able to sense your magic. Keep these on.” 

Azriel was already tensing, his fists balling at his sides ready to make it physical if Rhys refused to listen. He knew with his entire being that something was off. Something would go wrong this night. His shadows warned him of something. And he couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. “Rhys-”

“And you will be going with them. Keep them company while Feyre and I investigate just how many ships and forces they plan to bring.” He ordered in that indisputable tone of the high lord. With only a hint of friendliness. He gave Az a long look before turning back to you and Elain. “Do not take those off.” The nodded to the necklaces and started to winnow. Elain stood abruptly, startling you. 

“Thank you.” She said softly to the high lord. He seemed taken aback for a second, before giving her a gracious nod and finally disappearing. You rose to Elain’s height and took her hand in yours. It was warm, welcoming. “We’re going to be fine.” You promised, not caring if Azriel saw the care you gave her. She had been there for you just as you needed to be now. She had practically kept you alive with her soft humming and reading to you when you were at your worst after being exiled. 

 “I know.” She said, voice soft as rose petals. But that dark power within her were the thorns of that pretty, perfect rose. The reason Hybern even knew to look in Velaris for Elain. That cauldron calling power that she couldn’t control to save her life. You grimly smiled at her.

“We need to leave.” Azriel ordered, tone neutral. Just a warrior needing to move troops.

“Let me get your bag.” Elain said, giving you a squeeze of her hand, disappearing up the stairs. Leaving you with the brooding Illyrian. You grimaced in his direction. He ignored you as best he could, hoping that the time for babysitting would pass quickly. He had always found it strange how you and Elain moved like magnets together. Found the soft way you comforted each other somehow upsetting. He paced quietly in front of the fire while you gathered your gear. Two small blades - one for Elain - and your sword. You rubbed at a speck on the hard steel of the sword. 

Perhaps his lack of family had made that rivaling jealousy turn into hatred for the display of affection. He contemplated to himself. Had he become cold to everyone? Too harsh? Had the darkness he possessed taken him over? He tore his eyes from your short sword and locked them with yours. The thrill he felt wasn’t from anger or terror. His cheeks flushed slightly and you fought the grin that you wanted so badly to flaunt at him. The innuendos regarding the sword that you wanted to say were cut off by that look he gave you.

“Do not get into a situation where you have to use that.” He warned with a stern look. You couldn’t help the angelic smile you gave him.

+

The smell of rotting apples and decaying leaves was all you needed to sense to know you were home. You took in the court border slowly, adjusting to your orientation after being winnowed. Elain clutched your hand tightly, the bag in her other hand quivered only slightly from her shaking. Your hands became slick with sweat at the familiar sights and smells of Autumn. You hadn’t been back since being exiled.

“We wont be able to have a fire.” Azriel stated, gazing towards the sky. It was far too clear of a day out to risk it. The slight chill in the air filled your stomach with dread for the night to come. 

“This way.” You pulled Elain along with you, leaves crunching under your feet as you entered Autumn court. She didn’t move. Her eyes were blank, staring lifelessly into the orange and yellow forest. “Elain?” You asked softly.

“Five foxes will die tonight. Three more in the morning.” 

Her words sent a chill down your spine.

Az took the lead, territoriality putting himself a few paces in front of you. He wasn’t subtle about it either, occasionally jogging ahead to scout for any enemies around piles of bramble when you came across it. 

By the time you found your hideout, you were fed up with waiting for him to give you the all clear everywhere you went. You let you go of Elains now calm hand and stormed into the small shack with familiarity. Azriel hissed and seethed when you lit a lantern inside. “Get over yourself, Shadowsinger.” You laughed, taking in the small piece of home you made for yourself long ago. 

It indeed was a long time ago when you’d last been there. But it still felt homey to you. The small space was just big enough for a stove, the table you’d found, and a bed pushed against the far wall. The fireplace hadn’t been used in years. Soot marked small animal prints along the light plank floors.

The dusty blankets on the makeshift bed were pocked with holes from mice and moths. The fireplace was nearly caved in on itself. The bramble covering that acted like a second roof was growing through the actual roof in some places. But it was still home. Your small exit from the world when things got too tough. Even after being exiled Beron hadn’t known about this place. He would have had it destroyed if he did know of it.

Elain pushed in passed Azriel. His shadows went wild. Searching every surface of the cabin. The long beams of the floor were hardly visible through the darkness he brought. 

+

You knew you should have brought more blankets. You held back the teeth chattering as best you could, letting Elain sleep. She would need all the rest she could get. You could tell she’d been tired after the days walk. She rested peacefully under the layers while the wind shuddered the leaves outside. You pulled your coat tighter to your body. 

“This was a stupid idea.” Azriel muttered from the corner. He didn’t seem cold, but the dark curls of shadow wrapped around him protectively. While you were left with nothing more than a coat. Your own magic couldn’t save you from the stormy wind, the necklace Rhys had given you also weakened your power enough that you couldn’t use it. Even in your homeland. It bothered you endlessly, feeling so useless in such a dire situation of needing to help Elain. 

“Then maybe you should just leave.” You barked back simply. He didn’t have to come in the first place if he was going to be so bothered. 

“I just mean-” He sighed, and sat on the creaky old table that took up half the small kitchenette. “We could have done this better. We could have planned… Differently.” 

“We didnt have the time. We’re here now, so we just need to deal-”

“I know that. I’m just bothered that you’re so recklessly looking for danger everywhere we go.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m from here Azriel. I know what areas are dangerous.” 

“Maybe once.” His eyes were not angry when he said it. They were full of pity and doubt. Your rage spilled over, and you were ready to shout. Ready to scream at him about what a piggish idiot Illrian he was being. But Elain turned over, sighing softly to herself. 

So instead, you clamped down on that burning anger and walked out. And of course he decided to try to follow you. He made it a few steps outside the cabin before you turned on him, ready to roar. “Be safe at least.” He tossed his red jeweled dagger to you. Your heart squeezed, choking you up slightly. You brushed it away as best you could before he could see. You couldn’t yell at him. 

So you took the dagger and walked briskly away, into the brush of autumn forests. Laced with the smell of heavy fruits and warm trees. Leaves fluttering in your wake as the wind tossed with ease. 

You held his knife close at your side the entire aimless walk. Then, the sound of twigs snapping and males laughing heartily made you pause. 

Far to your east was a dull glow beyond a knoll. You backed away slowly. Trying to be as soundless as possible in case they could scent you. The breeze whipped at your skin, blowing in their direction. The trees above you shuddered sharply, and you swore as a heavy weight fell upon your shoulders.

+

Azriel paced in the kitchenette, his shadows swirling around him relentlessly, waiting for a target. It felt wrong letting you go. It felt like letting his hope sink. His shadows even seemed upset about it, as they now whipped around him angrily. 

He swore he was going to run a rut through the plank floor. He sighed, glanced to Elain’s sleeping figure and forced himself to sit. You had the dagger. You were capable. You knew the area and knew what you were doing. He tried his best to soothe himself. It didn’t help much.

The old chair creaked under his weight, and he smiled. For someone who claimed they couldn’t work around the house, you were quite the crafter making such a nice hideaway for yourself. He finally took a moment to pause, and actually look at the cabin.

The stove may have been older than he was. The missing burners on top were replaced with a few forks placed carefully around them. The ancient shelves were dusty, along with all the jars and cups atop them. Cobwebs spotted the entire house, but his shadows had gotten rid of most of them after the first one clung to his face upon walking in. 

Then he came to the table he sat at, the four unmatching chairs circling it. The table itself was solid oak, he could tell that much. But he wondered how you’d gotten it inside at all. Out of curiosity, he pulled on it. It didn’t budge. His eyebrows knitted together, and he stood slowly. The curiosity consumed him. He gave the table another tug. Still, no movement.  

He crouched down, and noticed the planks around the single leg of the table had been cut out. Then he noticed the intricate roots weaving their way up the trunk. The table wasn’t just a table. It was an entire tree - or what was a tree once… And you’d built the entire cabin around it. His awe was quickly quieted by Elain.

“A part of you is missing. The foxes will die.” She muttered sleepily, her eyes blank. And he lay back down as if it hadn’t happened. “Elain?” Azriel called. Dread, cold and stinging coarse through him. “Elain?” He asked quietly, approaching her side. She flung the covers from her lithe body. Azriel jumped back, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s okay, its me.” He calmed her, noting the wild look in her expression. 

“Find yourself.” She breathed, her eyes going wide with concern. Azriel’s heart sped, and he felt like he’d been dunked in a cold ocean of dread. Terror drug him under the deep waves and threatened to drown him the first chance it got. He took Elains hand and started walking the direction you’d left. 

Leaving behind the supplies and the living table that you’d created.

+

A glance at the oversized uniforms told you all you needed to know. The fox sigil pinned to their tunics proved that the uniforms were stolen from Autumn soldiers. Your blood boiled. Elain had been right. But they would die. Five of them, at least. But you had only glimpsed at three so far. You tugged at the ropes that bound you. Firm, and not able to be broken.

Their campsite was large, and full of small boxes of different fruits. Several different types of weapons leaned against their low lying tents. And with how many scars their fae leader had, you knew the rest of their story in an instant. Bandits. Filthy trade merchants that lived for thievery and making a quick gold mark.

And you’d be worth their weight in gold once they turned you in to Beron.

“We’ve got a live one!” The male shouted to his comrades. They cheered drunkenly, their voices carried far by the wind. Their fire sparked and popped against the blue night sky. And you knew that your death may not come in glory of battle, or in the name of your home. But in being stupid enough to be caught by bandits. You could have died that instant if it would mean you didn’t have to feel that kind of shame.

The male cut the opal from your neck, and you felt your magic explode from you. Your thoughts were racing, searching. Finding something cold and dark in the depths of your mind and tugging on it. Then, it was a live beast beneath your mental hands. It coiled and rose, ready to strike. 

The same one cut a long line down your cheek with the blade that had just cut your only protection against Hybern from you. You prayed to the mother that Hybern was too busy to notice a small blip of magic from an Autumn fae like you. You hissed in pain as the blade stung its way down to your neck, stopping at your collarbone. 

You pulled on that coiling beast that called to you. Beckoned it to find you, to help you from this pain. Maybe you were begging for death, or at least unconsciousness so you wouldnt have to feel the pain anymore. The male stood back to let another scaled lower fae get a look at you. His tongue lashed out over your bloodied neck. He hummed in approval, letting his forked wetness slither across your wounds.

You felt them seal and itch with every pass as he took your blood. “Good.” the one with the blade ordered, then… to your dread, he pulled a glowing rod from the fire. They would brand you. Then take you to the high lord. Only after they’d humiliated you though. The males clucked at your involuntary reaction. They huddled close around, waiting for the screaming to start. Their excitement coated the air with a tangy adrenaline filled scent. 

You reared away from the burning metal as best as you could. The ropes around you seemed weaker now that you had your weak magic back, but still too constricting to do much with. 

You closed your eyes as the glow approached your chest. It warmed your face with the heat. They were going slow on purpose. Wanting to savor your reaction. It made your stomach go queasy. You hoped you would pass out. Better yet, just die of the agony. That way Beron wouldn’t have the satisfaction of killing you himself. 

There was a thump, and sizzling. You cracked open your eyes, waiting that searing pain to hit you. But it didnt. The males stood back, bewildered. Across the camp in the dull glow of the fire as the one that had been lowering the branding stick to you. It was speared through his chest, pinning him to a tree. His mouth gasped, eyes wide and glowing a haunting orange from the fire. You would never forget the sight of it. The smoldering that came from the tree behind him as the hot iron burned into it. The wet sounds of his mouth opening and closing. 

Then, the gasp and thump each male that Azriel incapacitated before you. Elain stood at the edge of the trees, her eyes still puffy from sleep. Azriel kept the kills quiet and concise. None resembled the one pinned to the tree, now sagging under the weight of death. No, the rest of them had easy deaths at the hands of one skilled at dealing killing blows. The wet splatter of blood leaving a body pulled you back to the scene in front of you. Az’s scowl as he cleaned his blade was that of a warrior who had seen much worse. Done much worse. 

“I told you not to fucking-” He snarled, his hands on the rope at your wrists. He stopped though, and stared. The shadowed light of his eyes seemed to be blooming with awe. You couldn’t look away. The beauty in the deep irises, the way small freckles played about his dark skin. All new and exciting things you’d never noticed before. His scent alone was like a punch to the gut. 

Him. Azriel. It had been him to find you. Him to respond to that silent plea that you so badly needed to be heard. He was that coiling darkness that had saved you. Your breath was a gasp, and you nearly fell to your knees before him. 

+

His hands didn’t work anymore. The world stopped turning all together. His heart was no longer his own and his soul belonged wherever you were. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a foreign court’s borders. It didn’t matter that Elain trembled in the corner of the clearing. He was yours, and you were his. 

He vowed it, for eternity that was how it would stay. He’d never leave your side again. Never choose to be without you for as long as he may be alive. His very being was now shared. With you. His soul intertwined your yours, wrapping delicately around your earthy light that contrasted his darkness so perfectly. If you were the sun he was the moon, always chasing, always following and living in your light. 

The words weren’t needed but he managed to utter them. Around a shuddering breath and a shattering explosion of love he managed it. “My mate.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fic #reader x azriel

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

#john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #fem!reader #the breakfast club #breakfast club #reader-insert #80s fanfic

[samstree]

Hug a Witcher Day (4/4)

In which Geralt makes plans, but everything goes wrong.

(geraskier, 4.7k,  hurt/comfort, sick jaskier, love confessions, first kiss, second kiss, cuddling, geralt talks about his feelings!)

This story ends here. Remember to give your local witchers a hug!

AO3, previous: [1] [2] [3]

Loving someone is unbearable, Geralt has recently realized.

In the big medical camp, when they can only sleep with hundreds of healers and patients in one big room, their single beds are arranged next to each other in parallel. The night renders the place pitch dark and Geralt is the only one still capable of seeing anything.

Geralt watches Jaskier drift off the moment his head hits the pillow, his breathing calm and his heart slowing.

The bard is tired, but he’s safe.

Geralt watches for a few more moments longer and, gradually, a warm pool of fuzziness begins to gather in his stomach again. He revels in it, in the feeling of loving Jaskier.

He reaches out a hand towards the bard and stops at the edge of the bed, a mere foot away from Jaskier’s sleeping form. The steady rhythm of Jaskier’s human heart lulls Geralt into oblivion but his hand remains there, so close and yet so far away.

That’s how Jaskier wakes Geralt in the morning, with a brush of knuckles, a gentle squeeze on his wrist and a soft, bleary smile. His brown hair is sleep-rumpled and there’s a long pillow crease on his cheek, and Geralt almost blurts it out on the spot.

Loving someone is unbearable.

Loving someone while not telling them is even worse.

But Geralt will tell Jaskier one day. A witcher can’t afford to be a coward. He didn’t get through the worst trials only to be intimidated by a simple human bard. No, the reason he can’t voice those three words is only…bad timing. Jaskier has been through too much in the span of just a few seasons, and yet his smiles are still flowing with patience; he persists with the gentleness that is so distinctly  Jaskier .

Geralt won’t weigh Jaskier down, not until they can pack their bags and leave this city.

And they do.

The end of summer brings the first chill in the air, and Geralt finally leads Roach out of the gates of Vizima. Jaskier follows not far behind with the lute on his back and a spring in his steps.

It all feels like a dream when Geralt remembers being cooped up in one place and isolated from the world, but he walks out of the city as a new man. The love flowing through his veins is the tangible proof of his change of heart.

“Roach must be dying to stretch her legs, don’t you think?” the bard offers when Geralt mounts the mare, her gait anxious.

“Catch up to me?” Geralt asks.

“Always.”

The corners of Jaskier’s eyes crinkle and the sun spills down his hair and threads it with gold. With a gentle nudge, the mare takes off eagerly. The bard’s silhouette grows more distant and Geralt gives up on hiding the lovestruck grin on his face.

*

For a long time, Geralt anticipates he will tell Jaskier in the most dramatic, world-ending way.

After all, the bard does everything so dramatically and world-endingly that anything related to him should deserve the same treatment. Geralt reckons even if he tries to keep it down, Jaskier will find a way to make it the grandest scene there is.

Geralt thinks about doing it in Dol Blathanna, a poetic symmetry to their first meeting that the bard will certainly wax poetic about. The idea churns for two days and suddenly he realizes how terrible it is. The fall will soon render the valley of flowers barren and they’ll just be standing on rocky ground.

So Geralt turns his eyes to the north, where Kaer Morhen must be hiding behind the mountains. Within the walls of the ancient keep, there’s a tower just next to their training yard that he has spent so many sleepless nights in. Standing on top of that tower and watching the stars and northern lights might be the rare moments when he’s truly at peace. It’s when he’s at home.

He silently decides on taking Jaskier home for the winter.

“Why are you taking us this far north, Geralt? Urgh, and why do you have to push me like this? You truly have no pity for me.”

The bard sits on his bedroll and rubs at his eyes at dawn, his face scrunched up with displeasure.

“Hmm.”

In his mind’s eye, Geralt can almost see Jaskier’s face when he steps into Kaer Morhen for the first time, the bard raving about all the songs the ancient keep could inspire and exploring the place with wonderment. He can see the way Jaskier’s eyes would light up under the night sky at the sight of those colorful lights, awestruck and gleaming.

If Geralt was any other man, he would be giddy with anticipation.

And perhaps, that’s why he doesn’t see it when sickness creeps up on Jaskier in the most unexpected way.

Surviving a terrible plague and falling ill right after sounds way too anticlimactic. Jaskier would be disappointed in a twist like this if it’s in a story. It never even crosses Geralt’s mind that Jaskier’s increased complaining is a result of discomfort, of months’ exhaustion silently building up. It never occurs to him that Jaskier, now with his waist and shoulders thinner, might need to take more breaks on the road and wear more layers on harsher days.

An autumn storm catches them off guard and that’s all it takes.

“You got lucky. There’s only one room left.” The man behind the desk throws a pitying look at the bard, dripping on the creaky floor and swaying on his feet. “The rest are all booked for the festival.”

Geralt pays no mind to his remarks. His world narrows down to getting Jaskier into a warm room and stripping him of these wet clothes. He has no choice but to replace them with one of Geralt’s dark shirts—the bard has never been good at keeping his pack dry.

Now Jaskier is shivering under the covers and groaning like a dying animal. His hair is damp from the residual rain and cold sweat, his frame drowning in the too-large tunic.

“Can you light the fire, Geralt?” Jaskier asks through chattering teeth. The blanket is slipping from his shoulders, the open collar exposing a patch of skin and sending a chill down his body. Geralt wraps the blanket tighter around him and looks puzzled at the roaring flame in the hearth.

“It is on. Can’t you see it?” Geralt frowns, confused.

Jaskier’s eyes focus on somewhere far away. The dazed expression lingers for way too long before his head turns to the fireplace. “Oh.”

The worry in Geralt’s stomach grows heavier. He feels for Jaskier’s forehead and lets out a curse when his palm meets burning skin.

“You are feverish.” Geralt continues to wipe away the sweat gathering at the bard’s hairline. “Damn it, Jaskier. Why didn’t you say something?”

The bard leans into Geralt’s cooler touch instinctively. “Well, if you learned one thing about bards, Geralt, you should know that we can’t predict the weather.”

“No.” Frustration seeps into Geralt’s voice. He lets out a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? You must have been feeling terrible for days if you have a fever like this. Jaskier…”

Geralt breathes out his name and finds anger rising, but not towards the bard. He’s angry with himself, for neglecting Jaskier’s comfort in favor of furthering his stupid plan, for not seeing what’s right in front of him. Jaskier staggering on his feet in the pouring rain stirred up some old fear in Geralt, the fear that hasn’t left him since the day he stepped into Oxenfurt in the spring.

“I guess it didn’t even cross my mind,” Jaskier explains, his voice small and unsure. “We just survived something unimaginable, my dear. I was so excited to go out again. It’s you and—”

Jaskier is rudely interrupted by a coughing fit. The violent wheezing wracks his lungs, causing him to fall forward in a struggle. Geralt catches his limp body in a frenzy and Jaskier ends up with his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder to ride it out, his too-warm breaths fanning over the skin of Geralt’s skin.

“It’s you and me against the world,” Jaskier finally croaks as Geralt helps him sit against the pillows. “All the adventures we missed, think about them. I was just…excited.”

Geralt finds himself kneeling on the bed and a hand’s breadth away from Jaskier’s face, his cheeks worryingly flushed. He looks down to adjust the blanket again to make sure the bard is completely bundled up.

“Excited? And you couldn’t even tell you were sick?”

At least the bard is looking contrite.

“I thought I was just out of shape, with all the pain in my joints and my back. Ugh.” Jaskier squirms in the sea of pillows, adjusting to find better support. “I suppose you don’t have anything for it? A whole bag of witcher potions and none for humans—”

“I—” Geralt splutters. “I’ll, um, get you some willow bark. And a sleeping draught.”

He gets off the bed in one swift motion and works under Jaskier’s curious gaze. The bard is entranced by Geralt’s movement as he boils the water and prepares the tea that he’s been carrying around and replenishing for years.

Blue eyes remain inscrutable as Geralt strains out the shredded bark and scoops a spoonful of honey in the steaming water. He brings the cup to Jaskier’s bed as well as a tincture of sleeping potion.

The bard lets go of the blanket in favor of the cup. He takes a sip and lets out a soft sigh. The honey should be soothing his throat, and it counters the bitterness of the willow bark as well. Geralt leaves him to finish the tea and goes to retrieve his cloak. The thick garment is now completely dry and toasty thanks to the fire, so he gathers it and puts it over Jaskier’s lap.

The bard hands Geralt the empty cup, uncorks the tincture, and downs the greenish liquid.

“ Urgh. Why do all sleeping draughts taste so dreadful?” He grimaces, sticking out his tongue. “Should’ve saved some of the honey.”

“You need more?”

Geralt is ready to fish out the jar again but a hand resting on his elbow stops him.

“Don’t waste it, Geralt. I know how much honey costs.”

“It’s not a waste,” Geralt insists.

Geralt sinks back down into the mattress and suddenly Jaskier’s palm on his arm is burning a hole into his bones, and it’s not because of the fever.

“Because you bought it for me?” Jaskier’s gaze grows intense, the question phrased like a statement, like the bard has never been more sure of anything else. “You keep a jar of honey in your pack and only put it in our water after I sing for a whole night. You carry fresh willow bark for my headache—gods know it’s too weak for your metabolism. You have sleeping potions for humans.”

All statements should feel accusatory, but something is brewing like a storm under Jaskier’s unwavering eyes.

Geralt’s ears heat up in the too-warm room. He wants to get as far away from Jaskier as possible to avoid feeling so exposed. It’s almost like Jaskier has stripped him bare and left his heart in the open.

“It’s nothing.”

And that’s the wrong thing to say.

“What? No.” Distress overtakes those blue eyes. “Geralt, you take care of me. You have been taking care of me for years. How can it be nothing? Even just in Vizima, you stayed for me and you were there for me—”

“I wouldn’t just leave you there, Jask.” Geralt says defensively. The bard truly is burning with a mad fever if he thinks Geralt could ever leave him.

A sad smile spreads across Jaskier’s face.

“I know. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he answers, half to himself, which makes Geralt all the more confused. He covers Jaskier’s hand resting on his arm and squeezes gently for the bard to continue.

“It’s been three years, Geralt. It’s been three years since that night. Do you still remember? It was the night before we had to part for the winter, and it was so cold. I couldn’t even get my teeth to stop chattering and you insulted my choice of wear, as you do.” The bard rolls his eyes. “I fell asleep in shivers and woke up warm with all my toes still intact. Miraculously.”

Jaskier slips his hand out of Geralt’s before threading their fingers together, his other hand running up and down the cloak on his lap. “You had given me your cloak during the night so I wouldn’t freeze. And when I turned around, you were just…there. Lying on your bedrolls,  cloakless, sleeping, and so far away.”

Geralt stares at Jaskier’s dazed expression and the melancholy at the corners of his mouth and senses his languid heartbeat pick up. He remembers that night, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Why Jaskier thinks it was anything of significance is baffling.

“That was the moment for me. That morning, right before we parted for a whole season, was when it hit me. I—Geralt, I wanted to tell you then, but I was too much of a coward, so I sent you away without knowing.”

Tell me what?

The question dies in Geralt’s throat. Instead, habit compels him to deflect. “But you were cold.”

Jaskier’s eyes are gleaming in the warm candlelight, wide and earnest.

“It’s what you do, Geralt. You save me from monsters and rude patrons. You tolerate my faults and you compel me to do better. You traveled across the continent to see me safe, and you stayed. You  stayed .” Jaskier is on the verge of tears, and Geralt wishes more than anything in the world to erase that dejected look on his face. “My white wolf. My protector. I—I had nothing to thank you for, except for my songs. So I wrote the song, thinking I could show you that way.”

The fire crackles and Geralt asks dumbly.

“What song?”

Jaskier holds his gaze and hums the too-familiar tune of Hug a Witcher, his voice breaking from time to time, growing hoarse by the end. Geralt is pinned to the spot, unable to form words.

“I got the whole continent to do it for me, didn’t I?” Jaskier chuckles tightly but his usual smugness is nowhere to be seen. “But, you see, the whole continent gets to hug you for a day. They’ll get to show you their appreciation. But not me. What a wonderful plan! I guess that’s the price for being selfish, for wanting an excuse to—just to…”

Jaskier trails off, his fingers limp in Geralt’s hand. The silence hangs too heavily as Geralt lets the thunderstruck realization sink in.

As if Geralt has ever cared about what everyone else thinks of him. As if he ever wanted everyone else’s arms around him. Jaskier can never be selfish when it comes to Geralt, never when it counts. He’s being such a fool for assuming and Geralt lets out a frustrated growl.

The bard flinches, and retreats, pulling his legs towards his chest to appear as small as possible. His curled-up form is so small that it looks wrong. Jaskier should take up all the space in the world.

“No,” Geralt corrects him desperately. “No. You are not selfish, Jaskier. You’ve done nothing wrong by me in this—”

“I’ve brought nothing but trouble to your side. The song, the plague…I’ve worried you, and now I’ve burdened you. I—” Jaskier’s gaze darts all over the place, heedless of Geralt’s protest. The delirium is muddling his mind. Geralt panics and wraps Jaskier’s chin in his palm, desperately trying to anchor his bard.

“Jaskier—”

“Will you leave?” There’s old fear in the question. “Am I going to be cold and alone again?”

It must be the fever. Added with the ordeal of the past year, it’s bringing back memories of childhood, of painful days confined to a bed and struggling for survival. He needs to reassure Jaskier, to erase the lost expression on Jaskier’s face.

In a frenzy, he ends up doing it by pressing his lips to Jaskier’s.

The kiss is a hot and urgent thing and it’s over in a second. The bitter taste of the sleeping potion lingers. Geralt breathes into the space between them, his palm still caressing Jaskier’s cheek. A tear rolls down and Geralt catches it with the pad of his thumb.

Blue eyes refocus, piercing Geralt’s soul.

“Geralt?” he breathes.

The name comes out so reverent that Geralt is sure that his heart will burst.  Gods, he loves Jaskier.

“I love you.”

A soft gasp escapes Jaskier’s lips.

“Can you hear me now?” Geralt’s thumb continues to trace small circles on Jaskier’s skin. “Can you hear when I say that, Jaskier, you are not a burden? You are not trouble that I have to deal with. You are not selfish for staying and you will never be alone again, not if I ever have a say in it.”

Jaskier’s limbs unfurl, his arms gradually stretching out from the tight hold over his knees.

"I never wanted to tell you like this. I shouldn’t. Not like this.” Geralt sinks into the presence of his bard and presses their foreheads together. Jaskier stays painstakingly silent and a pang of fear hits Geralt. “Shit, Jask. You don’t need to say anything. I shouldn’t have done it when you are still sick. You know what, forget about—”

“You love me?” Jaskier whispers, his voice so small that anyone but a witcher would have missed it.

“I love you.” Geralt pulls away to stare into the stormy blue of Jaskier’s eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. For longer than I know, Jask. I made so many plans for this moment. I wanted it to be perfect for you. But now, I…I just need you to know.”

He just needs to make it better, make Jaskier better. All the plans are nothing but useless, his fear of rejection too. The sight of Jaskier in pain is enough to chuck every worry out the window. Even if his love is not returned, even if a witcher can never have it returned.

But with a heartbeat and the next, Jaskier has thrown himself into Geralt’s embrace, nearly knocking the breath out of him. And, as if in a fantasy, Jaskier’s lips are everywhere, peppering small, wet kisses all over his face.

“You  are  perfect for me, you oaf.” A smile finally blossoms on Jaskier’s face and their lips meet again.

The second time Geralt ever kisses Jaskier, it feels like coming home. It’s a drawn-out and lazy dance that lulls him into dreamland, only the dream has come true in the solid form of Jaskier’s supple lips against his and nimble fingers carding through his hair. The bard lets out a string of adorable giggles as he climbs onto Geralt’s bent knees and straddles him, the cloak and blanket shoved out of their way.

Geralt is falling.

And soaring.

“Hey, steady.” he keeps both hands on the small of Jaskier’s back to keep him in place.

The weight of Jaskier is heavenly, and the unlaced collar of Geralt’s shirt provides the best opening for him to slowly suck at the junction between Jaskier’s shoulder and neck. The bard ends up a whimpering, limp mess, draped all over Geralt’s shoulder with a shudder running down his spine.

“Do you even know how easy it is for you to ruin me?” Jaskier murmurs breathily in Geralt’s ear. All he can muster for response is another growl.

When Geralt gently lowers Jaskier down onto the pillows again, the bard looks a fine picture of debauchery, with a beet-red flush painted across his cheeks and patches of reddened skin at his neck that will surely bloom into dark bruises. His hair is sticking in all directions and the shirt slips down from one shoulder, his chest heaving from the exertion.

Tears well up in cornflower blue eyes again but this time it’s not from pain. All Geralt can smell is the heady pleasure that is equally affecting him.

“I’m afraid your sleeping potion has kicked in,” Jaskier yawns just in time. “It’s the good stuff, my dear. You spoil me.”

The bard blinks his eyes open stubbornly as Geralt fishes the blanket up from the floor and then the cloak.

“I’ll spoil you more when you get better.”

“Big witcher with bigger promises.” Jaskier is slurring his words but the smile on his face can match the bright afternoon sun.

Geralt curls around Jaskier’s body and drapes the blanket over both of them, the cloak tucked where chill might creep in during the night. When he pulls Jaskier closer, the bard tucks his head under Geralt’s chin and nuzzles ever so slightly.

The urge to kiss is overwhelming, and Geralt realizes that he can.

“Goodnight, Jask.”

His lips touch Jaskier’s eyelid and the bard is out in the next second. There’s still a faint smile on his lips.

* 

Geralt wakes up like this, with Jaskier sprawled on top of him and snoring softly. He brushes back the hair at the bard’s forehead and feels for his temperature. The fever is still running low but it will be gone in a day or so. Sighing with relief, Geralt revels in the sensation of the rhythmic thrumming of Jaskier’s heart against his ribcage.

His attention drifts to what woke him in the first place. A group of men seems to be yelling on the street right under their window. Geralt only catches a few words in the distinct conversation, but from the looks of it they are arguing about…building a stage somewhere.

And then, the word  Saovine stands out.

If they are already building the stage for the performance, and the tavern has been booked up by travelers… Geralt does the math in his head and almost feels giddy when it dawns on him—

It’s today.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day.

The thought doesn’t leave him with the agonizing emptiness that is Jaskier’s absence anymore. Instead, Geralt feels like he’s floating mid-air among the clouds and he may never come down again. He might as well not, since Jaskier won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

He hides a goofy grin in tousled brown hair.

One of the men hammers down on something and Jaskier stirs, inhaling deep and then groaning loud. He arches away from Geralt’s chest with a low growling whine—the fever must still be hurting his back and joints. Geralt untangles their limbs and rests his palm flush against the bard’s lower back where it seems to bother him. He kneads gently, massaging the soreness away. Jaskier lets out an exaggerated moan, his face buried in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

When Jaskier speaks, his voice vibrates deep and nasally from sleep, and it makes something warm gather in Geralt’s stomach. He pushes up the hem of the shirt on Jaskier and places a kiss on the side of his waist before lying down again, face to face with the bard.

“It wasn’t.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier mirrors one of Geralt’s many hums and looks up blearily through drooping lashes, his smile content and his blush healthier. The bard boops his nose. “What are you grinning at?”

“It’s my day.”

“What day?” The furrow between Jaskier’s brows is too adorable and Geralt is too smitten with it. Eventually, the bard catches on. “ Oh .”

He then scoots closer to tuck a strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear. Excitement sparks in his eyes.

“Can I?” Jaskier asks as if they didn’t just spend a whole night snuggled against each other, as if Geralt hasn’t been ready to say yes since three Hug a Witcher Days ago.

“Yes.”

With that permission, Geralt finds himself on his back with an armful of bard. Jaskier is hugging him so tightly that even a witcher can barely breathe.

“For luck, right?” the bard says into his neck and flings a leg over Geralt’s hip, putting his entire weight into the embrace. “Only the gods know I’ll be needing some for next year.”

“No more scaring me like this.” Geralt mutters half to himself as he runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and pulls him even closer. It’s a near-impossible endeavor since he’s already crushed between the mattress and the too eager bard.

“No more,” Jaskier agrees and rubs his nose into the silver hair pooling on the pillow, humming with buzzing pleasure. “And who would have thought? Destiny can be cruel just as she is kind. It’s today, of all days...”

“Hmm. Who would have thought…”

Geralt inhales the scent of Jaskier, now the sour stench of misery only faint. In its place is the happiness that reminds him of the afternoon sun baked into fresh linens.

“And to think I forgot to tell you yesterday. The most renowned poet on this continent forgot to profess his love. How embarrassing!”

Geralt snorts, but in truth, he doesn’t even care anymore. Jaskier being here, in the safety of his arms and recovering from the ordeal of the past year is more than enough. He can live with the knowledge that Jaskier knows that he is loved. He is loved so deeply by someone who was told his whole life to be incapable of it. Now that Geralt is on the other side, the idea of ever not loving Jaskier becomes an unthinkable thing. It’s like not loving the sun or the earth or—

“You’re thinking sappy things.” The bard looks up and the mirth in his eyes disappears. “And probably bad things about yourself. After all these years, after so many songs and so many scrapes and bruises, you still doubt it. Oh, Geralt. Can’t you see? I wrote Hug a Witcher because I didn’t know how to tell you that I love you. To be fair, I wrote every song for the same reason, but this one…I needed you to feel loved, darling, even if it’s not by me.”

So he got the whole continent to do it for him and dragged every other witcher down with it. Geralt should be appalled by the length of theatrics the bard is willing to go if he doesn’t somehow find it the most endearing thing in the world.

“A love letter. Delivered by everyone but you,” Geralt adds.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” Jaskier purses his lips sheepishly. A sheepish Jaskier is such a rare occurrence that Geralt can’t look away. “My white wolf. My protector.”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s wrist and guides it to his chest, placing his palm right over the slow rhythm of his heart. “That’s one thing we have in common, isn’t it? You protect me too. You guard my heart and my name. You use your strength but not for violence but love. If destiny has ever given me one blessing, Jaskier, it would be you. And you are asking if I’m satisfied...”

Geralt puts the answer in the kiss he presses on Jaskier’s forehead with all the gentleness he can muster. It must be the one-millionth time he’s kissed Jaskier because he can no longer remember not being allowed to kiss Jaskier feels like.

“So, Hug a Witcher Day, eh?” Jaskier springs up with renewed vigor, so fast Geralt amazes that he isn’t getting dizzy. “How should we celebrate?”

Geralt looks at his bard, surrounded by his clothing and his love, basked in the shimmering morning light.

“I believe it’s in the name.” he challenges, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, honey. You know I won’t let you go for the rest of the day, right?” the bard smirks with mischief. “But first, if I remember it correctly, didn’t you say that you had some…plans for your grand love confession?”

Geralt blinks. “Are you always this incorrigible?”

“Duh!” Jaskier shrugs, offended. “Oh, come on! I promise I won’t make fun of you! And I’m sure I can make at least one ballad out of your plotting, my darling witcher. With how much of a sap you are, a whole romance book if I put my mind to it!”

“I won’t give you the chance to make fun of me for the rest of time, bard.”

“But I’m sick.” Jaskier bats his lashes. “It will make me feel better. Won’t you indulge me?”

Geralt cannot believe the bard is already playing this card. What’s worse is that he knows his resolve will break very soon.

It’s Hug a Witcher Day after all, and Geralt finally, finally gets to have the one person he wants the most in his arms. If a little bit of embarrassment is the price for it, he can’t say that he minds that much.

---

Geralt gets lots of hugs. Jaskier gets to tease him endlessly. And I can start new wips!

I was torn between two different ways to end this story and finally settled on this more conventional one. I’ll be putting up the alternative ending soon ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #cuddling #snuggling #hugs and kisses! #sick jaskier #jaskier gets sick but it's unrelated to the plague #jaskier whump #protective geralt #love confessions #first kiss #second kiss #geralt of rivia is a sap #this should be a tag #the other ending is very silly #so very silly

[calamitykaty]

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft! 

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

 Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity. 

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal. 

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open. 

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe. 

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down. 

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met. 

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…” 

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.  

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…” 

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted. 

“That’s why I have a plan!”  Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table. 

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app. 

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile. 

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.” 

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!” 

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone. 

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant. 

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full. 

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face. 

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!” 

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together? 

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue. 

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face. 

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation. 

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

 She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent. 

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response. 

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address? 

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him. 

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then! 

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.” 

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep. 

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point. 

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and  definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.” 

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity. 

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well. 

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue. 

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger. 

See you soon! 

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt,  the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body. 

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed. 

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around. 

 “I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile. 

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!” 

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--” 

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.” 

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order. 

Y/N  finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.” 

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” 

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?” 

 “I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.” 

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.” 

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face. 

“You get it.” 

“I do get it.” 

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie. 

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.” 

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?” 

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.” 

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?” 

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes. 

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence. 

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food. 

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.” 

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork. 

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying. 

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face. 

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down. 

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head. 

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other, 

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded. 

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave. 

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes. 

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open. 

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view. 

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car. 

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior. 

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee. 

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled. 

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her. 

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words. 

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?” 

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door. 

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.” 

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one. 

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her. 

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie. 

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed. 

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--” 

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest. 

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with. 

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug. 

“Nice to meet you, son” 

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness. 

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks. 

“Yeah, I know…” 

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen. 

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked. 

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?” 

“Lead the way, beautiful.” 

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah. 

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors. 

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie. 

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face. 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.” 

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him. 

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged. 

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand. 

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands. 

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question. 

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…” 

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.” 

“It did not!’ 

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider. 

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder. 

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.” 

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women. 

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.” 

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found. 

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed. 

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon. 

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child. 

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.” 

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.” 

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door. 

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip. 

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off. 

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother. 

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!” 

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her. 

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room. 

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg. 

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother. 

“So, how did you two meet?” 

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting, 

 “I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!” 

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.” 

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate. 

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped. 

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side. 

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead. 

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.” 

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair. 

“Do you need help, mom?” 

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment. 

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond. 

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side 

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?” 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.” 

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his. 

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand. 

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone. 

‘Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.” 

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door. 

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.” 

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body. 

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!” 

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles. 

“Ok? And?” 

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!” 

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers. 

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door. 

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her. 

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat. 

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth. 

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his. 

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

[cherrybombwritesstuff]

Infiltration

My Piece for the Citrus Dome Collab featuring Villain!Hawks :D

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Hawks/ Keigo Takami

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Sub/Dom Dynamics

The night was hot as hell. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead and sweat tickled your cheeks. Summer humidity was bad enough and it was near unbearable to stand while you were stuffed inside a ventilation shaft. Despite its dilapidated state, the old hospital had been locked down tighter than Tartarus. Iron bars at every window, thick, new padlocks with hefty chains strewn across every door. It had taken a while to map out the internal workings of the building and even now with every precaution you had taken, you still prayed your target was blissfully unaware that the entry to the airways could indeed be silently pried open and, were actually big enough for you to fit; as long as you remained stealthy enough. At some points the rusted metal had groaned under your weight, forcing your heart into your throat as you froze and waited. Your target wasn’t due here just yet, in fact he wasn’t due for another hour or so. Patience would reward you on this job, since Hawks was damn near impossible to sneak up on. You would wait as long as it took. Arriving later would run the risk of being seen either by him or some other lackey at his disposal. You would wait, no matter how damned uncomfortable it was or how much you craved a cleansing shower when all of this was said and done. 

Minutes ticked by like hours. The only thing worse than the thick air was the encompassing darkness. Well that, or the fuzzy layer of dust that coated the surface of the shaft as well as your clothes. At least it wasn’t your hero outfit, that would have been too recognisable. Every movement through the air ducts had been measured, care taken not to disturb the dirt and knock it into your nose. It was strenuous and your muscles were already aching, but if you managed to obtain the intel you needed, all of this nonsense would be so very worth it. Slowly, gently you adjusted your legs to ease the dull ache forming in them. It would all be worth it, it had to be. A few months back your agency had been informed that Hawks had gone rogue. His double agent activities had been completely hidden from the public, as well as most of the heroes working in the area. Higher ups stuffed in expensive suits were mopping their brows as they revealed the situation. Keigo’s abilities we’re too good, he was the number two hero and they refused to believe he had been captured. The only other reason he would stop all communication was defection. It seemed far fetched to you, but not impossible. 

Your breath caught in your throat as your vision suddenly flooded with dull light. Through the thin grating before you, slots of sickly yellow illuminated the cramped space, revealing just how grimy it was and you didn’t wanna think about the metres of muck you’d just crawled through. Heavy double doors swung open in the room beneath you. After all your tracking, shaking down informants and crappy civilian disguises to map out Hawk’s movements, the bastard had deviated his schedule and arrived much earlier than anticipated. That flush of crimson feathers was a dead giveaway as he sauntered over to a desk and took a seat at his leisure. Strangely, he was alone. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you peered through the grating from your hidden perch. Tailing this man had been near impossible. Everybody was tightlipped about the whole affair, either through fear or loyalty. Thankfully, the application of alcohol in a seedy, underground bar finally loosened the tongue of a low ranking villain , that and your favourite little black dress. All he gave you was a slurred complaint of his newest colleague and how the “young featherbrained upstart” didn’t know his place. 

Hawks breathed out a languid sigh, propping his booted feet onto the desk as he stretched his arms above his head as though he’d just come home from his daily nine to five job. After following the movements of the loudmouth villain, you’d been able to tail the number two hero after a brief meeting. He hadn’t been an easy mark, but at the very least you had a feasible time table for a few evenings out of the week. He always came to this abandoned hospital as a sort of base of operations and up until now, he hadn’t been alone. Your muscles tensed as you continued to watch him, waiting for others to show up, for something tangible to happen that you could record and report back with. After moments of sweet nothing, he pushed himself away from the desk, chair legs screeching across the cracked floor as he gave himself enough room to stand. His wings spread in another stretch with an impressive span that almost hit wall to wall. They shuddered, feathers bristling before he tucked them close to his back once again and started removing his jacket. 

At this point you couldn’t blame him, the heat was intolerable regardless of what tiny space you just so happened to be crammed in. That black shirt beneath clung to his skin, tight and form fitted to every curve and bump of his lean muscle. There was no avoiding it; the man was damned beautiful, though you internally kicked yourself for such a thought while you were on a mission. Bringing your focus back to your target proved difficult however when he took hold of the bottom of his shirt and started to lift. Your mouth was cotton dry,  even at this angle you could see his firm abdominals as they were slowly revealed. You almost forgot to swallow, biting your lip hard enough to bruise it. Heat was rising, threatening to make you boil beneath your skin. Your stomach felt like it was twisting your guts and you had to grit your teeth to keep your body from twitching. Was this really ok? Granted you were here to spy on the hero but this seemed to take it a step too far. For a second you shut your eyes, carefully wiping your brow before forcing your attention back to Hawks who was now shirtless.

Just as you resigned yourself to your fate, a light tingle fluttered against the back of your neck. You ignored it, brushing off the feeling to remain still. Hawks spread his wings, flapping them as he stood to create a light pulse of air to rush through the grate you were looking through. Dust curled upwards and you felt your nose tickle and your eyes itch. He couldn’t have done that on purpose, he couldn’t have detected you in here just yet. Nose pinched and eyelids fluttering the tears away, you kept quiet and still, until that crawling sensation returned to the back of your neck. It was too firm to be sweat and it couldn’t have been your hair. Nausea swirled in your stomach at the thought of an insect exploring your skin. Gently you reached behind you, especially careful not to shift your weight as you reached for the offending creature. Your eyes bulged in their sockets as your fingertips brushed against a row of soft fronds. Fear swelled in your throat too thick to swallow. Instinctively you snatched and the second your fist curled around the object, you recognised the shape. Still you brought it to the light, dread clawing at your skin as you confirmed the crimson red feather between your fingers. 

“Enjoying the show?” 

The cocky drawl of his voice had you clenching your jaw. He knew you were here, he knew exactly where you were thanks to that blasted feather. The mission was over; now you were the target. There was no time to reason or bargain, you were dealing with a traitor who just so happened to be one of the strongest heroes in Japan. Golden eyes were now fully focused in your direction, though he couldn’t see you through the metal. His wings shuddered, opening fully before dozens of feathers released around him and pointed straight up. Time to run. Employing your quirk, you lashed yourself to the side of the vent behind you. You moved quickly, drawn to the surface like a magnet until you hit it with both feet. Feathers ripped through the airway and followed your lead, giving you no time to waste. Adjusting your position, you lashed yourself to the next side, effectively reversing back out of the shafts at a frantic speed. Finally you were able to point your feet up and bust back out onto the roof. The weaving vents helped in slowing down the feathers, but you had no doubt they were still following behind. Landing with a clumsy roll, you righted yourself and sprinted to the edge of the hospital. 

The breeze was a relief as you focused on the side of another building, the force of your quirk pulling your body towards it as though you’d been thrown. Your quirk had been difficult to master, often it would send you hurtling across a room with no control. Now you could switch it off and on at will, using it to lash yourself to an object as long as it was enough to support your weight. It allowed you to clear impossible distances in one jump, hopefully tonight it would allow you to shake off your pursuer. The city flashed by you in a blur as you picked up speed, rocketing from building to building. You twisted your body, chancing a look behind you. Hawks was following your movements quickly, beating his powerful wings to close the distance. The cocky bastard even had time to put his jacket back on before he gave chase. He would catch you if you continued like this, if not him then the horde of feathers that were also headed your way. It was obvious from his recent activity that Hawks didn’t want to be seen, so you had to bring this pursuit within the view of the public. 

Midway through your leap, you cancelled out your quirk and allowed yourself to freefall. Turning your head slightly, you couldn’t resist but throw a mock salute at the winged hero. Though he was a fair distance away, you could have sworn you could see a smirk splitting his face. You dropped between vast blocks of concrete. Before you fell too low, you reached out with your quirk once again and shot your way to the side of an office building. The chase was far from over and despite the stakes, a part of you was enjoying the thrill. You zipped through the city, lashing yourself from structure to structure. Hawks likely wouldn’t follow you himself, but there was a chance his feathers would. Charging through the twists and turns of the city at full speed was rapidly draining your energy. Limbs burned with promises of aches and pain for days to come after this. It didn’t matter though, all you had to do was retreat far enough in one burst then report back to your agency. Your lungs were burning by the time you made it to a dark corner of the city, a quiet area you seldom came to. You let yourself drop, utilising a weak pull of your quirk to drop yourself down and continue on foot. 

After rushing into an alley, you finally stopped to check your surroundings. No sign of feathers, no sign of Hawks. For a precaution you gave it a few moments before you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief. Your body ached, covered in a sheen of sticky sweat and who knows what else from the dusty air ducts. As you stripped your kevlar, you tapped your communicator and waited for a reply.

“Hey, I uh hit a snag.” you panted, leaning against the wall for support.

“So I can see, why the sudden escape?” Command had been tracking your movements, though you had to wonder if that had compromised you somehow.

Strictly for rescue they said, you had no reason to argue against it. 

“He knew I was there. More than that, he knew I was going to be there ahead of time. The second he arrived he was searching for me.” you explained, sweeping hair from your forehead. 

“I see. Are you safe?” 

At this point you could only make the assumption that you were. You didn’t think Hawks would risk being seen, not after he’d tried so hard to stay off the radar. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost him. Populated area, he won’t want to be seen here. He’s too easily recognised.” you replied, scoping out the buildings nearby. 

“He saw my quirk though, probably knows who I am…” 

Silence fell from the other line before you heard an exasperated sigh. 

“Then we’ll secure your home. I’ll send an escort to pick you up from this hotel, check in and get some rest while you’re waiting.” 

You expected as much. Though the thought of Villain lackeys invading your personal space made you sick to your stomach. 

“Thanks… I’ll head over there now.” 

After the adrenaline filtered out of your system you were left with a lead weight in your gut. The hotel location fed through on your watch and you trudged in it’s direction, limbs tingling and heavy from fatigue. The mission had failed and you had been revealed to the enemy, what a night… 

The hotel was pretty basic, not that it mattered. After checking in you had only one thing on your mind, a hot, soothing shower. Even stripping off your clothes was a chore, peeling them from your wet skin, they were left to fall into a heap, kevlar and all. Cooling water hit your flesh like a cleansing wash over your body. A low moan escaped you as you stood beneath the flow, gently covering the entirety of your tired form. Muscled relaxed, your tense shoulders finally dropped and you were finally at a comfortable temperature after enduring that damned humidity.  Mulling over the events of the day however, had you rubbing your temples in frustration. How did he know? That wolfish grin stuck in your mind like a splinter. Followed by the image of Hawks casually stripping before your eyes. Maybe you could at least take that as a consolation prize, it was a damned pleasing sight after all. You were almost disappointed that he hadn’t carried the charade on a little longer, given himself enough time to drop those trousers as well.

Mentally you shook yourself, attempting to push the thought out of your head but the more you tried, the deeper it was planted. Your hands roamed your body as you rinsed away the last of the shower gel. The thought of those gold, piercing eyes staring straight into yours sent pleasant tingles beneath your skin. You bit your lip before releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding before parting your legs. The mission failed, there was no harm in cheering yourself up a little, was there? The instant your fingers slipped between your thighs you began to feel relief from the building ache. Your breath hitched as you allowed your fingertips to roam the length of your folds before gently circling your already swollen clit. There was no stifling the mewl that drifted from your open mouth. His chiseled face, that cocky smile and that sculpted body were all you could see. You yearned to touch him, flutter your fingertips against his chest, along the ridges of his abs and further still. You wanted to see him above you, caging you in with those powerful arms. Fingers slipped between your slick petals, easily sliding inside you and you sighed in pleasure. Doing this to yourself over a suspected villain no less, was different. The danger, the rush you associated with him only made your body increase in sensitivity and you just couldn’t keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck…” you breathed, leaning against the cool tiling of the shower. 

You released a shaky breath, your fingers pulsing faster and faster at the thought of that beautiful man fucking you into next week. 

“H-Hawks…” 

Whispering his name only heightened the rush. With your free hand you reached for your breast, teasing and rolling your swollen nipple between your fingers.  

“Hawks… fuck me Hawks…” you whimpered a little louder for your own benefit.

“Maybe if you ask nicely…” 

The world stopped. Your body froze in place. That voice was unmistakable. That outline of a winged man waiting beyond the translucent shower curtain could only belong to one person. 

“Oh...shit.” was all you could muster as you pulled your fingers out. 

The bathroom became silent once you turned off the water, aside from a few nervous drips that seemed to emulate your pounding heartbeat. 

“I’ll save you some face, little bird.” he told you and you could hear the insufferable grin in his voice. 

“You can put this on before we have a little...chat.” 

He stepped towards the shower, slipping the bathrobe provided by the hotel past the curtain while the rest of him remained respectfully hidden. What choice did you have but to take it? Gingerly you accepted the robe, slipping it over your naked form and gaining back at least a little dignity. Once the belt was tied securely, the curtain was pulled back to reveal your target, free hand settled on his hips.

“Pardon the phrase but, if you come quietly it’ll make it easier on the both of us.” 

His tone was almost sickeningly pleasant and you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. He offered his hand to you, which understandably you were very hesitant to take. His smile faded, golden eyes flashing dangerously every second that lurched by. 

“I don’t have time for this.” he said bluntly.

Some of his larger feathers detached, floating to his sides to point directly at your throat. You lifted your head and backed away, knowing just how deadly these crimson blades could be. 

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about it, you can take a nap.” 

Before you could react, Hawks pulled a small capsule from his pocket and flicked it straight at you. Before it made impact, it split in two and it’s contents and burst into a small cloud of fine powder. You flinched and turned your head but it made no difference. The powder hit your nostrils and the effect was almost instant. Your head felt heavy as it swayed, your legs buckling as you were overwhelmed by a sickening dizziness.  Darkness enveloped the corners of your vision as you fell forward, caught by a pair of strong arms before everything faded to black.

The ground was cold beneath your bare feet. Your head lolled back in your sleepy haze. A firm grip bruised your wrist until your arms were locked into place above your head. Once the hold was released, you slumped to your knees and landed clumsily on a floor of concrete. Slowly your senses sharpened. A musty, damp scent filled your nose. The sticky humidity of the night air was chased away by the chill of your wet hair. Your limbs were still weak, bones as useful as jelly as your eyelids fluttered open. The light was dim and it took a while for your eyes to adjust. Warm fingertips slid against your jaw, gently lifting your head as a bottle of water was placed against your parted lips. 

“Drink up little bird, don’t want you getting sick on me now…” 

His voice could have been soothing in the right setting. But Hawks wasn’t playing the part of a hero anymore. 

“How considerate…” you mumbled, blurred vision slowly climbing back to normalcy. 

He chuckled, dragging a steel chair to sit across backwards. 

“Still got that smart mouth even now... does that make you gutsy, or stupid?” 

Tugging at your wrists proved worthless. The rope was secured tight, fastened neatly around both arms yet surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Which one gets me outta here alive?” you replied back, a weak smile forming on your lips. 

He clicked his teeth, wings folding neatly behind him as he rest his chin on his forearms. 

“Oh does it have to be so final? I just wanted to ask you some questions…” 

He sounded eerily calm, as though he hadn’t just kidnapped a pro hero and tied them up in a grungy warehouse. You shifted your weight, the drowsy feeling now dissolved into irritating tingles throughout your arms and legs. 

“My name is (y/n), I like long walks on the beach if  you wanna know my star sign is-”

A bark of laughter cut you off. 

“Funny little bird, aren’t you?” he said between giggling, “But the sooner you comply, the quicker we can get outta here… so let’s get serious…” 

His tone lowered, his gaze fixed with those dangerous golden orbs locked with yours. Casually he plucked out a feather, idly twirling between his fingers. 

“I already know your agency, figured that much out when I saw your quirk.” 

Your lips pressed together in a tight line. If Hawks was working with the Villains now, did that mean he could focus their attention on you? A shudder danced up your spine and you weren’t sure if it was due to the cold, or the way Hawks was looking you up and down, like a predator cornering it’s wounded prey. 

“But I wanna know who put you on this mission, which suit gave the order to spy on me?”

It was a simple enough question, too bad you didn’t have a decent answer for him. Averting your gaze, you chewed your bottom lip as you tried to access the situation. Part of you wanted to believe Hawks hadn’t quite crossed over to the other side, that he wouldn’t harm you even if you didn’t obey him. He clicked his teeth and released the feather. 

“C’mon now little bird, don’t force my hand here…” he grunted. 

You watched as the scarlet blade floated closer, inching it’s way nearer to your face. In a split second more had joined of various sizes, all pointed at your prone body. 

“I’m sure you know these feathers aren’t gonna tickle, so how about you tell me what I need to know…” 

His face had darkened, his grip on the back of the chair tightened making it creak. 

“I… I don’t know. I wasn’t there for the meeting, I was just asked to take this on by my usual team…” you meekly replied, gauging his face for some sort of reaction. 

He simply stared for a moment before exhaling a breath he’d apparently been holding. Yet the feathers remained pointed at you. 

“Fine. Then what were your orders?” 

He sighed out that last question. In the low light you could just about see dark circles resting beneath both eyes. His hair was in it’s usual shaggy style, flopping over his brow in strands that you wanted to smooth back in spite of yourself. Yet there were more than a few fly aways, something a little more unkempt to   what you were used to seeing. 

“Uh, you want me to recount the entire briefing?” you bit back with a raised eyebrow. 

The chair screeched as he shoved it away, stepping clear of it to close the gap between you and crouch down to your level. At this proximity you could smell his cologne, along with another scent reminiscent of baked goods. Even now, tied up with feather blades inches away from cutting your flesh, you could feel the heat at your core returning. He said nothing, instead letting his deadpan expression make the threats for him. 

“L-look I… I don’t have any details. You stopped contact with the Heroes, they sent somebody to check on you.” 

It was true to a point. You weren’t entirely sure what else he needed to hear, but you stopped searching for extras when that smile slowly reappeared on his handsome face. 

“They sent you. A fresh faced new hero to catch me in the act. They sent you after the number two hero expecting a job well done?” 

His feathers drooped, turning away from you before they fit back into his wings as he stretched them out to accommodate. His head dropped, fingers pinching his brow in frustration. His words stung. It was true you were a relatively new hero, but you had still made it into a prestigious agency. Hawks rubbed his eyes before raising his gaze back up to meet yours. 

“Oh little bird don’t give me that face, you’ll break my heart.” 

He reached out, tucking wayward hair back behind your ear. His fingertips barely grazed your skin, yet the effect was powerful. Gooseflesh erupted down your arms and a tingling shiver rattled your limbs. 

“Honestly I was impressed. You’re scarily good at covering your tracks. The only problem is when you find a mark with a big mouth, the information goes both ways.” he grinned. 

You flashed back to your nights at the bar. The suited man you had flirted relentlessly with for just a hint of a trail must have mentioned you to his colleagues. As careful as you had been in your line of questioning, it stood to reason that Hawks would have been overly cautious about who had his name in their mouth. Your head dropped a little, a defeated smile on your face. 

“I guess the gamble didn’t quite pay off…” you lamented, shifting your legs and pressing your thighs together. 

He was still close, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin even when he wasn’t directly touching you.

“That’s the way it goes sometimes… Though I have to say I’m disappointed I didn’t get to see the short, black number he described… what was it he said exactly? That it left nothing to the imagination?” 

Oh now he looked damned pleased with himself. That wolfish grin urged you to shuffle back against the wall as much as you could, not that you could go any further. Blood rushed to your cheeks and your eyes were wide and unblinking.  THis cocky bastard was flirting. 

“W-well I don’t see how you can complain given you caught me in my birthday suit!” 

The words came out of your mouth before your brain could catch up and stop you. He caught you alright, he caught you two fingers deep and calling out his damned name and you just reminded him of that. He held up his hand, eyes sparkling in amusement. 

“Ah no, I saw your silhouette. I wouldn’t peek on a lady taking a shower, I’m not some sort of pervert…” 

Something about his crooked smile sparked rebellion. You pulled at your ropes and moved closer to him.

“Oh? Then what was with that mini strip show at the hospital?” 

Your voice wavered a little more than you wanted it to. Hawks’s wings twitched and he turned his head to the side. 

“Did you enjoy the view, little bird?”

His voice spilled from him like liquid velvet. Your breath hitched, heart drumming obnoxiously against your chest and he was getting closer. 

“Is this how I’ll get my answers from you? With honey instead of vinegar…” 

He was an inch away. If your hands weren’t bound you could have touched him so easily. He rocked onto his knees, his fingers curled beneath your chin to keep you still.

“Why don’t we recreate that little fantasy you were having at the hotel…” 

His voice was a whisper before his lips pressed against yours. His mouth was hot, demanding and suffocating, everything you imagined it would be. You whimpered against him, wide eyes shutting as you dropped your defenses and fell into his movements.

“What a pretty sound…” he growled, breaking the kiss with a bite on your bottom lip. “I wanna hear more…” 

You gasped as he trailed a path of kisses along your jawline, locks of hair tickling your face as he closed in on your sensitive neck. Teeth grazing your skin left you breathless and wanting. Fingertips trailed up your exposed thigh, giving it a firm squeeze as his lips and tongue continued to toy with you. 

“Ah-Hawks…” you breathed, voice shamelessly laden with lust. 

He hummed as he sucked your flesh, biting down softly. 

“D-did you betray the heroes? Are you… are you really working with the Villains?” 

His mouth stilled, leaving a soft kiss behind before he pulled back to meet your gaze. 

“If I say yes, will you want me to stop?” he asked simply, hand resting on your leg. 

The hero side of you screamed internally. You couldn’t sleep with a goddamned traitor, you were supposed to be part of the solution. A role model, a shining light in the dark. Yet for weeks on end this man had occupied your thoughts. You had gone to extreme lengths to find him, reading up about every little detail you could to get to know him. It had become something of an obsession, the drive to succeed and impress your agency transformed into figuring out the mystery that was Keigo. And now he had you captured and the only feeling that was clear in the confusion was the heat thrumming from your core. 

“..No, I don’t want you to stop…” you admitted, falling further into the pit. 

His feathers bristled, audibly rustling before they settled once again. His shoulders dropped, as though tension had been released. 

“Good… cause I really didn’t want to.” 

He captured your mouth again, kissing you without restraint. His hands slipped beneath your thighs and suddenly you were lifted as he stood. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The rope binding you was slack yet you were still restrained, pushed up against the wall and trapped between it and the muscular body pressing your front. He took your arms and looped them around his neck, ensuring you were both trapped with each other.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” he growled as he bit your neck, sucking and bruising it, marking you as his.

“You’re not the only one who’s been spying little bird…” 

You wanted to respond, hell you would have if your head wasn’t swimming in lust as though it was the only thing that mattered. One arm was all he needed to hold you steady, while the other slipped between you and untied the belt to your gown. 

“Once I knew you were tailing me, I had to know more.”  

The robe fell open, exposing you completely to him. He took his sweet time, fingertips trailing a line between your breasts. 

“You’re a hardworking hero… throwing yourself at danger whenever you can…” 

Your mouth fell open in a needy mewl as he took hold of your breast and ran his thumb over your nipple. 

“Y-you… you were watching me?” you moaned. 

He closed his lips over the swollen bud, tongue circling and flicking and teasing. Your hips rolled against him and he groaned against your skin as you pressed against his painfully hard cock that was still trapped in his clothes. He released your nipple with a gentle bite. 

“A little… but it was enough.” 

He drifted lower, drawing a light pattern on your tummy, looping your hip bone before finally slipping between your wide open legs. He sucked his teeth as he gently slid a finger tip over your clit and down to your swollen, silken petals. 

“Fffffuck… you’re so wet for me little bird.” 

He growled at your ear, slowly toying with your slick flesh. You threw your head back and moaned without restraint, shifting your hips in an attempt for more much needed friction. 

“E-enough f-for what?” you managed to ask, lips trembling as you spoke. 

His hand stilled and he gave you a soft kiss before he plunged two of his long fingers inside you. 

“Enough for me to know I fucking wanted you…” 

You practically squealed, your soaking wet hole welcoming him with ease. He pressed upwards, curling his finger against that soft, spongy flesh he knew would drive you crazy. 

“Damn… this pussy feels good little bird, so fuckin’ tight…” 

He added a second finger and fucked you with them, pumping in and out of you vigorously. You barely noticed when he let you go with his other arm given how hard you were clinging to him. He unzipped his fly and popped the button, his belt jingling as he let it fall with the waistband of his pants. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as you moved with his rhythm, desperate for more, needing to be filled. 

“Fuck! H-Hawks… please!” 

So ready for him it hurt, a tingling ache that could only be sated by him. He shoved his mouth against yours, muffling your desperate mewls. 

“You know what I’m waiting for baby… say it again for me, I need to hear it…”

He was just as breathless as you, his cheeks and ears tinged a bright pink. 

“Fuck me, Hawks… please? Oh god fuck me Hawks!” 

He cursed like a sailor, snarling as he grabbed your hips squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Good girl…” was all he could manage before fully sheathing himself within your tight entrance. 

He took a second to adjust, groaning against your neck as though he felt the same sense of relief that you did. Locked together, holding on tight as you could and your toes curled when he shifted his hips and finally started to thrust. 

“Oh fuck… little bird you feel better than I imagined… fuuuuck…” 

Your cries echoed throughout the warehouse. The huge space filled with the noise of your clashing flesh. He filled you so well, hitting every sensitive spot inside you and you could feel your core tighten with pleasure, building up to that explosive release you so desperately needed. 

“Yeah baby, keep makin’ those sounds… I fuckin’ live for them…” 

His hair was splayed in locks over his face and his forehead was shiny with sweat. He grit his teeth, face contorted with animalistic pleasure and you couldn’t help but think that he was more beautiful than ever. With your arms still clasped around his neck, you pulled him into a kiss, tongue hungrily invading his mouth as he continued to fuck you up against the wall. 

“K-Keigo… oh god…”

He grunted against you, pushing himself deeper inside. Your thighs trembled as they gripped his slim waist. 

“What is it little bird… you wanna cum for me?” 

His teeth raked along the shell of your ear, his voice vibrating against it. 

“Then start fucking begging…”

Your voice collapsed into a needy whine. His demands simultaneously frustrated and exhilarated you, enhancing every touch, every thrust of his hips and lick of his tongue. He owned you in this moment and god you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“P-please… Keigo please I need it!” 

Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears as the build slowed along with his pace. He filled you to the hilt, only to slowly retract, making you jerk your hips for more friction.

“Please make me cum… Please make me cum Keigo!” 

He groaned low in his chest, kissing your ear before he adjusted his position. 

“Ooohh that’s it, good girl… such a fucking good girl.” 

His arm slipped between you, his thumb gently pressing against that swollen pearl of nerves. He circled it, moving it in rhythm with his powerful trusts. Heat spread from your core, like flames licking at your skin. Your limbs were trembling as he pulled you to the brink, you couldn’t think and you could barely breathe as he fucked you closer and closer to that freeing release you were both craving. 

“Fuck little bird… fuck I’m gonna…” 

You cried out his name, morals thoroughly abandoned as you thanked him for every touch, every thrust he gave to you. Darkness teased at the corners of your vision, threatening to pull you under as waves of white, hot pleasure rocked through your body. Your grip around him tightened, as did his around you and he continued to fuck you hard through your climax. It didn’t take much for him to reach his own, mouth hanging open as he moaned your name, painting the walls of your cunt with thick, streams of cum. His forearm crashed against the wall, ensuring he didn’t crush you when he slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against yours as you both panted for air. He let loose a breathy chuckle as he carefully pulled himself out. 

“That did it for you huh? You wanted to get nasty and fuck a Villain?” he breathed, unhooking your tired arms from around his neck. 

Carefully he lowered your legs, allowing you to stand with his assistance. 

“No… just you.” 

Your answer seemed to catch him off guard. Arrogance drained from his features and was replaced by a genuine, almost shy smile. Using the wall for support, you wrapped yourself back up in the robe. But still your legs were bare and your feet were pressed against a relentlessly cold floor, sending an unwelcome shiver up your spine. Hawks’ mouth pressed into a tight line as he buckled himself back up again. 

“Come here little bird…” 

This time you took his hand, letting him turn you around and hold you from behind. His wings spread, wrapping around the both of you in a welcomingly soft cocoon. You hummed as you felt their warmth, snuggling a little closer in his arms. 

“You know… the Heroes Association sent you as bait.” he began, his mouth moving against your scalp. 

“They got no proof I’ve done anything wrong, not yet. So they sent a naive little hero after me… hoping I would be pushed into doing something desperate to cover my tracks…” 

You turned your head, catching his tired eyes with yours. 

“Are you doing something wrong Hawks?” 

The wings around you shivered and a breeze of air ruffled your hair as he sighed above you.

“There’s… there’s something I have to do and… the Villains can help me do that.” 

His hands seemed to tense up against you as he waited for your response. 

“And the heroes can’t?” 

His hands met your waist and he turned you to face him, keeping his wings in place. 

“The heroes are the problem little bird.”

His knuckles grazed your cheekbone and for once you saw no trace of that trademark confidence in his face.

“I’m tired of those untouchable bastards pulling the strings and watching us puppets dance.”

Something about him was so sincere, so vulnerable that you couldn’t find it in yourself to call him a liar. There had been rumors and whisperings since you started getting scouted, corruption at the top of the chain. Maybe that’s what he was referring to. 

“Then… does that mean you won’t accept help from a hero anymore?” 

He huffed a stifled laugh, kissing you softly on your nose. 

“That depends on the hero. Maybe I could be persuaded…”

#bnha hawks #bnha fanfiction #bnha #mha #villain!hawks #keigo takami

[thesightstoshowyou]

Exposed

Dead by Daylight’s Michael Myers x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Michael saves his favorite toy for last. Lucky you.

Warnings: Dubcon, violence, blood, gore, torture, slapping, rib trauma, biting, creampie, reader “death”

This was inspired by @slasherholic and their wonderful headcanons regarding Michael’s obsession in DBD.

 ~~

             You lick the sweat from your lip and peer around the corner of the dilapidated house, your current resting position. Your chest heaves, trembling legs aching from hours of running. Flashing red and blue from the abandoned police car obscures your vision so you pull back and focus on reining in your panicked breaths. He’ll hear you if you don’t get yourself under control.

             You haven’t seen Myers for a good twenty minutes, but you know he’s close. He’s always close, always one step ahead, patiently waiting for your final misstep. Only then will he strike.

             This game, this dance between the two of you has become as inevitable as Michael himself. As soon as you spot the white mask through the mist, see the fist tighten around the handle of his knife, you know there will be no escape for you, no painless end. You’re Michael’s favorite toy and now you’re the only one left.

             He always saves you for last. The others are gone, sacrificed to the Entity who must now begrudgingly humor Michael as he takes his time, stalking, chasing, herding you in the direction he wants. You’re not so arrogant to think you’re quick enough to evade him, no. You’re only alive because he wants you to be.

             Still, you try to escape. Pushing to your feet, you creep across the yard, scurrying and hunched, until your back is pressed to the tire of the police car. Boots smack on asphalt and you clap your hand to your mouth, dropping to the ground to peer under the car.

             Bloodied, black boots cross the street, then pause, listening. You hear the slow, even breathing, a sound that never fails to send a thrill of fear down your spine. Unhurried steps tap, measured and calculating until he’s striding down the street, moving away from you.

             He knows where you are, you’re certain, but he must not be done playing yet. As quiet as you can, you crawl around to the back of the car. Peering past the trunk, you find the street empty in both directions.

             Then, your heart stutters. The hatch! There, in the middle of the street, just a block away. Can you make it?

             You chance one last glance up and down the street. Inhaling, you launch yourself forward, stepping as lightly but as quickly as you can. It’s there, just a few feet away—

             A noisy thud to your left makes you whip your head around just in time to watch Michael vault over the top of the rusty Ford beside you. You shriek, try to dart between two cars but a fist closes around the collar of your shirt. Fabric rips as you pull away, but then you’re grabbed around the waist, hauled clean off your feet, and thrown into the street with such force you bounce.

             You groan, roll onto your stomach in an attempt to crawl but a boot on your back stops you, pins you to the ground. Slowly, Michael pushes down, grinds his heel into your spine until you’re gasping. You whimper when you feel your ribs straining under the force of his sole.

             Michael doesn’t relent, instead shoving his full weight down until you feel a ‘pop.’ A scream erupts from your throat, one you immediately silence when sharp pain stabs you in the side with your inhale. Michael lets off, rolling you onto your back with the toe of his boot before seating himself on your thighs.

             You don’t fight now. You’re caught, he’s won, and now he’s going to collect his prize. Struggling would only excite him anyway; he might get too carried away and kill you before he gets to your favorite part. You’re already slick between the thighs with memories of your last meeting.  

             As much as you dread this endless game, fear the bite of his knife, you can’t help but crave the feeling of his hands on you, the meticulous way he peels back every layer until he finds what he’s looking for. You’re not sure what about you interests him so much, but some dark part of you is glad he discovered it. Trials with Michael always break up the monotony of this hell hole.

             Heavy breaths pour from his mask as he leans over you and tears the rest of your shirt away. You pant as well, heaving shallow inhales to avoid the agony of a full breath. You flinch when he retrieves the knife from the ground beside him, metal scraping on asphalt with a terrifying rattle.

             You clench your eyes shut when he sets the point against your torso, yelping when Michael delivers a stinging slap to your cheek. Your eyes fly open and he fists a hand in your hair, tipping your head down to make sure you’re watching when he cuts into you. He wants you to see it.

             With deliberate precision, Michael traces the blade just beneath your injured rib. Blood wells up along the cut and spills down your waist to drip onto the ground and soak into your jeans. Your hiss of pain turns into a scream when he does the same to the flesh above the rib. Violently, you shake under him, trying your best not to thrash and mess up his little project.

             He drops your head to free up a hand so he can dig his fingers into your flesh. The screams tearing from your throat echo so loudly in your ears you can hardly hear the squelch and tear of muscle and sinew as it’s pulled away to reveal white bone beneath. Burning hot agony, wretched, nauseating torture sends you reeling, the landscape around you blurring as tears well in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks.

             Bloodied fingers slide along your exposed rib bone, tracing the rough surface and you realize with a start that he’s searching for where it’s cracked. Michael’s curious fingers pause when he locates what he’s after. You utter a strangled shout when he pushes against the fracture, lightly at first, then harder until the bone completely snaps in half with a sickening crunch you feel more than hear. You sob, nails scrabbling against the street until your fingers bleed. Michael simply watches, good eye sliding leisurely from your wound to your face, apathetic to your misery.

             Suddenly, Michael’s weight disappears from your legs. He grips your hips, flipping you onto your stomach before wrenching your jeans down to your knees. The movement jostles your wound, your hoarse screech burning its way out of your throat.

             Michael lifts your hips with one hand and presses on the side of your face with the other so your cheek grinds uncomfortably into the asphalt. Hard, hot flesh pushes against your slippery entrance and you’re so relieved he’s finally going to fuck you that you let out a shaky moan. In one, smooth thrust, Michael hilts himself.

             You grit your teeth as he sets a frenzied pace, hammering you into the ground, every jerk of his hips jarring your mangled side. Your cunt flutters around the cock assaulting your insides as your muscles attempt to adjust to the sudden stretch. Road burn blossoms along your cheek where’s its smashed against the ground, a new sensation to add to the list of hurts.

             Still, even through dizzying pain, you feel warm pleasure roiling in your belly. It’s astounding, really, how Michael is still able to make you cum even after everything else he’s done to you. This is not his goal, of course, just a fortunate side effect of his rough treatment.  

             The hand on your face disappears and you hear the squeak of rubber behind you as Michael removes his mask. Then, fingers wrap around your throat, lifting your head off the ground and pulling until your back arches. The stretch at your ribs makes you scream, vision narrowing to pinpoints for a moment before brightening again. Blood gushes from the wound, staining your skin bright scarlet as it splatters onto the road.

             Michael bends down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, hard enough to draw your attention away from your aching side, if only for a moment. He keeps you like this—arched, bleeding—as he viciously pistons his hips. He bites your neck this time, the crunch of tendons between his teeth making bile rise in your throat.

             While you still have the presence of mind to speak, you murmur his name, the stammered, “M-Michael,” making him bite you again under the ear as he wraps a possessive arm around your waist. Michael crushes you to his chest, pummeling your twitching cunt so hard you wonder if he’s going to break something else.

             When you finally cross that beautiful precipice, the delicious knot of pleasure in your core finally unravelling, you’re blessed with one of Michael’s rare vocalizations, a raspy groan you can feel vibrating against your back. You moan your appreciation when his hips stutter and jerk. Warmth spills into your cunt, only to dribble out around the cock stuffed inside you until it’s trickling down your quivering thighs.

             Brusquely, Michael drops you, but you no longer possess the strength to catch yourself. Your heated cheek smacks against cool asphalt and you groan in pain, every fiber in your body alight and frayed. Michael’s fingers dig into the flesh of you ass and spread you open so he can watch his seed drip from your abused slit.

             Then, you’re rolled onto your back once more. Utterly exhausted, you only manage a pathetic whimper of pain when the movement jars the gaping, oozing wound in your side. The mask has returned, red and blue lights reflecting off its smooth surface.

             Michael crawls over you once more, bending low, bringing his masked face inches from your own. You hear the deep, steady breaths, meet the blue eye intently studying your face. You gasp when he slips the knife into your chest, burying the blade to the hilt in your heart. Blood fountains up out of your throat and you choke on copper, splattering gore across the white face hovering above you.

             Your eyelids droop. One, last haggard breath gurgles in your bloody throat. Little by little, your muscles relax, pain draining away until there’s nothing but black.

             Then, the crackling of a fire meets your ears. You keep your eyes closed for a moment, imprinting the memory of Michael’s arm wrapped around your waist, the sound he’d made when he came, the color of his eyes as he’d observed you. As always, you do your best to quell the smile that threatens to spread across your face.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #the shape #the shape x reader #dbd michael myers #dbd the shape #dead by daylight #dbd #slashers #slasher x reader #halloween 1978 #halloween #dubcon #blood #my writing #violence #dbd michael myers x reader

[spritewrites]

day 2: hiding

“How do you float, Essek?”

It’s… not an unusual question, in and of itself. Rather, he would get it frequently when he was younger, back when it was a fascination, before everyone in his life simply adjusted to this fact of his daily existence. And he hasn’t brought anyone new into his life in… well. A long time.

Still, it’s been some time since he’s been asked in such a genuinely curious way. More often, those who inquire have their own motivations; perhaps they’d like to do it themselves, or they’re looking for a way to undermine the arcane nature of the trick, to manipulate it somehow. Essek doesn’t blame them. He has his own motivations as well. Best to keep it a mystery to those so like himself.

But the tilt of her head, the shine in her eye… Jester’s intrigued, not manipulative. At least. Not manipulative right now.

“It’s a spell I developed in my graviturgy lessons.”

She blinks. “How far off the ground are you?”

“Oh…” Essek glances down. “Perhaps six inches, typically.”

Jester grins, her tail flicking. “You must be pretty short, then.”

He gives her a look, the practiced one that always used to put Verin off his teasing. She doesn’t seem deterred.

“You know…” Suddenly she’s very near, lifting her chin and nearly scraping his jaw with the tip of a horn. “You might not be much taller than me, Essek.”

Well. Entirely of its own accord, Essek’s face grows warm. “I—I can assure you that I am taller than you. At least, ah. I mean. At least a bit—”

“But how can we know?” Jester says, her eyes enormous and innocent. “You always hide under this giant—whatever you call it.”

“Mantle.”

“Sure.” She leans forward, peering into the folds of fabric. “Is there even anything under there?”

“Excuse me? Of course there—ah—”

A blue finger prods right into his middle, pushing into the layers of heavy fabric, and finding contact with his stomach. For a moment, he’s certain that she’s cast something, electricity sparking at the point of pressure. Before he can stop himself, Essek flinches, hands flying up to wrap around his torso—but then her touch is gone, and with it, that odd feeling.

There’s some kind of sparkle in Jester’s eye that he doesn’t trust, and she’s looking at him like… like a predator, almost, fangs poking over the edge of her grin. He knew the sweetness had to be an act.

Essek adjusts his mantle, clearing his throat. “I can assure you that I am a complete person.”

“A completely ticklish person,” Jester says, and she reaches to poke him again. His stomach reacts before he can, curving away, but she’s quick, quicker than him—this one lands at the bottom of his ribcage, prompting that spark of sensation again. Essek grits his teeth.

“Ex-excuse me, Jester—”

There’s more pokes, now, coming faster, and each is lingering a little, scratching at its destination. “Why didn’t you tell us, Essek?” she asks, giggling as he curls into himself midair. “I would’ve tickled you sooner if I knew you were so twitchy!”

“That’s—that’s exactly why I—oh, wait, wait—”

Essek grits his teeth, clamping down on the flood of laughter he feels bubbling up in his lungs, as she tickles viciously into the folds of his cloak. For all his layers, he can feel every scrape of claw, every wriggle of mischievous tiefling fingers in the spaces of his ribs, the curve of his side, the quiver of his stomach.

“Hnn—nno, no plehease—”

Jester’s speaking, something fizzy and saccharine, but it’s impossible to hear over his heartbeat in his ears, the effort of trying to hold himself together too great to even attempt a proper escape. His arms feel less like limbs and more like limp noodles that swat ineffectively at her, barely making an impact on her relentless assault.

Oh, gods, he’s going to die.

One of her claws works its way into an armpit, and by the Light, this has to be some kind of spell, because nothing on this plane should tickle this fucking much. His elbows shoot to his sides, trying to squeeze her hand out of the vulnerable space, but it’s too late—her fingers are lodged, wriggling away, and without his hands to cover his mouth, he’s absolutely fucked.

With a snort that would make his mother faint, Essek squeaks and squirms and bursts into giggles. They’re pouring from him, uncontrollable and all-consuming, and he can feel a flush creep up his ears at the sound.

He… honestly can’t remember the last time he laughed, at least not genuinely, and he’s not sure that he’s giggled like this since he’s been able to walk. It’s quite embarrassing, all told, but there’s also a kind of release in it, a relaxing of his shoulders, a bending of his spine, an unclenching of his jaw—

“There now.”

Suddenly the electricity is gone, as soon as it started, the tingles vanishing with her retreating hands. Jester’s bouncing on her toes, looking for all the world like nothing had just happened. “See? You have such a nice smile.”

There are any number of things that he could have expected her to say, but that was… certainly not one of them. Luckily, diplomacy takes over before he can blush any further.

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“And you’re not as short as I thought!”

With a start, Essek glances down. Sure enough, the ground is firm beneath his boots, brought back to him by all that dreadful tickling causing him to lose the spell.

Well, actually.

Was it dreadful?

…Never mind.

“I did tell you I wasn’t that short.”

Jester regards his planted feet carefully. “You know, with all that floating, I bet those are pretty ticklish too.”

Essek breathes in, breathes out, and calmly decides not to cause a political disaster. “Don’t push it.”

#critickle role #tickletober2021 #samstickletober2021

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 11

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word Count: 2,323

Warnings: Cursing, emotional upset, physical violence, and mature themes.

A/N:

It's been over a month since I updated this. Omg, I am so sorry! Just a little life update: the reason I've been pretty damn inactive is because I was healing from surgery, and I also got a new job. SO, I've been busy and I'm sorry. I love writing this series so much, it's really so much fun and it makes me so happy that people like it!

Chapter 10 Chapter 12

At first, everything went black. For a brief moment, you thought you were dead. The sore feeling of hitting the dirt floor slowly making itself known. Groans and grunts from the others soon followed.

"Is everyone alright?" Toga called out in the darkness. A series of disgruntled replies followed.

"Alright, roll call." Shigaraki groaned. "Toga."

"Here."

"Twice."

"Absent!"

"Spinner."

"I'm okay."

"Dabi."

"Alive."

"Y/N."

"Here."

"I can't see a damn thing. Is anyone injured?" Everyone grumbled a resounding 'I'm fine.'

"Ouch!" A loud thud. Spinner cursed under his breath, having hit his head on the debris that fell above you.

"We're safe in here for now, but we're still sitting ducks. Once Deku finds us-"

"He's not going to. Dabi, a light." Shigaraki demanded. Soon Dabi admitted a torch-like flame from his hand. Letting you see your roughed up and dirty friends.

"What's the plan now, genius?" Dabi mocked.

"Y/N, do you remember when I said we're digging our way out?"

"Yeah."

"I can use my quirk to rot a tunnel for us to escape. But with all this debris, I can't be sure doing that won't make everything unstable and cause it to cave in and crush us. I need you to keep things stable."

"Stable? I don't understand."

"If you can hold debris from falling on us, then you can hold the rest from crushing us or dropping us any further. Do you understand?" He growled.

"Yes." He knelt down and waited for you to activate your quirk before planting his palms to the ground. The dirt below cracking and crumbling underneath, giving way little by little. It was working. But the feeling of hope soon dissipated, turning into sour dread in the pit of your stomach. The low rumbling was getting louder and louder. The debris above your head that had settled was now shaking and small pieces of the building began to trickle down on you. The heroes were here.

"Hurry Tomura!" Toga pleaded.

"Shut up! One wrong move and we all drop!" He spat back. Suddenly Dabi dropped his flame, plunging you back into darkness as the earth rattled under you.

"Shigaraki, stop. If this comes down on us I can't hold both the ground and the debris at once." You told him. He let out a frustrated growl in response. A loud cracking sound came from above, followed by an overwhelmingly loud shuffle. You dropped your grip on the ground in favor of saving the others. Holding onto the debris as it fell on top of you. The weight was heavy, for a moment your knees buckled, and your fear dropping. You swayed before adjusting your stance.

"Y/N!" Toga shouted with concern. The debris fell around you. Dust clouding your vision with a layer of smoke. Your small group coughed and gagged on the fragments entering your poor lungs. Soon you tossed the hold above you aside, in favor of falling to the ground and catching your breath. You couldn't see, you could hardly hear, your lungs filled with dust and debris as you beat your chest in an attempt to be free of it.

"That's it! You're finished!" A deep grumble shouted from afar. You finally opened your eyes to watch the distant image of heroes sauntering towards you. Deku and Dyna-Might. You panted. No. No. You cursed. No. You can't go back. Not now. Not when you aided in their escape. Sure maybe you could get away with claiming that they threatened you. Technically, they did. But more importantly, you didn't WANT to go back. You didn't want to go home. You wanted to stay with Toga. With Twice, with Spinner, with Dabi even. With, Shigaraki.

As dread sunk to the pit of your stomach, another sound from behind caught your attention. The sound of a vehicle coming to a stop. You slowly turned your head to find a truck parked close by. A familiar figure leaning out of the window and wildly waving his arm to greet you.

"Compress!" Toga shouted in surprise.

"How the fuck-"

"Hurry! Everyone in!" He called. You went to fallow the rest as they made their way to the escape vehicle.

"Shit! Not on my watch!" Dyna-Might growled. Propelling himself forward with his blasters. You had to act fast. Using your quirk to grab ahold of more debris and striking him down with it.

"Kachan!" Deku shouted. "Y/L/N! Why!?" You froze. Watching as the horribly confused young man shuffled closer to you. The way he looked at you, betrayal was written across his face. So this was him. This was the boy your father favored over you. The boy that got the attention and the affection and the care YOU deserved. Your heart felt too broken for you to cry. You'd reached that point already, it was beyond that now. Now you felt solid, cold, rage.

"Stand down young Deku." A familiar voice ordered. In the shadows of the still subsiding clouds, his large hulking figure approached. You watch him come into full view.

"Dad..." You whisper softly. Toga's attention snapped back to the action, reaching for your wrist to pull you towards the escape vehicle.

"Come on Y/N, let's go!" She begged. You yanked your hand away from her. The others turned to watch you. All of them expecting the worst from you. You turned to look back at them with a determined and resigned expression.

"Go."

"Wha-Y/N-"

"Go! I'll do what I can! Just go!" And with that Toga gave a nod before running back to the truck. Shigaraki, hesitant to board, watched you for a moment as the others grabbed and pulled him in.

"Y/N." Your father spoke in a stern voice. The kind of voice a parent uses when a child is in trouble. He's never spoken to you like this before. It only makes your anger grow. Why? Why is THIS the first time he's ever spoken to you like this!? Why!?

"I thought you couldn't use your quirk anymore!" You shouted at him.

"With a healthy diet and good exercise, anything is possible!" The worried expression on Deku's face said otherwise. That means this is temporary. All Might is a distraction, Deku is the real threat here. You heard the truck's engine roar as it sped away. Your heart beating out of your chest as you watched him dart for the others. Quickly you threw another stack of debris towards him. Crashing into and halting his attack. It was a minor inconvenience, allowing him to blast through it, leaving him with nothing but a scratch. A second throw had the same effect, he was getting closer and closer. You couldn't let that happen. The others had to escape.

Your panic and rage built up, you reached out to grab ahold of him. Dangling him in the air like a rag doll.

"Y/N! Put him down!" Your father ordered.

"So you're the kid I've heard so much about." You growled. "You've made quite a name for yourself already haven't you?" Deku furrowed his brow, flicking a finger out and blasting a powerful gust towards you. It threw you off, forcing you to drop him. He landed easily and made a dash for the now distant truck.

You reached back behind you to grab him again and throw him to the floor. Hitting his head on the concrete, giving him a concussion. You gave an amused chuckle as you watched the poor boy struggle to get back up.

"Hehe, really dad? These are your successors!? These are the CHILDREN you CHOSE!?" You screamed.

"Stop this Y/N! This isn't you! Come home!"

"Fuck you dad!" Before he could answer again, you were being swept off your feet. Dyna-Might snatched you up with one arm, flying through the sky and circling around.

"Ungrateful brat! We saved your life!" He screamed into your ear. Grabbing ahold of his shoulder you pounded punch after punch into his head until he abruptly flew onto the roof of another building. Diving and ripping apart the cement as you relentlessly bullied him.

When he finally stilled, you shrugged off the bits of concrete lost in your hair and clothes. You stood and looked around, deciding to hop down the several stories up with the help of your quirk.

"Y/N!" Your mother's voice cut through. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach.

"Mom?" You asked, turning to see her hopping off a truck surrounded by police cars. "No. No. Go away." You told her through whispers. Unable to hear she began to jog towards you. "No!" You shouted. Using your quirk to pull another car in her way before running off. Maybe you could lose them in the city. But as you turned, Deku dropped down in front of you.

"Y/N, please. We're not here to hurt you." He pleaded.

"Fuck you!" You shrieked, activating your quirk and attempting to throw him back again. Only for him to use his quirk to throw you off. This went back and forth, backing him up against a wall. Until another blow came down on top of you. The intense heat of an explosion throwing you to the ground. You let out a defeated grunt before pulling a dumpster close by and dragging it over to knock them away again. Making another break for it. You limped down the road. Your body now sore and aching, your head pounding, your heart burning in your chest. You wheezed.

You felt weak but your body buzzed with an uncomfortable amount of energy. Then the sirens came, loud and upsetting. They abstracted your senses and took over your vision as the flashing lights came in droves. You cursed under your breath. Soon the cars parked and cop after cop after cop drew their weapons. You shook with rage and sadness. You were alone now. Completely and utterly alone. They shouted orders at you. Orders your confused and delirious mind couldn't understand.

"Do it! Pull the trigger pussies!" You screamed. No one moved. "Do it!" Hot tears ran down your cheeks finally. Your throat sore and rough. You swayed in the middle of the road. You watched as Deku and Dyna-Might entered your vision as they jogged in between the vehicles to get a better view of you.

"Don't! Don't hurt her!" Your father's voice came again. He approached, his quirk still activated and standing strong. You spit the blood collecting in your mouth. You glared at him as he approached with your mother and Xavier in tow.

"Please Y/N, just come home!" He begged.

"Fuck you, Xavier!" You spat at him. "No one likes you! You're a nosey busy body with the personality of a sandbag!"

"You don't mean that!" He argued.

"Please baby, we've been worried sick about you! We can go home and everything will go back to normal."

"No!" You shrieked. "No, it can't go back to normal!" You declared in desperation. The feelings came flooding in suddenly. The years of emotional abuse coming back, the pain you'd always felt but never gave the time to came back in one heap of emotion.

"Oh sweety, what have they done to you?" Your mother began to cry.

"No! No!" You tried to disagree. To explain it wasn't them. But there was no room for communication. Everything was far too much to sort through and speak. Your father stepped forward. "No!" You activated your quirk, objects, cars, buildings rattling. The more upset, the more power you applied.

"You're just scared and confused. You're safe now." All Might announced approaching you. Soon your power grew and grew, the objects and cars flew from their spot. One slamming into your father and making him jolt forward. He continued towards you as a tornado of your own power began to collect in your distraught state. It circled around, quickening. Gaining speed and power. Until he reached you. Wrapping you up in his arms.

"No! No! No no no no no no no!" You cried, pounding your fists into his chest and shoulders as you kicked and screamed like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you IhateyouIhateyouIhateIhateyouyouIhateyou!"

"Please! Please stop this!" When you didn't comply and continued your fit, a sudden and sharp pain made you pause. You felt it in your neck and soon it spread to your entire body. The tornado slowly came to a stop. The air was soon still as your eyelids became heavy. Your body caving before you could. You fell limp I'm his arms. Your head hitting his shoulder as your lips uttered a few final words before you lost control.

"I...hate..you...all....."

"Good work Snipe. She's out." A cop spoke in his ear over the radio.

"This could have been over sooner," Snipe spoke as you packed up his gear.

"I know but we had to let the family try."

"What a shame. I heard she was a smart kid."

Back in the villain's truck, Toga cursed loudly. Making a few others groan in response. Shigaraki closed the broadcast on his phone and leaned against his seat. They watched the entire thing on live news.

"I thought I taught her better than that." Dabi snickered.

"Ah fuck off! She did her best!" Toga argued. "And against all of those heroes at once, I think she did pretty well for herself!"

"Yeah! You go, girl! - What a newb!"

"Am I the only one surprised by any of this? I mean, we held her hostage, and she helped us escape!" Spinner shouted from the back.

"I told you she was one of us!"

"Togas right." Shigaraki finally spoke. The rest fell silent. "She's one of us."

"You can't be serious." Spinner objected.

"What do we do now?" Compress enquired.

"We go back to The Liberation Front for now. Then we work from there."

Taglist:

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff @witch-o-memes @lolilith @anime-lover-forever-1127

#tomura shigaraki #mha #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki x reader #my hero academia #tomura headcanons #league of villains #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki smut

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 7

chapter index

It was unsurprising that Inuyasha had dozed off after Kagome and had awoken before her. It seemed she’d barely moved in the night aside from freeing her arms from the confinements of the quilts she rested beneath and turning to lay on her side facing the edge of the mattress. Her dark hair splayed behind her, but little, rogue strands clung to her sweat-soaked cheeks, forehead, and neck, her skin glimmering with the layer of dew that signified her breaking fever. A little color had returned to her face, an unfriendly flush painting her cheekbones, and Inuyasha could only figure how uncomfortable she would be if she were conscious.

Again, that twinge of sympathy twisted at his abdomen. He felt the pull to help, to make her just a bit more comfortable, and did the first thing that came to mind by heading to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf, and soaking it in some water. He rung it of extra moisture, folding it up and walking back over to the sleeping girl.

While she was unaware, this sort of act was fine. If she were awake, it’d be an entirely different story, but since she was asleep, Inuyasha allowed himself the leeway to sit beside her and gently pat the wet rag over her cheeks, adjusting those soddened strands of hair away from her body. He carefully pushed her bangs from her head, dabbing the sweat clean, and softly trailed over her temple, the sides of her face, her jaw, and over her neck.

It was too quick how he’d lost the ability to pay attention, how he’d carelessly gotten swept away in his task, and after moments of cooling her skin, pressing the rag against her so mildly, he noticed her brown eyes had already blinked open, gazing at him drowsily.

How long? How long ago had she woken up without him realizing? He instantly felt awkward and tense, his motions halting altogether as an uncontrollable heat rushed to his cheeks. He wanted to remove himself from the situation immediately, never one to let others see him visibly uncomfortable, so as a swift attempt at recovery, Inuyasha dropped the wet washcloth on Kagome’s face as he picked himself up and crossed the room to the window, ignoring her tiny and shocked yelp.

“What was that for?” She whined.

“You’re awake. You can do it yourself now.” He replied abrasively.

“What were you even doing?” Kagome asked, steadily pushing herself up to a sitting position, a hand braced behind her for stability.

“Nothing.”

“But -“

The hanyou hushed her, notching his chin toward the door. “Kaede’s coming.”

And, just seconds later, a knock greeted them. Inuyasha crossed the room to unlock the bolt, opening it up so his friend could enter.

“Ah, you’re awake.” She smiled brightly, shoving a folded up, black garment into Inuyasha’s waist and completely neglecting to acknowledge him as she welcomed herself in and crossed the floor to Kagome.

“Wow,” Inuyasha drawled, deadpanning. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi, Inuyasha.” Kaede absently waved. “Get dressed, I’m tired of seeing your tits.”

“Why? Because they’re bigger than yours?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She huffed, still not looking at him as she checked Kagome’s temperature. “I have to tighten my bodice to no ends just to get an ounce of cleavage. Yours just exists, and it’s not fair.”

“Stop sexualizing me, you creep.” Inuyasha joked, unfolding the shirt and throwing it over his head. “It’s not my fault I’m well-endowed.”

“How are you feeling? Nauseous?” Kaede asked Kagome, ignoring Inuyasha’s sarcasm.

The conjurer shook her head, grateful that the medicine Kaede had given her seemed to have worked.

“You’re still a bit warm, but your fever’s breaking so that’s a good sign. I’ll go get some rice for you to eat and then give you one more dose.”

“Won’t it put me to sleep?” Kagome asked.

“Yes, but you need the rest, sweetheart.”

“It’s not clear to leave yet, anyway, so you may as well sleep. You’ll have nothing better to do.” Inuyasha added, tucking the ends of his shirt into his pants before buttoning them up. He worked on rolling the sleeves up his forearms next, making things a little more comfortable.

Kagome begrudgingly agreed, despite her desperate desire to stretch and walk around and be normal again. Kaede was quick to return with a healthy serving of rice and a large glass of water, making light conversation as she watched to make sure Kagome ate. A part of her wanted to ask if she had any children. She was very motherly and kind, and while Kaede was maybe just a year or two older than she was with the spunky sense of humor to match, she found a small resemblance between she and her own mother.

After giving her the dreadful fever medicine, Kaede left with both the rice bowl and the soup bowl from the night before, leaving Inuyasha and Kagome alone in the room once more.

Kagome laid herself down, knowing good and well how quickly the dose she’d just consumed was going to kick in, and within moments, her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted back to sleep.

Inuyasha watched her for a small while, alternating his attention from the unconscious girl to the town outside their window. He didn’t know what had possessed him to stay with her. Usually, he was one to sit in Kaede’s tavern area, or visit the shops, or have Totosai sharpen Tessaiga. Totosai worked with Kaede, helped her manage the floor and kitchen, but first and foremost, he was a bladesmith, and Inuyasha was happy to take full advantage of that. Yet, here he was. It was like he personally wanted to watch her improve. It was like Inuyasha wanted to make sure nothing stood in the way of her rest, and if she woke up or needed anything in the meantime, he was within earshot. What could she possibly need or want if she was asleep, though? What could he possibly do to help her while she wasn’t even conscious?

What was it about her that progressively demanded his attention?

After a couple of hours, Inuyasha forced himself to leave the room. Whatever he was feeling, it was freaking him out worse than the fear he felt just the night before. So, he went downstairs and paid off the tab so he wouldn’t have to worry about it later, giving Kaede a bit extra for tending to Kagome, which she nearly rejected but he walked away before she could force him to take it back. He ate something, he went outside to scope the area, making sure no familiar and unwelcome scents lingered around the grounds, went back to the inn and checked on Kagome, left when he saw she was still asleep, walked around some more, handed Tessaiga over to Totosai, checked on Kagome again, and then left the town entirely to rest in a tree in the forest so he wouldn’t be tempted to give up and hang out in the room.

“Oh, hey. She’s awake now and looks ten times better. You’re welcome. I know, I know, I’m the best.” Kaede grinned smugly, crinkling her nose adorably once Inuyasha walked back in. The sun was now setting, and he’d literally forced himself to stay out for hours to shake whatever was pulling him in like a magnet.

“You’ve checked on her?” He questioned, arching a brow.

“Of course, I did. Several times.” She shrugged. “Poor girl wanted nothing more than to bathe, so I set her up with a fresh gown and helped her out. She’s much more lively now, the cutie. How’d you even meet her? Is she a longtime friend of yours or something?”

Inuyasha deliberated his answer for a moment before taking a large step back and out of Kaede’s reach, grateful the counter she stood behind acted as a barrier to slow her down.

She read his expression immediately, and her brows pinched together in disapproval. “Inuyasha, what did you do?”

“First of all, I want to start off with the fact that I saved her life.” He began, defensively. “Just remember that, okay?”

“What did you do?” She repeated with condemnation.

“Nothing wrong, per se!”

“Don’t make me ask her myself.”

“No, don’t! She’ll just exaggerate!”

“Inuyasha!”

“I thought there was a bounty on her head, okay? Are you happy?” The hanyou barked.

“You did not!” Kaede had been friends with Inuyasha long enough to know how roughly he treated others, especially those he could get paid for. She’d even witnessed it a couple of times while Inuyasha brought them to the bar, eating and drinking in front of them, taunting them, making them wait out their sentencing for a bit longer. Personally, she thought it was sort of amusing since the majority of his victims had it coming. Not in this case, though.

“Well, you saw how messed up she looked! It was worse a couple days ago, so could you even blame me!?”

“Yes!”

“And, she had a horrible attitude for someone who’d just had their ass saved.” He growled, remembering her sassy remarks that got her into trouble with him. “The girl’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” Kaede threatened, preparing to hop over the counter, not even bothering to head to the side and exit the counter door.

“I let her go!” Inuyasha argued, holding up his hands before him to protect himself.

“Let her…” Kaede stopped with one foot pressed on the countertop, uncaring that her skirt was hiked with gravity and that she was exposed. She let his words process for a moment, steadily bringing her foot back to the ground. He let her go. He legitimately had her in captivity. No longer was she interested in getting the full story from this scummy ass half demon. She wanted to know exactly what he did, and she was going to get it from the honest source.

Calmly, she turned and opened the counter door, shutting it behind her with pursed lips, and she watched the realization dawn on Inuyasha’s face. Before he could stop her, though, she booked it, running down the hall and up the stairs, shoving the hanyou’s hands off of her whenever he tried to grab and stop her.

She threw the door open, spotting Kagome across the bedroom with large eyes and a startled frown. She was tense where she stood, her black hair tied back in a messy bun, a rosiness flooding in her cheeks as she relaxed at seeing it was only them.

“Kagome - don’t touch me, Inuyasha - Kagome, did this mother fucker -“

“Don’t tell her anything! She’s gonna kill me!”

“Shut up! Did this mother fucker abduct you? Did he threaten to -“

“Kagome, no!”

“- Sell you?”

There was a thick moment of silence. Kagome stared at the two in the entry, stunned, perplexed, wondering what she was now caught in the middle of. She watched Inuyasha’s heated expression crumble as he started laughing, hiding his amusement behind his hand as he folded over and braced himself on his thighs. Kaede, though, held onto her wrathful look, her brown eyes squinted with how deep set her brows sat.

“Yes.” She finally answered, nodding. “Yes, he did.”

“I saved her life first! I saved her life!” Inuyasha jumped up, backing away from Kaede as she raised her fist and threatened to hit him.

“Is that true, Kagome?” She asked.

“Mhm. Sort of.”

“But, then he thought there was a bounty on your head? Why?”

“He assumed I was on the run from someone because of my bruises. Didn’t believe me when I said I’d gotten myself into a different type of trouble, then chased me down, tied me up, and dragged me around for miles.”

“Dragged!? Don’t say dragged!” Inuyasha shouted, suddenly more concerned for his well-being than he was before. He flinched, holding his hands up when Kaede pulled her fist back again in a threatening motion. “She walked! I made her walk for a few miles!”

“No, no, that’s true!” Kagome quickly said, correcting her choice of vocabulary. “I wasn’t literally dragged, I promise!”

“What else?” Kaede demanded.

“Kaede, stop!” Inuyasha laughed. “She’s fine, just look at her.”

“I’m not talking to you, shit-for-brains!”

“He tied me to a couple trees, and called me a crybaby when we accidentally bonked heads.” Kagome added.

“‘Bonked’? Who the fuck says ‘bonked’?” Inuyasha ridiculed.

“Would you like me to use a worse term?” She shot back.

“No, no, ‘bonked’ is fine.” He chuckled, wincing when Kaede lurched at him again. God, he should have known that Kaede would take another female’s side over his own any day.

“And, then what?”

“That’s about it. He untied me after a while. Oh, but he did try to attack me with his sword, and I thought that was overkill.”

Inuyasha froze, his face paling as he watched Kaede’s attention slowly drift back to him, a furious fire igniting behind her eyes. She went to actually throw her fist at him, but he dodged, swerving around her, jumping on top of the bed to bounce to the opposite side, and ducking to hide behind Kagome where he knew he’d be safest. There was no fucking way Kaede would compromise Kagome’s security.

“It’s a misunderstanding!”

“How the fuck is that a misunderstanding!?”

Kagome stood there unfazed, wobbling forward and back as Inuyasha protected himself behind her, his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place as Kaede approached with heavy stomps.

“The first time, I was just trying -“

“First time!?”

“Let me explain! I was just trying to scare the attitude out of her!”

“Kind of worked.” Kagome muttered, knowing she was probably unheard over Inuyasha’s nervous yelling. Ironically, she felt completely disregarded despite literally behind held in the middle of their fight.

“Tessaiga didn’t transform, though! So, the second time I pulled it, I was just trying to see why!”

“It has a name?” Kagome grimaced, again going ignored.

“You should have never pulled it in the first place, you big-tittied man!”

“At no point did I actually plan on harming her with it!”

“I don’t care! Was Kagome even brandishing a weapon at you!?”

“She was acting high and mighty! I needed to put her in her place!”

Kagome grimaced again at his poor choice of words. He had quite the nerve to use her as a shield while being rude.

“Inuyasha, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry! Look, she’s fine! She’s totally fine! I didn’t hurt her, I promise! Tell her I didn’t hurt you, kid!”

Oh, now she’s being acknowledged. Kagome rolled her eyes, sighing out before dully saying, “He didn’t hurt me. He let me go that night, gave me some food, let me sleep, and even covered me with something so I’d be warm.”

For the second time that day, an irrational heat rushed to Inuyasha’s face. At no point had he considered she’d wake up and notice he’d done that, and instantly he was embarrassed. “No, I didn’t.” He retorted out of pure reaction when Kaede perked with a curious expression.

“Yeah, you did.” Kagome countered, peeking over her shoulder at him. “I saw it.”

“You must have been dreaming.” Inuyasha said, letting her go.

“It’s the whole reason I knew you were being attacked. I had your scent all over me, which attracted a couple of those demons my way.”

Kaede sniggered, pinching her lips together while she observed Inuyasha’s humiliation. Public affection in any way, shape, or form had never been his thing. It was why she was so shocked he’d walked in with a woman hanging on his arm in the first place, which she easily dismissed when she realized Kagome was severely ill. But, to know he’d taken it upon himself to make sure the girl kept warm in the middle of the night was something entirely new.

“Kagome, do you remember what it was?” She reached, never really pinging Inuyasha the type to carry a blanket around.

“Kind of. It was red. A jacket, maybe? Is it the thing you put in my bag?”

Kaede slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter behind her tightly-pressed palm when Inuyasha’s face burned even brighter. There was literally no disputing Kagome in the first place since she had traceable evidence, but Kaede knew exactly which garment Kagome was referring to. Inuyasha had been wearing the damned thing when they first met years ago. His father’s robe of the fire rat. Nowadays, he merely used it when the weather got a bit nippy since it was surprisingly cozy, but she knew it was a cherished item of his. The half demon’s face burned brighter, his lips pursing as he glanced over at Kaede when he fully came out from behind Kagome.

“If you’re going to hit me, just do it. Otherwise, go away.”

“I don’t really want to after that.”

“Go away then.”

“I feel like all is right in the world now.” Kaede teased, acting as if a weight had lifted from her chest by breathing deeply.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I sure am.” She grinned, shutting the door behind her on her way out.

“So,”

“No. Don’t start.” Inuyasha cut Kagome off, not even looking at her. “I’ll kick you out, too.”

Kagome swallowed her laughter, doing Inuyasha the favor of pretending she hadn’t seen his maddening blush. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Drop it.” He said, making himself comfortable on the side of the bed. It was nicely made and he laid back against the pillows, slightly propped up while his gaze rested on the ceiling.

At least he had part of the answer he was looking for the night before. About how Kagome had found him, or even knew he was under attack. He’d considered that maybe she’d turned around and headed in his direction instead of the one she’d left in, making it nothing more than a coincidence. Or, maybe she was being shady and followed him while he was too distracted by the other fuckers he was being stalked by. Apparently, someone had literally told her about it.

And, she came running.

Kagome pushed the curtains to stay open, sitting on the cushioned chair in the corner so that she could watch the sun set on the town outside. It was beautiful, the world painted in warm oranges that she appreciated to no ends. She didn’t care how common or cliche it was considered to adore sunsets. They brought her joy, and in this chaotic time they lived in, everyone should relish in those little, beautiful details the universe had to offer.

“My scent,” Inuyasha spoke from across the room, catching Kagome’s attention. He wasn’t looking at her, his silver lashes fluttering with each blink as he stared upward, his forearm resting just above his head on the pillow. “Did someone think you were me?”

“No, that’s not it.” She refuted with a soft sway of her head, eyes wandering back outside. She pulled her knees into her chest, adjusting the nightgown Kaede lent her to drape over her legs. “There were two of them, and they thought we were a bit closer than what we are and wanted to try and use me against you. They told me all about their attack, so I headed over to make sure you were alright. I’m really glad that I did.”

Inuyasha had to remind himself to neglect her last comment or else it would just be another thing that flustered him. Twice in one day was two times too many, so the last thing he was going to do was walk into another. Because, the first thought that came to mind was to ask, even now? Even after she’d been so cripplingly sick, even after she was debilitated and weak, even after she feared for her life and cried in secrecy? Even now, you’re still glad? And, he was positive she’d say yes. Even now. So, he avoided it altogether.

“Look, I just want you to know that I only put the damn robe on you in the first place because you were shivering like a fucking baby.”

“Okay,” Kagome said lightly, sucking on her bottom lip so she wouldn’t smile. Due to his deflecting demeanor, she was ninety-nine percent certain she was not and he was just trying to cover for himself. She didn’t fully understand why. She thought it was sweet of him. God forbid he do something genuinely compassionate without taking it back. Nevertheless, he seemed uncomfortable expressing such acts, and it wasn’t something she was going to force him to own up to. “I appreciate it either way.”

“Whatever.” He grumbled. “What did you mean, they wanted to use you against me?”

“Well, they said they’d win no matter what, but your sword was a nuisance, so they’d use me as a hostage so you’d give up. I kindly told them that wouldn’t work.”

He chuckled, pinching his brows as he imagined the ridiculous thought. “So, what happened after that?”

“I - uh - took care of them.” Kagome sheepishly admitted.

“You mean, you killed them?”

“Yeah.” She tried not to laugh. It felt apathetic to laugh, but it wasn’t their death she found humorous. It was more the way she was awkwardly dancing around the subject.

“So, that’s two. Who was the third?”

“Third?”

“You said you killed three men before saving my ass. Who was the third?” Inuyasha repeated, now looking at her. While the sun that set behind the hills wasn’t facing her, the rays of warm colors still hit her skin. It was too enrapturing to look away from, no matter how many times he inwardly told himself to do so. The oranges and pinks, the purples and yellows, the glowing highlights and soothing shadows adorned her better than he imagined anything ever could. The color in her cheeks had returned, and now were basked in hues no one would ever get the privilege of seeing on her at all hours of the day. Maybe that’s what made it better.

The eye closest to the lighting, her right eye, shimmered with high definition reds and golds, and the brown resembled the natural beauty of the forest floor. He’d visited the ocean, he’d seen bodies of water, he’d ambled through grass and fields of flowers, he’d seen the world, the pretty and the ugly, he’d walked through fire, traveled hills, climbed mountains, and ran through gardens of the most striking wonders, but nothing could ever take away his love for the woodlands. Nothing ever compared to the minerals that sparkled in the dirt, or the bark that patterned over aged trees. Nothing came close to the scent of burning wood in the middle of the night as he camped out, waiting for sunrise, and nothing could ever relate to the absolute and wonderful calm he experienced when his boots crunched against the fallen leaves, or when he waited out the moon, but especially when he watched the sun make its ascent through the sky. Her eyes took him there. He was laying on a bed in the middle of a room with no clear visual of anything outside, and Kagome’s eyes took him to that calm he desired whenever things got just a little too overwhelming.

With a sharp pinch of his claw against the palm of the same hand, Inuyasha was able to divert his attention back to the ceiling. The sun would completely be gone in a matter of moments, and she’d be safe to look at again without his mind running circles around him.

“Oh, he was watching from the sidelines. I couldn’t sneak past him, so I had to kill him.” Kagome answered.

“Savage.” He remarked.

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”

It grew quiet for a while. Kagome watched the few people that were out make their way back home. She watched the mountain in the distance, the one the sun hid behind, shadow the grounds and darken their world. She tried to spot the moon in the sky but had no vantage point for that, but the way it glowed against the earth was still soothing and radiant.

She could tell Inuyasha wasn’t asleep from the way his breathing had never deepened or become rhythmic. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to simply be resting peacefully. While the silence wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, she still didn’t much want to sit in it right now. She’d been asleep for so long, woken up in silence, and truthfully, wanted to drown out any negative thoughts in her head that might potentially creep up. At the moment, she was fine, but she wanted to keep it that way.

“What’s your favorite color?” Kagome asked, making sure to keep her voice smooth so it wasn’t loud or startling.

Inuyasha’s eyes blinked open, brows furrowing perplexedly at her random question. Glancing her way, he noticed her patient grin, but he couldn’t pinpoint why she wanted to know something as inconsequential as that. “What?”

“What’s your favorite color?” She repeated in the same tone.

“Don’t have one.” He said, his frown remaining.

“Everyone has a favorite color.”

“Fine. Black.” He watched her head tilt to the side, her lips parting, but he beat her to the punch with her next statement by mockingly saying, “Black’s a shade, not a color.”

He listened for her giggle to die, rolling his eyes when he finally said, “I don’t know. Maybe blue. But, like, dark blue. Or, dark purple.”

“Oh, those are pretty.” Kagome remarked, setting her chin on the top of her knee. “Mine’s baby pink and lavender. I love Spring-time colors.”

Inuyasha didn’t say anything in response, but he was unfazed when she asked another question a small moment later.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“What is this, the question game?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Kagome countered. “I mean, I figured if all is well tomorrow, we’ll be going our separate ways, right? Why not get to know each other in the meantime? We’re both awake, we’re in the same room, nothing traumatic is happening for once, so why not actually hang out and talk?”

“Sounds stupid.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine. If it’ll shut you up.” He said dully. “Ramen. I like ramen.”

“Ramen’s good. I’ve only had it a couple of times. Mine’s chocolate. Cake. Chocolate cake.” It was actually horrible how much she loved chocolate cake. If it was the only thing she ate for the rest of her life, she’d find the life she lived to be quite fulfilling. “What’s your favorite animal? I know it’s not dogs.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes again. “I really don’t have one of those, but because I know you’re gonna make me choose something, I’d have to say cats.”

“How ironic.”

Inuyasha grabbed the pillow next to him and chucked it at the girl in the corner, her laughter filling his ears as she protected herself in the nick of time. “Shut up and tell me yours.”

“Pandas.”

“Pandas? Fucking bears?”

“Yes, but they’re so cute and funny! More particularly, red pandas!”

“What the fuck is a red panda?”

“They’re smaller, and cuter, and well, red. And, they do this thing with their arms when they get scared where -“ She found herself mimicking the motions a red panda would make, noticing the odd way Inuyasha arched his brow at her, and her cheeks flushed embarrassingly. Even more so when he chuckled, but she laughed at herself, putting her arms down. “Never mind, forget that. What’s your favorite season?”

“Summer.”

“Autumn.”

“I thought you’d say Spring.” Inuyasha said, remembering her recent mention of Spring-time colors.

“I mean, Spring is pretty, but Autumn is prettier. When all the leaves change colors and begin to fall, and there’s that relieving nip in the air Summer was never kind enough to provide.”

“Alright, how many siblings do you have? I remember you bringing up your brother once.” He asked, participating in her little game, and Kagome grew visibly happier.

“Just one. My younger brother, Sota. But, my cousin, Miroku, and I are super close, so he’s practically my older brother. We were raised together, and after his dad died, my mom didn’t hesitate to take him in. What about you? Got any siblings?”

“Eh.” Inuyasha gave a small, distasteful grimace. “I mean, technically I’ve got a half brother, but he’s a bitch so not really.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You two don’t get along?”

“You could say that, but that would be putting it nicely. The douche has hated me since birth and doesn’t consider me family, so he can suck a dick and choke on it. He’s got a massive superiority complex and no actual personality to contribute, so I don’t even fucking care.”

“Well, good riddance.” Kagome huffed in agreement.

“Your turn.”

“Okay, how old are you?”

“Twenty. You’re eighteen, right?”

“Yeah. Nineteen, pretty soon. Speaking of ages, how old is Kaede?”

“Twenty-five or twenty-six, I think.”

“Oh, no way. I thought she was closer to our age.”

“Nah, she’s got a few years on us. She’ll be sprouting wrinkles in no time.”

“Twenty-six isn’t old.” Kagome giggled. “And, even if she does get a few, I’m willing to bet you’re the one that causes them.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly take credit for that.” He laughed.

“You’re so mean. How long have you two known each other?”

“Give or take five years or so.” Inuyasha answered.

“You guys are really close, it seems. Are you…”

“Ew, no.” He cringed, feigning a gag and making Kagome laugh. “I knew that was the next question you were gonna ask. We’re not each other’s type. Frankly, I’m convinced she likes women, but she has neither confirmed nor denied, and it’s none of my damn business.”

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” Kagome conceded, bracing her hands before her to relent. “Sorry I asked.”

“You should be. What about you? You got anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Given the context, I’m assuming you mean a significant other?” Kagome asked.

He grunted to confirm.

“No,” She shook her head, smiling. “No one like that. Just family waiting for me.”

“Which is your mom, cousin, and brother, right?”

“Right.”

“And, your dad passed?”

“Right.”

“How?”

“There was a huge, wild demon attack on my village when I was around twelve. We have a handful of demon slayers now, but several years ago we had less, so in order to defend our village, all capable parties had to fight back. We lost a good number of people that night, both my dad and my uncle included.” Kagome explained. She’d come to terms with the incident, and while she missed her papa so incredibly much, it wasn’t very difficult to talk about anymore.

“Wait, you and your cousin lost your fathers in the same night?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” She could practically hear the apology in his tone. “What about his mom?”

“Died in child birth. He never knew her.” She said. “He’s always had my mom as a maternal figure, and believe you me, she’s got plenty of motherly affection to spare. She’d take in a gnome and give it a home if she could.” Kagome joked.

“That’s an exaggeration, right?”

“Not in the least.” She stated frankly, shaking her head.

“A garden gnome? A clay figurine?”

“I said what I said, Inuyasha. If she could, she would.”

“So, she’s more the sweet and doting parent, huh?”

“No, my dad was.” Kagome laughed. “He hated disciplining us. I swear, sometimes it hurt his feelings to tell us we were in the wrong more than it hurt even us. My mom is sweet, yes, but that also made her more terrifying when she had to get stern.”

“Were you the problem child?” Inuyasha grinned crookedly.

“Nope, that trophy goes to Miroku. He’s a turd. Don’t get me wrong, I got into plenty of trouble, but rarely was I alone in my troublemaking.”

“There’s always a ring leader.” He chuckled.

“What about your parents?”

“Both dead.” Inuyasha said with a meager, one-shouldered shrug. “Old man died before I was even ten, and mom died when I was about fourteen.”

Kagome could tell by the way his amber eyes drifted an inch to the side for a moment, by the way his expression faltered minutely, by the way he didn’t delve further into the subject that it wasn’t a topic he liked to visit. She respected that, and she never wanted to see that pain etched across his face. Just because it was easy to talk about her own father’s death, didn’t mean it was the same for another. And, he’d lost them both. At so young an age, he was completely alone. She hoped she was wrong. She hoped she was being presumptuous. She hoped he had someone to lean on in his time of need.

“Day or night?” Kagome asked, changing their course.

“Day.” Inuyasha answered, once more looking at her.

“Same.”

“Alright, I’ve got one for you.” He said, sitting up a little more with a cunning expression. “Who are you looking for?”

Slowly, Kagome’s face shifted from content, to curious, to surprised, and he could barely bite back his amusement. Her brown eyes were wide but she had yet to say anything or swerve him away from the topic like she had the other night, instead mouth hanging agape, telling him his suspicions were correct.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t tell me before because you’re a conjurer and it’s conjurer-related, right?”

“Inuyasha -“

“Well, if that’s the case, I know you’re a conjurer now. Cat’s out of the bag, kid, so you may as well tell me who you’re after.”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” Kagome nearly laughed. If persistent were a person, she would be looking right at him.

“Your refusal to tell me has made me extraordinarily interested. You did this to yourself.” Inuyasha shrugged carelessly. The way he stared aided in the pressure he added to receive an answer; expectant and pleased.

“You’re so nosy.”

“What’s it gonna hurt?”

“Me, honestly. You’ll most likely think I’m insane, say something rude, then hurt my feelings.” She stated lightly, slightly joking but also serious. In all consideration, this was Inuyasha.

“For you to be insecure about it before even mentioning the details tells me that you, too, think it’s pretty insane. So, since we’re on the same page, just tell me.”

“Yes, but I’m allowed to think that. It’s my business.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll keep my opinions to myself for now.” He compromised.

“For now?”

“Well, I can’t promise forever. Let’s be real, it’s not right to make promises I can’t keep. So, for now is the best I can give you, and I think it’s very generous.”

“Inuyasha, you’re seriously going to think I’m insane.” Kagome grumbled, slightly exasperated as she ducked her head against her knees, pulling her legs in just a smidge closer.

“In all honesty, I kind of already do, so might as well keep the trend going.”

“Yeah, that’ll convince me to tell you.” She murmured sardonically, and he chuckled, still hearing her clearly.

“Come on, Kagome. Who are you after?”

“Kikyo.” Kagome admitted, her tone soft.

“Who?”

She sighed deeply, sitting up and looking at him to speak a little clearer. “I was looking for a woman named Kikyo. Look, it’s complicated and a bit messy, so take that to heart as I elaborate, okay?”

“Alright.” He agreed, giving his undivided attention.

“The other day when I told you I was looking for someone, I was looking for Kikyo. She’s a conjurer. A really strong conjurer.”

“But, that’s changed?”

“What?”

“Well, you keep saying ‘was.’ Have your plans changed?”

“Yes, but only because she told me to stop looking for her and figure things out on my own.” Kagome huffed, frustration budding as she thought back to their conversation in the burning woods.

“When?” His brows furrowed speculatively. “You’ve been with me. Did you bump into her in the few hours we were apart?”

She grimaced prematurely, realizing just how crazy things were about to sound to someone who hadn’t been in her circle since the day things started. “Not quite. See, this is where things get a little weird. Kikyo likes to communicate with me in my… dreams? Subconscience?” Her tone had curved upward to speak of her uncertainty of how to phrase things.

At first, Inuyasha’s right brow arched, and she could see the information she’d just given him seeping in. Then, he blinked a few times, an inquisitive expression taking over before he pinched his lips into a tight line that she could only guess was to prevent him from saying anything judgmental.

“Hm.” He remarked intriguingly.

“Oh my god.” Kagome groaned, rolled her eyes and dropping her head back before pinning him with a warning glare.

“Please, go on.” He insisted, going right back to pressing his lips together, fighting the crinkle at the corners.

Despite how badly she wanted to chuck something at him, he technically wasn’t saying anything rude, so she begrudgingly obliged. “It started about a year ago where she would appear while I was sleeping and tell me, ‘the responsibility is ours.’ Nothing more, nothing less. Just that. At first, her visits were few and far between, but then they came more frequently after about half a year or so, and that’s when she finally took the opportunity to introduce herself. ‘The responsibility is ours.’ ‘Only we can end Naraku.’ ‘Prepare yourself.’ ‘The responsibility is ours.’ ‘The responsibility is ours.’” Kagome quoted, sneering in disbelief as she chuckled at herself. “You know, she’s really awful at explaining things. When you think about it, it’s actually kind of refreshing to see some human quirks in her, because the image I had of her was this perfect, flawless, powerful, unstoppable conjurer who was leading the war against evil. Turns out, she’s got faults too, and one of those happens to be details. Or, the lack thereof.”

“What makes you say that?” Inuyasha’s tone had surprisingly taken on a more serious note, rumbling huskily as he spoke, but he gazed at her patiently while she explained.

“Her repetition, her generalized statements, I thought they were going to all of us. Conjurers, I mean. She said ‘ours’ so many freaking times, and she never once addressed me by name to suggest her message was individualized.”

“But, it was?”

“Apparently.” Kagome scorned. “It wasn’t until the night I left home that she came and actually spoke to me. Every other message was very impersonal, but this time, she said my name. She told me it was time to go, reaffirming my decision to head out. See, I always thought that I’d get a heads up from her that the time was nearing, but after watching the little conjurer get killed, I made the decision on my own. I was so tired. I’m sure you understand what it’s like to be on a hit list and having to hide who you are. Or, hide in general. It’s hard watching how difficult this can be on others, how life has changed over the course of five years, the destruction, the mayhem, the anger, and pain, and hopelessness, and fear. The little girl was the last straw. I should have never allowed it to go that far.”

“Stop. You’re going down a dangerous route. Pull back.” Inuyasha reminded firmly. He could see the emotions written on her face, in the way her eyes had drifted to the floor. It’s easy to believe mistakes are your own fault, especially detrimental ones. When you’re involved, it’s exceedingly more difficult to remember the blame belongs solely to the perpetrators.

“It’s true, though.” She whispered.

“So, it fueled you to take a step forward?”

“Yeah.” Still, her voice was barely evident, but as she glanced up at the hanyou, she noticed his stare, his vivid and glowing eyes were trying to guide her away from the harmful aspects of the subject. And, she took his hand, following his lead as she swallowed thickly to figuratively push negative thoughts away and continue on with her story, her voice returning to normal. “Yes. Even though the plan wouldn’t be carried out as it had originally been constructed, I felt like I had to do something immediately. I dozed off waiting for the right time to slip out, meaning everyone would be asleep, and there she was. Kikyo was right outside my house in my dream, telling me to get up and go. She even said my name, which, until that point, I didn’t know she knew. Next time I saw her was two nights ago while I was with you. She yelled at me.”

Inuyasha chuckled lightly at the casual way Kagome slipped that in. “For what?”

“Getting myself into trouble with you.” She laughed, bowing her head in shame. “She didn’t like that too much.”

“How’d she even know?”

“She’s got a pet snake. Let’s just leave it at that. That’s a whole other story for a different day.” Kagome dismissed with a wave of her hand, grimacing. “That was when she told me to stop looking for her, though. She let me know it was just she and I against Naraku.” Kagome paused, letting her own words sink in with herself. Suddenly, a wave of turbulence jostled her mind, releasing a belated reaction to the reality of her situation. “It’s absurd. Oh my god, it’s - it’s absurd. All this time, I thought she was building an army, and it’s just she and I! And, we can’t be near each other, otherwise Naraku will find out and we’ll be, as she claimed, ‘sitting ducks.’ What’s even crazier is she said she’s the distraction and I’m the weapon. What does that even mean!? A weapon!? I get my ass beat three days in a row, but yeah, sure, I’m the secret weapon that’s going to take down this supreme madman. Logic - out the window! Stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re going a little nuts over there; you can hardly blame me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“I feel like you’ve been sitting on this information for a couple days and it’s just now hitting you.” Inuyasha stated warily.

“That’s because it is!” Kagome declared, flustered.

“You told me I would think you’re insane. I was prepared for insane, so why weren’t you?”

“Because, I was focused on the fact that it’s weird to have someone casually strolling in and out of your subconscience. I hadn’t thought about how crazy it would sound that I’m a weapon in a party of two destined to fight Naraku. And, what about this responsibility thing? How is this my responsibility? Is it because I’m a conjurer? I mean, I’m here. I’m going to fight. I volunteered either way. I just want to know when and how this became obligatory! Make it make sense, Kikyo!”

“You’re…” Inuyasha paused, gathering Kagome’s reaction in, her irate demeanor, her body language and the way she expressed herself with flinging arms. “Whining.”

“I’m upset!”

“Alright, alright! Never thought I’d say this, but I miss your broken voice. You get all high-pitched when you’re freaking out. It’s like listening to a whistle.”

“I can get louder!” She threatened.

“Please do not.” He flinched at the thought, ears pressing back against his head. “Look, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re insane for any of the listed reasons you gave.”

Though she still appeared aggravated and conflicted, Kagome steadily began to settle. She appreciated the way Inuyasha wasn’t judging her for the things that now had her feeling like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. She appreciated the way his gaze held stable on her, and how it inadvertently seemed to stabilize her own emotions. “You don’t?”

“Not really. I think you’re a little insane for not processing everything sooner and then having a moment right now, but honestly that’s not all that surprising to me anymore.”

Kagome took the pillow he’d thrown at her earlier and tossed it right back at him with as much fervor as she could muster. The half demon grabbed the pillow in time, easily defending himself and laughing.

“Tell me when I would have had the time, Inuyasha.”

“Uh, in the time we were apart.” He suggested mockingly.

“I had thought about it, yes, but it was more about my next move. I’d always thought my goal would be to find Kikyo. Find Kikyo, and the rest of the path is laid out before you. Then, just like that, everything had changed, and I had to determine where I was going next. I mean, I thought I had processed everything then and I was just taking it super well.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t seem to be the extremely rational or logical type who understands the situation immediately. You’re more emotion-driven, so of course it’s not going to sink in until you really get the opportunity to feel the issue out.”

He was right. Kagome hated that he was right, but he was right. Even more so, she hated that he’d figured her out in just two day’s time and she couldn’t bounce a you don’t know me off of him. Her cheeks flushed furiously, heat flooding over, and she couldn’t determine if it was because she was frustrated or flabbergasted.

“Yeah? Well, you’re immature and just as emotional as I am. You react irrationally, and you probably act before you think.” Kagome countered.

“All true, but this isn’t about me.” He smirked.

It was the way her comment just rolled right off of him, the way he agreed, the way he grinned, the way he teased her that interestingly had her attitude crumbling away, bringing her to laugh no matter how badly she’d attempted to fight it off. Kagome had told herself nothing was funny, pressed her mouth shut, and tried to force herself to stay mad, but it didn’t matter. It all melted away, and she laughed. Truth was, it was funny. It was so chaotic, it was humorous. Kagome had just absolutely freaked out while telling her own story, and the half demon opposite her could only stare at her awkwardly and essentially tell her to chill the fuck out. She was the one that was supposed to be telling him that. He was supposed to be calling her crazy for thinking some ethereal woman was visiting her to give her some “chosen one” arc, and he merely thought she was crazy because she was just now realizing what this all meant. When and how did things get so turned around?

Honestly, Kagome felt she should stop asking questions like that. At this point in time, there was no making sense of things. There was simply going with the flow and taking it all with a grain of salt, because she had a huge feeling things wouldn’t be lining up for a while.

“So, this Kikyo. Is this the Kikyo?” Inuyasha asked, and Kagome’s expression sort of lit up.

“You’ve heard of her, too?”

“Vaguely. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s widely hated in the demon community. The demon’s for Naraku, that is. Makes sense that she’s a conjurer, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s sort of what got me into massive trouble with Naraku’s henchmen.” Kagome watched Inuyasha’s brows furrow in question, so she took the opportunity to give him more context. “The little girl, she was so scared. I just wanted to give her some hope, so I told her Kikyo was going to kill Naraku and the conjurers would win. Turns out, I’d said it a little too loud. There was so much commotion, and I didn’t realize I was within earshot of one of the demons, and that’s when he manhandled me.” She said, exhibiting her fading neck bruise with a glide of her hand. “This was when I thought she was communicating with all conjurers, though. Neither the girl nor her mother knew what I was talking about, so I had to lie my way out of it.”

“You had good intentions. I’d say it was worth it.”

“Yeah. I don’t regret it.” Kagome gave a small smile.

“You said Kikyo was strong?”

“I mean, she has to be. Don’t you think? With the way she can talk to me, with how she’s been surviving all this time, and she’s even got a reputation with Naraku. To me, that says she’s extremely powerful.”

“But yet, she’s the distraction and you’re the weapon.” Inuyasha stated more than asked.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

“Did you bother asking for clarification?”

“I did. She said I’m supposed to be stronger than her. According to her, I just need to stop holding back and apply myself.”

“Bullshit.” He shot, feeling defensive over Kagome. “That’ll get you killed. You didn’t hold back yesterday, and look what happened to you. There’s so much fucking more that goes into learning how to control your power; it isn’t just about not holding back.”

“Well, I think she meant it more along the lines of holding myself back. Maybe that’s what she said - I don’t know, it’s hard to remember our conversation clearly. When I was training with Miroku and Sango, I would have to really control how much power I released to make sure nothing stood out among the villagers. Like, we couldn’t be completely demon-attack-free, because that would be conspicuous. Because of that, I never really got a good feel of what I could do besides fend off one or two demons at a time.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s in the same realm, Kagome. Apply yourself, sure. But, you and I have both seen what not holding yourself back can and will do to you. No, you didn’t know what would happen, but now that you do and you’re aware of what you’re capable of, you need to make sure your body can handle that. I don’t know what sort of training course she endured to get herself where she is, and I sure as hell don’t fucking know her strength firsthand, but I know yours. She wants you to catch up to her, and I get that the pressure is on, but the expectations aren’t fucking fair. Did she even tell you how to handle your power?”

“No. I asked her to train me and she said she couldn’t because of the whole sitting duck thing.”

“So, it’s up to you to figure it out on your own?”

“Basically. And, it’d be damn near impossible to find another conjurer to help.”

“Right. Her standards are fucking unrealistic as shit.”

“Inuyasha, why are you so upset?” Kagome asked, slightly taken aback. His jaw had flexed and he seemed irrationally peeved for her situation.

“I’m not.” He declared unconvincingly.

“You’re mad.”

“She’s going to get you killed, Kagome. And, for what? You don’t even fucking know why you’re involved.”

“Because, I’m a conjurer.”

“And?”

“I know, Inuyasha. This is confusing for me, too. Now, you can understand why I wasn’t handing things too well a moment ago.” She said, her temperament spiking once more. She wasn’t nearly at the level she sat at before, nor was she matching Inuyasha’s attitude, but she still huffed in agreement. It was trivial and terrifying, and if she just knew more about the situation, maybe she’d feel a little better about things, but she had so little to go off of while monumental events stood before her. The expectations were drastic while her experience was limited, and again, nothing was matching up.

“Why were you so concerned about me thinking you were insane when Kikyo’s right fucking there? She should at least be required to give you a reason as to why she’s filling out your will for you.”

“I told you she’s not great with detail. She even admitted she’s been told she could be more direct.”

“This isn’t the fucking time to play guessing games. If there’s a question she knows the answer to, she should just fucking answer it.”

“But, we’re two different people and maybe spiritual powers aren’t the same for each individual. Playing devil’s advocate, maybe there isn’t one specific path we can all follow in learning how to control our powers because it’s different for everyone.”

“Did she tell you that, herself?”

“Well, no -“

“Exactly.”

“Inuyasha, what I’m saying is, she can’t know everything. Like I said before, it was refreshing to see some human characteristics from her, because she came off so flawless and omniscient. Maybe, she couldn't give me more than what she had because she doesn’t know what I need to do in order to catch up.”

“Have you seen her powers at work?”

“No, I haven’t. But, take her reputation into consideration.”

“Oh, I am. Believe me, I am. You don’t make an enemy like that without some sort of immeasurability.”

“Right. I really don’t know where I come into the picture, but I have to trust Kikyo in this. She’s an enemy of the enemy, we share the same fate, so if we’re the only ones who can face Naraku, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s the thing, though. You’re wrong. You’re both wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t the only ones who can fight him. Not even close. Naraku’s strong, yes, but he’s no god. No matter how delusional he is in thinking so, he’s not immortal. Naraku’s nothing but a self-created half demon.” Inuyasha stated, watching Kagome’s expression widen. “There are plenty of others who plan on fighting against him. It’s all about finding the motherfucker first. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s hiding.”

It took a moment for Kagome to really process what he’d just said. Naraku wasn’t a full-blooded demon? He was a half demon? There were others, just like she’d initially suspected. In the span of thirty seconds, Kagome had received enough information to stun her.

“First - first of all, how did you know that?” She asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Infiltration. I passed him once. Won’t work again. It was towards the very beginning of his rise, and skipping over the minor details, I got a glimpse of him at his most vulnerable.”

“Wait, no, don’t skip over any details! Please!”

“Kagome, it doesn’t fucking matter. I’m telling you what does. He was causing hell, I snuck in, I found out that he’s a half demon.”

“Does he know you know?”

“I’d be dead if he did. No, he doesn’t know I know. Every half demon’s got a monthly moment of weakness where their human state takes over, and his was disgusting and inhuman. I don’t know what the fuck he did to become the creature he is, but because he was incapacitated, he didn’t even realize I was there. I was young, and I had my mother -“ He halted, redirecting his sentence. “I had other things to take into consideration. So, I didn’t do anything. Couldn’t. It was risky enough sneaking in; I couldn’t take any chances. For the first time in my life, I was too rational for my own good. I had the opportunity and backed out. And, it’s my one regret in life.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at all the hell he’s brought since then, Kagome.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I could have prevented all of this if I had just killed him then.”

“Inuyasha, you were a kid.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Of course, it does. Not to mention, a guy like him would never fully let his guard down. There may always be someone at his side watching, and you could have died. Your younger self considered that then and turned around. No one would blame you for that. I certainly don’t. If you had someone or something important to think about, then you did the right thing by leaving Naraku alone.” Kagome attested.

“Whatever. Forget it.” He sighed heatedly. “The point is, I’m after Naraku, too. I know an entire tribe who wants his head. I know humans who would pay to have him killed. This is Naraku we’re talking about, he’s made nothing but enemies. So, Kikyo needs to chill out with this whole the responsibility is ours shit.”

Kagome sat on all of that for a moment, taking in Inuyasha’s steadfast glare and hardened brow, his set jaw and hardly-noticeable frown, the same determination she’d like to claim she, herself, radiated. He was after Naraku. Inuyasha, the first person she’d met on her journey, was also after Naraku. Maybe that’s why she was so interested in him when they’d first met, maybe that was why she wasn’t as afraid of him as she knew she should have been. Maybe her intuition was telling her he was more than trustworthy, and more than just an ally. Maybe it was fated for them to meet.

It wasn’t something she felt bold enough to mention aloud, though. Fate was a controversial topic, and at this point, it was nothing more than a fleeting contemplation. Throwing the thought out there would surely get her weirder looks than she’d already received, and with how tense things were in the room, Kagome didn’t know if it was the right thing to talk about at the moment. She needed to deliberate on it. She needed to see how it settled in her gut before bringing anything to Inuyasha’s attention.

“The - uh - the second thing I’d wanted to ask was sort of answered already, but I just want to make sure I’ve got it all.” Kagome prefaced. “You said you saw Naraku in a debilitated state, right? That he was in his weakened, human form, but was also… inhuman?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, if that’s what you’re looking for. It was sort of like his head was basking in a jumbled mess of demon intestines.”

She wavered in a disgusted manner.

“Yeah, I know.” He remarked.

“So, that made you think he’s a half demon?”

“No, that let me know he was a half demon. An unnatural one.” Inuyasha stated pridefully. “Trust me, Kagome, if anyone’s able to tell, it’s me.”

“That’s fair. So, are you part of a group prepared to take him on?”

The hanyou scoffed, shaking his head as a small smirk appeared across his face, golden eyes blinking to the side. “No fucking way. Do I look like a groupie to you? I do things on my own, in my own way, and in the end it’s going to be half breed against half breed.”

“Wait, you’re committed to a solo mission, but you’re against mine and Kikyo’s?”

“Yes and no. I’m against yours because you don’t know what you’re doing at no fault of your own. I’m against yours because you’re being told to leap when you haven’t even learned how to jump, and you’re prepared to do so because you’re naive enough to think someone knows what’s best for you just because they’re another conjurer. I don’t care if you, or Kikyo, or anyone else makes it to the battle field. In fact, if you do, even better. It can be an all out war for all I care. What I’m saying is, it’s going to be me that brings Naraku’s era to an end.”

Kagome had to respect his pugnacity. If he did get the final blow, he’d definitely deserve that victory. No matter what, it would be a win for everyone.

He was right, she didn’t know what she was doing. Yet. Kikyo was holding things off until Kagome was ready, and she was more than willing to give the stronger conjurer the benefit of the doubt. She said she had potential, but Kagome was willing to bet that not even Kikyo knew she had the power she’d exhibited yesterday under her belt. Kagome had to focus on learning how to handle it, and she would. She’d go from where she was comfortable and begin pushing forward. She’d take the power she regularly used in her routine training with Miroku and Sango and present more until she found her natural limit. That was where she’d exercise it until her body was adjusted. Until that boundary became comfortable so that she could then push that. It was all a matter of time, and Kagome would be sure to catch up. It wasn’t Kikyo’s will anymore. It was her own.

“Look,” Inuyasha spoke lowly. “I gave you information I’ve never given to anyone else before. Don’t go telling anyone Naraku’s a half demon, I’m serious. Tell that to the wrong person and it’ll get you killed faster than you can imagine. I want to believe you’ll go far, but you’ve gotta be smart about shit.”

Kagome nodded, “I understand. I won’t tell anyone other than Kikyo.”

“Good. You should go to sleep.”

“No, I’m okay.” She shook her head. She felt wide awake, and there was no way she’d be able to sleep after receiving all of that information. She needed to sort it all out and file it away categorically. She needed to make sure she remembered every minor detail Inuyasha had kindly given her. She needed to remember his defensiveness over her own conflicting situation. It was one thing for him to call her names, which she half expected at this point, but she never pictured him expressing passion over an issue that didn’t belong to him. Inuyasha, though rough around the edges, was truly a good person. And, it helped aid in her drive. “I basically slept from last night until this evening. I’m tired of being in bed.”

“I don’t care. You may feel better, but you still look exhausted. If I were you, I’d take advantage that you have the option. At least lay down.”

Again, he was right. Kagome unfurled from her spot on the chair, looking at the futon on the floor as she leaned to head in that direction.

“No.” He stopped her, his tone more demanding than necessary. “Take the bed.” Inuyasha stood, pointing to the mattress.

“I don’t mind the futon.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You should take the bed tonight.”

“I’m most likely not going to sleep.”

“If I were you, I’d take advantage that you have the option.” Kagome echoed, deepening her voice almost derisively.

“I wasn’t the one puking my brains out last night.” Inuyasha growled. “Get your dumbass in the bed.”

“It’s not that I don’t want the bed, I just think that it would be more fair if I took the futon.”

“Are you really arguing about being fair right now?”

“You slept on it last night, so tonight you deserve the bed.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Well, I want the futon.” Kagome laughed, dropping to her knees on the cushion and crawling over it.

“I said, take the bed.” Inuyasha growled deeper, stomping over to the infuriating woman.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Stop! Don’t touch me!”

“Last chance!” He warned, but she gave no signs that she’d scamper away, so the hanyou grabbed Kagome around her waist, pulled her up like a sack of rice, and tossed her over his shoulder, all the while she was laughing and yelping.

“Put me - ouch! Put me down!”

“Alright.” He muttered as he dropped her on the mattress.

Kagome was quick to grab the end of her gown, making sure it didn’t expose too much of her legs as she was bounced on the bed. “God, your shoulder is freaking bony.” She groaned.

Inuyasha fought back his grin, instead shooting up both middle fingers at her. Kagome grimaced mockingly in retort, adjusting herself to sit up.

“Why are you so aggressive? Wait, no! How’s your shoulder? You didn’t open the wound doing that, did you?” She asked, her attitude quickly shifting from teasing to concerned.

“It’s fine.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes, strolling back over to the futon. “I told you it’d be fine. I checked it a little while ago. There’s no chance of it opening again.”

“Is it still bandaged?”

“Shut up.”

“Is it still bandaged?” She repeated, a little more pressingly.

“Yes, Kagome. It’s bandaged. I changed them and everything.” He replied, kicking off his boots and laying down. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I do know how to take care of myself.”

“God forbid someone shows that they care about you.” Kagome grumbled, rolling her eyes just as he would. She turned around, pulling down the blankets so she could crawl beneath and get comfortable.

“I don’t need you to care about me.”

“Well, too bad, buddy. You got it.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Is it really so bad to have someone care about you? Are you scared or something?” Kagome jokingly taunted.

Yes, he was. He was terrified of her. And, she needed to shut the fuck up while she was still ahead, because she’ll never know a damn thing about it.

“I’m glad your shoulder is better.” She mentioned after a small moment, dropping all edge to her tone. “And, I’m sorry I noticed it so late.”

Kagome didn’t mind the silence. She didn’t mind his gruffness. Well, she did, but in this circumstance, she really didn’t find it offensive. He had his own unconventional way of showing he cared, and she had a more surface-level way of expressing it. Inuyasha was a good person. He really was. She liked to imagine he forced her to take the bed because it was more comfortable, and that simple act alone showed just how kind he was beneath the surface.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome spoke softly, cuddling into her pillows after freeing her hair from the messy knot it was in.

“Hm?” He grunted.

“You mentioned your mother when you said you saw Naraku in his vulnerable form.”

“No, I didn’t.” Inuyasha stated, very direct in his way of maneuvering the topic away from that. He rested on the futon, his shirt now untucked for a little more comfort, uncovered, and an arm resting behind his head. His amber eyes stared at the ceiling, a bristling sensation running over his skin at the mention of his mother.

“No, no, I’m not going to ask anything personal. I promise.” Kagome swore, worrying her bottom lip as she sensed Inuyasha’s discontent. She’d observed the way he’d corrected himself when initially mentioning his mom, and it was easy to understand that it wasn’t something he was willing to casually discuss. Nor would she think it was her place to make him. “It just had me thinking of the timeframe of things.”

“What?”

“Well, Naraku became known about five years ago, right? Four and a half, maybe? But, your mother died when you were fourteen, which was -“

“Six years ago, yes.” He said. “What, did you think Naraku just rose from the earth and started wreaking havoc? Everyone’s got a beginning, a middle, and an end, Kagome. Even he had to start somewhere.”

She felt stupid for not considering that. Kagome should have pieced together that Naraku wouldn’t just wake up one morning and decide to become a serial killer or commit genocide. He had a beginning. Before the rise she knew from him, he was still around, still perpetrating evil acts, they just went unknown to those outside of the circle it happened within.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Something tells me you’re going to no matter what, so go for it.” Inuyasha responded.

She stifled her giggle. “How much is the room?”

“Hm?”

“How much is Kaede going to charge you for the room?”

“What does it matter?”

“I’d like to contribute.” Kagome stated matter-of-factly. “I have some money, and it’s not right to expect you to pay for it all.”

“It’s fine.” He said, closing his eyes. “I don’t care about that.”

“Inuyasha -“

“Seriously. It’s not a big deal. I already paid the wage, so don’t worry about it.”

“That was - that was really nice of you. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you so much.” Kagome smiled.

“I have my moments. Will you go to sleep now?” It came as more of an instruction than a legitimate question that needed answering, so Kagome sighed out and closed her eyes, snuggling into her quilt as she pulled it closer to her face.

It was surprising what a little comfort could do for her right now. In the span of mere minutes, she went from wide awake to significantly drowsy. Kagome had thought she’d be laying there for hours, but just like that, in the warmth of the bed, in the softness of the blankets, of the fresh nightgown she wore, in the safety and security beneath both Inuyasha’s and Kaede’s protection, Kagome grew heavy in her spot before drifting into slumber.

—

The conjurer gazed at herself in the mirror in the bathroom. The mark around her neck was a soft hint of yellow, and while she felt it was gross the more she stared at it, it was also hardly noticeable anymore. Distracting herself, Kagome brushed her hair, then finished tightening and tying off her bodice, her shirt beneath slightly bunching, which she straightened out the best she could.

There was a violent flurry of butterflies in her abdomen, and nothing she’d done had yet to quell them. After letting the notion from last night really settle and sink in, Kagome honestly felt like it was true. This was fated to happen. Coincidence wasn’t this particular. He’d saved her, kept her with him - forcefully, of course, let her go, only for something to happen that made them rejoin. Lo and behold, she finds out they’re literally on the same course. So, why not do it together? It made sense to her, and it was the first thing in a long time that made sense. Now, she just needed to make it make sense to Inuyasha.

With one final, deep breath, Kagome opened the door to exit the bathroom, finding Inuyasha facing out the window. He was dressed, his sword attached to his hip, and his light hair pulled back into a ponytail that hung long. He’d said they’d get ready, have breakfast, then head out on their own, so she figured he was waiting for her.

“Hey,” Kagome started, trying not to bob from foot-to-foot nervously. She didn’t understand why, exactly, she was so uneasy about asking this. It was a simple yes or no question, if you thought about it. The worst he could say was no, and then she’d move on with her life. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good.” He teased, looking over his shoulder.

“Ha-ha.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re both after the same thing, right? We both want to take down Naraku. Well, don’t you think it’d be more efficient if we did it together?”

There was a minor twitch in his brows, the corners of his lips arching downward before he spoke, turning around to fully face her. “What makes you think that?”

“I’ve never thought it would be wise for anyone to face this lunatic on their own. Personally, that was never actually in my plan. I don’t care what Kikyo says; the more we have on our side, the better. I don’t picture Naraku as invincible, but I also don’t want to underestimate him, either. He’s got this reputation for a reason. He’s capable of killing off so many for a reason. To think that a single person could potentially be responsible for his demise is a stretch. So, if we have the same goal in mind, why don’t we do this together? Instead of going out on our own after breakfast, I think we should team up. What do you say?”

Inuyasha stared at her for a second, his lips sealed shut as he hardened himself. Travel with Kagome? Keep things going as they are? No, in fact, it’d end up being more personal. She’d be by his side, she’d fight by his side, they’d go into battle together, be a team. He couldn’t have that.

It wasn’t about how much he hated the idea of banding together with someone to complete an objective. It wasn’t even about how much he’d never enjoyed the concept of relying on someone else. It was about how uncomfortable he'd started feeling around her. How unsettled he got whenever she smiled at him, how warm or welcoming her energy felt, and how off-putting that was to him. It was about the fact that Inuyasha felt it growing easier and easier to joke around and view her as an actual person as opposed to just some measly girl he met wandering in the woods at the most inopportune time.

Kagome was sensible, he’d give her that. But, it was better for him to remain alone. For his own sake. He had a feeling Kagome would grow argumentative if he said a simple decline, though, so he planned to make the notion completely undesirable for her.

“Not interested.” Inuyasha stated with a curl of his upper lip. “Do I look like a bodyguard to you?”

“What? No, that’s not -“

“I know that’s not what you meant, but that’s what would end up happening. We met how long ago? And, how many times have I saved your ass? Don’t think I see that as mere happenstance; I can tell that it’s a trend with you. You’ve always gotta have someone there to cover for you when you get in over your head, which is most likely way more often than you’re willing to admit. Probably why you originally had your cousin and friend enlisted to come with you. Speaking of which, you said your cousin’s got a broken rib, right? Got it from trying to protect you from Naraku’s demons? See where I’m going with this? No way am I signing myself up for that bullshit.”

An icy sensation began creeping over Kagome as each word he spoke struck her in her most sensitive insecurities. Was this really what he thought of her? One second, he admired her strength, but now all of a sudden, she was too weak to even take care of herself?

“I - I saved you, too.” Was all she could say in that moment. She deserved her fair share of credit. Inuyasha didn’t get the right to be impressed only to malign her out of nowhere.

“Sure,” He shrugged his brows, unaffected. There was a small sneer within his tone, and she caught it loud and clear. “And, I had to turn around and pull you out of there before you got yourself caught and killed. In my opinion, that negates your effort.”

“Hey!”

“No, Kagome. You’d only end up slowing me down and holding me back. Worse, you might even get me killed. You’re hopeless. You don’t know what you’re doing. Why would I want to keep that around?”

Kagome could only flinch at his harsh statements, each sentence punching her, burning her, creating a heavy weight within her stomach that brought it to sink lower and lower.

“I’m not going to squander all of my crusades to protect you. I’m not going to waste my fucking time keeping you alive when you’re nothing but a magnet for trouble.” He didn’t believe a word he said. In fact, he’d never meant to go quite this far. All of it just tumbled from his mouth, meaningless, but he could see that it held plenty of meaning for the woman opposite him. No matter. He was in too deep, and there was no way she’d want to team up with him now. “Kagome, you left home how many days ago? Four? Five? It’s been less than a fucking week, and look where the fuck you are. I said I wouldn’t say anything rude last night, and I kept my promise, but it’s a new day. Want to know what I really think? You’re a fucking idiot. You can’t do anything right. Not on your own. You cant even protect yourself, so it’s not right of you to expect me to do it for you. If Kikyo won’t even take you, what makes you think I will?”

Just like that, he regretted everything. He’d gone too far with that one. He’d said way more than necessary. He should have stopped when he realized he was pushing it. He should have stopped prior to that. Kagome was crushed, he could see the pain in her eyes. There was no taking back something like that, though, and he couldn’t stand to look at her right now. So, Inuyasha spun around on his heel, once again looking out the window.

He’d just reaffirmed every negative thing she’d been thinking about herself. She thought she was a failure, and so did he. She thought she was helpless, and so did he. She thought she was ridiculous for thinking she could take on this large of a mission, and so did he. So did he. She thought they were friends, she thought they had a mutual respect for each other, but apparently he thought even less of her than she even did.

It was so incredibly hard to pick her head up in that moment. It was so difficult to tell herself that she could do what she’d come to do, that everything that had occurred was a series of unfortunate events that no one could have ever predicted, that she’ll get better with time and experience and practice, and when it came down to it, she’d be as fearsome as she once believed she was meant to be. She couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not when his words still swam in her mind, repeating themselves, solidifying her weaknesses and insecurities. Kagome felt worthless. She felt vile. She felt horrible and admonished.

The pain was thick, but the last thing she would ever do was allow Inuyasha the satisfaction of thinking he was right. Kagome wouldn’t let him to see her cry. Just beneath that sadness, that hurt, sat a bubbling layer of anger. How dare he? Who the hell did this guy think he was? No one gets to speak to her that way. It didn’t matter if they were right, it didn’t matter if they’d saved her life more than once, none of that was relevant. That did not give them the justification to speak down to her like she was nothing.

If he didn’t want to be partners, fine. A simple no would have sufficed, but fine. If he didn’t want to be friends, then good. Neither did she. Good riddance. If he didn’t like her, then that was his prerogative. She was still a person with feelings, a person with a good heart, a person who deserved at least an ounce of respect, so she’d do the right thing and be the one to respect herself. It was more beneficial than expecting the bare minimum from a guy as disagreeable as Inuyasha.

Kagome notched her chin upward, sucking in a heated breath as she turned around. There was no way in hell she was sitting through breakfast with Inuyasha, or even spending one more worthless moment in his presence. Her time would be better spent getting as far away from him as physically possible. The other side of the planet would do.

She found her bag and weapons in the corner, crouching before it all and reaching into the pouch. Her medical supplies were already stored away, everything was arranged, but she reached in and yanked out Inuyasha’s stupid, red robe, dropping it on the futon. Then she grabbed her little sack of money, pulling out a few coins that she felt was more than enough to cover her share. Kagome pulled the drawstring tight, strapped her bag over her shoulders, then her quiver of arrows, followed by her bow.

The remorse sat heavily on Inuyasha’s shoulders, within his abdomen. He hated everything he’d said, hated more so that he’d hurt her so easily. So quickly. She was feisty and quick to argue, so it shocked him when she could barely say anything in return. Kagome hardly attempted to contradict his false statements. Was there a chance she thought the same of herself? Was there a chance she was fighting herself over what she’d been through? No, it didn’t make sense. There was no way that was the case, because even he couldn’t convince himself that anything he’d claimed was true. She knew herself better than he did, so there was no way she’d succumb to believe a damn thing he’d just said. He’d probably just scraped her feelings a bit. Kagome seemed to be on the sensitive side.

It was wrong of him to jump to his decision so quickly, he knew that. Even worse was going down the irrational route he had out of anxiety. Truth was, mere seconds after saying all he had, he couldn’t find any actual harm in traveling together. If it was just because he wasn’t mentally prepared to rely on another, to think well of another, to potentially be any amount of vulnerable around another, then it really had nothing to do with her. Inuyasha should sit on it, think it through. He should consider the pros and cons and determine the right road to head down. Maybe even take things by trial. If they mesh well, if they can keep up with one another, then maybe it wouldn’t be so horrible.

He could hear her grabbing her things. Who would want to stick around after something like that? He could hardly blame her. No matter how much he wanted to stop her and tell her to calm down, he was in no position to do so. They needed space. He’d gone way over the line from the moment he’d opened his fucking mouth. Chances are, she wouldn’t get far. He could sniff her out easily; he’d gotten plenty used to her scent by now. She could go storm off all she wanted, get some fresh air, be as mad as she needed to be, and he’d catch up later to set things straight.

At the bang of her hand against the tabletop next to the bed, Inuyasha whipped his head around to look over his shoulder. Kagome pierced him with a dangerous glare, her fist atop the wood clenched tight until it opened to release a decent amount of money, the coins clinking as they hit one another. Her plush lips were pressed into a deadly frown, and her brows were deeply furrowed. Everything about her radiated a loathing rage, the hurt he’d gifted fuming passionately within her.

Before he could speak, even say her name, she beat him to the punch. Kagome was ready to leave, her cheeks a furious shade.

“Go fuck yourself.” She seethed, turning around and slamming the door on her way out.

Kagome wanted to be hasty in leaving Inuyasha’s energy behind, but she still needed to appear as composed as remotely possible for the time being. There were no doubt people in the pub below, Kaede included, and the last thing she wanted was to announce her upset for all to see. She didn’t like being an open book for just anybody to read, and it was no one else’s business. As much as she wanted to simply walk out and never look back, Kaede didn’t deserve that unwarranted treatment. Just before the sole of her boots hit the floor of the bottom step, Kagome took a deep breath, and with her slow, meditative exhale, she planted a smile on her face.

It was a good thing, too. As she stepped out of the hall into the entrance area, just beside the long counter that led to the barstools and dining room, she spotted Kaede scribbling notes into her guestbook. Kaede lifted her head, and as her good eye landed on Kagome, she greeted her with a smile, closing the book and setting down her pen to give her proper attention.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” The inn keeper asked.

“Never better. You’re amazing.” Kagome complimented, her grin widening as she approached the counter. “Next time I visit, I want to hear more about what you can do.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You’ll boost my ego too much, and then my head will be too big to fit through any doors.” Kaede laughed, waving her hand gingerly.

“It’s well-deserved, Kaede. Thank you so much.”

“Please don’t thank me anymore. You said enough thank you’s yesterday to last a lifetime, sweetie.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Kagome giggled.

“So, what’ll you have for breakfast?” Kaede inquired, raising her brows.

“Oh, nothing. I’m actually heading out. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“You’re leaving?” The inn keeper questioned, her expression falling slightly. In the momentary silence where Kagome only answered with a small nod of her head, Kaede looked back over toward the empty doorway that led to the inn portion of her building. “Where’s Inuyasha?”

“Still upstairs.” Kagome said. “He should be down soon, but either way, we’re parting. I already said my thanks, and he was a bit busy, so I figured I’d just get a head start instead of awkwardly waiting around.” She tried to keep her tone as casual as possible, giving herself mental reminders along the way to keep the pleasant smile on her face.

“Busy doing what?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t want to intrude. Seemed like he was studying his sword or something; I forgot its name. Anyway, I’ll be off.”

“And, you’ll be careful?”

“Of course. I’m heading home now.”

“Home?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t know why she’d said that. The lie came out of nowhere, but it was getting harder to remain nonchalant. Her heart was still throbbing, and she felt like Kaede had grown suspicious of something just because Inuyasha wasn’t by her side. There was no reason for that, but Kagome could feel the spike in disturbance. She needed to keep Kaede from asking if everything was alright, which she could tell was probably on the tip of her tongue, so Kagome hoped that her cheap excuse of going home would be enough to make Kaede think that Inuyasha didn’t need to be a part of this since they had no reason to be associated with one another from this point forward. “If I get going now, I should be back in my village by this evening.”

“That’s a pretty long journey for one day.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad.” Kagome shrugged.

“And, you’re sure you’re feeling alright? I can give you some medicine for the road; I’ve got plenty extra.” Kaede offered.

“Oh, no thank you. Believe me, I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Alright, I’m just a little worried about you pushing yourself right now.” She tilted her head, analyzing the girl before her. Something wasn’t lining up. Something was off, but it felt wrong to speak up about it. Maybe it was just her concern getting the better of her.

“You have nothing to worry about, Kaede. It’s nothing but a long walk. I’ll take breaks, I’ll stay hydrated, and I’ll get a long night’s rest the moment I get home. If it comes down to it, I’ll break it up into two days and camp out if I feel over exerted, but I don’t think that’ll be entirely necessary.”

“Alright, I trust you. Will you at least take some food for the road?”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I really wasn’t asking.” The inn keeper smirked, tapping her fingernails on the countertop impatiently. “You’re taking some food with you. I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, Kaede headed around the bend into the kitchen. It was only a small moment later when she reappeared, and in her hands, she held two large, wrapped pastries with some sort of frosted coating on top.

“Cinnamon rolls for the cinnamon roll.” Kaede giggled. “That should be enough to snack on.”

“Thank you so much.” Kagome smiled.

“Turn around, I’ll put these in your bag for you.” She said, coming from behind the counter. She opened the pouch and dropped them on top of her things, pulling the bag shut and securing it tightly. “You be safe, Kagome. And, come back whenever you want. You’re always welcome here.”

“I will. I’ll definitely visit again. Next time, under better circumstances.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kaede smiled, tapping the tip of her finger against Kagome’s nose. “Go on, get going. Be safe, sweetie.”

“Bye.” That time, it was a genuine grin, returning the friendliness that was kindly offered to her.

The outside air didn’t feel any better than the inside stuffiness. Kagome was hoping to be able to take an uplifting breath, but as soon as she didn’t have to upkeep a facade any longer, the crushing disappointment returned. Again, she felt the urgency to get as far away from Inuyasha as she possibly could, so she headed in the direction they’d initially entered the village in, her legs pumping at a very quick pace.

The forest was loud, lively, her thoughts even greater. Her mind was clouded with anger, noisy with resentment, her chest filled with a dense sludge and her abdomen tense as she stomped her way along the undesignated path. Even this far into the woods, this far away from the town, a couple of hours having passed, she was still weighted with everything Inuyasha had had the audacity to proclaim. The gall of that jerk.

All he had to say was, “no, thanks.” He could have even stuck with the, “Not interested” he began with, but no. The bastard had to keep going, and going, and going, and going. Kagome outwardly groaned, her cheeks growing hotter as her temper never calmed. Sure, she would have asked why. Who wouldn’t want to know why their business proposal was being rejected? That being said, she wouldn’t have guilted him, she wouldn’t have begged him, and she wouldn’t have obligated him in any manner to take her up on it. There was no reason, absolutely no reason, for Inuyasha to go off like that.

If that’s how he really felt, why did he waste so much energy being even obscurely kind to her? Kagome couldn’t even believe she’d thought so well of him. So highly. He didn’t deserve those nice thoughts she’d silently regarded him with last night, or the night before, or the night before that, and she wanted them all back. As if they were written on a board of some sort, Kagome wanted to vehemently erase all of her gracious opinions of him and write in big, bold letters over it all: I hate Inuyasha!

“You’re a long way from home, dearie.”

Kagome stopped abruptly, ice replacing the warmth she’d just recently been shrouded in. A demon stepped out in front of her, tan skin and scarred features immediately causing fear to passionately drive through each vein in her body. Even her breath halted in her throat, her lungs forgetting how to work in that moment as she stared into this man’s red eyes.

She hadn’t sensed him. Hadn’t felt any of the demons that now appeared around her, stepping out from behind trees with crooked smiles and pointed teeth. Now that she looked at them, their putrid auras tainted the atmosphere, and she realized she’d made the biggest mistake imaginable.

Kagome had allowed her emotions to overrule all other senses. She was distracted, painfully so, and she stumbled into a territory she should have known to avoid. She should have felt them coming, should have known they were around. She should have noticed their presence looming, she should have felt the danger around her, and she should have recognized exactly who they were before they appeared.

“What was your name again?” The demon asked.

She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to think, surprised and uneasy and unbelievably stiff. The demon stepped forward, his lips parting while he arched a brow in curiosity. Kagome shuddered, gasping, as she paced backward to create space, unable to look away from the leader of the henchmen who’d killed the young conjurer of her village.

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#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #Inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #Inuyasha fic #Inukag fanfiction #Inukag fanfic #Inukag fic #monster #heh.... sorry guys lol #akitokihojo

[illyrian-lover-flower]

Day 3:  Spies at work

Thank you so much @elrielmonth​ for planning this wonderful event and all the lovely prompts😊😘

The secrets shadows share

word count: ~4 k

It was the quietest as it had been in months. No laughter or agitated chatting breezed through the air or through the river estate, as merely the wind sang today. Bringing the sweet seer a lullaby of pure peace as her lithe hands kneaded the weed out of the earth in front of her, as if it were a loath of delicious bread, about to unfold its true flavour in the hot depths of a spacious oven, which graced the kitchen. 

Though, of course, would she never bake the earth -she was no little child of the age of six anymore- but this earth she tended to would be the oven for hundreds and hundreds of flower seeds. Nurturing them among the mushy grounds until their heads peaked through the layer of mud, eager to feel the shining light of the sun on their petals.

And the flowers were not the only ones craving the touch of sunlight, as the caressing warmth was her only distraction at the moment, of the things which reeled through her head and loved to remember her of what this day might bring.

The twins had asked her to gather some information’s regarding the clipping of Illyrian females at an Illyrian camp, which rested at the feet of the first mountain in the Illyrian Mountains, their latest observations had stated that the number of clippings had increased rapidly -the High Lords law, a mere bump in the road as they overstepped it almost on a daily base. But even if the twins knew of that, they did yet have not gathered much information’s to prove their research and spying. And as all the preparations for Nesta’s Birthday were keeping them busy, Elain was their last card as Azriel himself was away on a mission – this was at least the thought everyone harboured, as there was nothing heard of him for the past two weeks.

The three spies, well two and one in training, had considered the option of telling Rhysand, but as they saw how busy he seemed, building up the structure from his court at the very pit of the beginning while he also tried to be there for is son and wife, who herself had much on her plate to do, made them believe it was better to keep those two out of option. And even if they would have considered it further to tell Rhys and Feyre of their findings, all it would have done would have been, to invoke a duel of blood and war as the Illyrians did not see any further reason to trust their High Lord, when he in return did not offer the same.

And so, sweet Elain would be the one to go, scurrying around the camps as if she were a slave of one of the higher rated Illyrians, while her pointed ears would gather information’s she would whisper and her hands circumstantial evidence she would slip over to the twins once she was done.

It was all just that. Tried Elain to calm her straining nervous as her hands roamed the earth farther and farther, no crumb, as little as it was, untouched by her naked fingers as the coldness caressed her fingertips. She would only gather some information, stay till tomorrow at the camp and then go home again, with, hopefully, some useful information – that was it, so she hoped as dread had long settled into her guts heavy as a rock and screamed for her attention as it placed the scary thought, of what might happen if a clipping were to take place within these days, in her head.

Elain breathed in and out through her nose, as she tried to calm herself further with the musty scent of the wet earth and as she felt, with the slip of time, the sweet kiss of sunlight caressing her skin for a final goodbye, she knew it was time. A final deep breath, that was all she took as she let the chilled air of night fill her lungs, and smeared the earth, that clung to her fingertips, all over her face.

The mushy soil on her face, the first element of her costume she would wear, as she winnowed, with a slight tremble of her body, away into the slowly darker painted room she inhabited at the river estate.

It had taken her a long time to learn this, but the twins had never given up on her, always helping -and motivating- her in their own way, as they hid some ancient recipes, she wanted to try out, from Elain at the place she should winnow to. And it helped, motivated her in a way she had not thought as possible, as she had learned to walk through the folds of this world, like a needle through fabric, at the beginning of the second month they trained with each other. Dark nights and a veil of stars their only witnesses of this training for the past five months, as the moon illuminated Elain’s room with noisy, ghostly hues of silver, which slipped past the billowing sheet of her curtains as the twins were most often there to teach her the ways of the shadow world.

And today, tonight, would be the day she would prove to the two wraiths, with a heart of pure gold, that she did take each and every of their lessons serious as she slipped out of the green gown, of flowing chiffon and let it pool to her feet. A hill, small and delicate forming to her bottom, as the lower seems were stained in the brown of the earth and softly weaved itself higher to the fabric until only the clean green was left. It was a picture of life, one her sisters would have not understood, as they would have merely seen a gown, stained in streaks of dirt, but compared to the rags which she slipped on now, it looked like a piece of pure gold. Even the dress she had worn, back in the little hut , which she could still hear crying after its inhabitants, in her little village, came closer to a gown than the rag she wore now.

Brown, grey and even greenish tatters of fabric were scantily sewn together as they formed the dress, which hang loosely down her body and barely reached those creamy calves of hers as not even a belt hung around her middle. The twins had told her, that if she were to play a slave, she could not have such extravagances, as the long sleeves of her dress were already something most slaves did not have the luxury to wear. So, this sag had to do, along with the head rag she placed carefully over the bronze mass of her hair.

Though it had not taken five minutes for one of the twins, Nuala, to arrive, in a stiffer stance than usual, and decide to do any further adjustments on the seers costume, which mostly related to a small dark dagger which the wraith hid away in the hem of her underwear. “Just in case.” Murmured the twin at her, as she gave the hiding spot of the dagger a little pat to make sure the blade was properly adjusted.

Elain merely offered her beloved friend a fragile smile with a hug as sweet and warm as the sunrise, trying to ease the tension in her, in shadow befogged, shoulders; “I’ll be fine Nuala, don’t worry.” Was all the seer could say in order to prevent the nerves of her friend from snapping, as those cold hands of hers settled around her delicate hips “My sister and I wish you a lot of luck, little fawn, yet luck alone won’t bring you home safely, so please take care of yourself. Avoid any danger you can.”

“I will.” Guaranteed Elain her companion with silent words as they got carried away by the veil of shadows. And before the seer knew it, did she stand at the dark rim of a forest, close to the entrance of the camp, all by herself as the howling wind already tried to pinch her flesh in cold gusts, making her move towards the width of the camp in the hopes of some warmth.

It was mere steps she had to take in order to move inside, yet it were painfully awkward strides as the mushy earth beneath her already seeped through the thin shoe sole of the boots, which were chosen for her. But she couldn’t care, couldn’t complain as all she had in mind was to help the females which needed it most, as her heart was well aware of the bewildering song the wind sung already dozens of times into her ear, whenever she flew with Azriel, which had sadly stopped after the fateful solstice, mere ten months ago. But again, she could not complain about this heart wrenchingly deep pain she felt, could not even think about this, as her ears were to pick up some useful information.

Though as for right now, all she heard was the billowing laugh of males gathered around a giant, cackling, bone fire. Clanking their overfilled mugs together over a good old warriors’ tale one of the males told with great passion, as he showed and demonstrated on the chilly evening air how he had, already hundreds of times, broken the neck of his opponents, in a twisting motion, as if he merely opened a bottle of wine. Elain’s guts twisted at the mere thought of ever witnessing such violence, while the males gathered around the bulky warrior cheered and clapped in adoration of the great tasks he had fulfilled with this single motion, while others eagerly added their own tales and bathed in the adoration and attention their own tasks of violence granted them.

It was a sickening topic to discuss and showed just how much heart these people had here, thought Elain as she scurried between the warriors silently around the bone fire, carrying a mug of heavy ceramic in her own freezing hands as she bowed her head to each warrior and filled the beakers of those which wished for a refill. A mere lift of their massive arm, in which they held their beer, all they had to do to set the steps of the dirty slave, which Elain played, hurrying over the muddy grounds.

“Hey! You have a face?” lulled one of the warriors at her long after the delicate scythe of the moon had taken its residence in the cloak of black velvet. Elain merely ducked her head as the warrior stumbled over his own feet towards her and pressed his filthy fingers below her delicate chin, to make her look at him; “Oh you have. And what a pretty one even.” It was in that moment that she knew how those warriors could commit such acts of bloodshed, as she saw the filthy lust and pure desire burn, as high as the bone fire, behind the males’ green eyes as he merely saw a piece of meat he would devour tonight. The seer had to bite back her scowl, while her gaze, innocent and submissively, lowered itself to the ground again, pleasing the male in front of her as he merely swung and arm around her shoulder and moved her forward to mother knows where.

Her nerves were at edge as he stumbled one drunken step and another one forward, weighing her delicate shoulder with his massive form as he seemed to use the seer more than a walking stick instead of a sweet companion he wanted to coax into his bed and be a lovely toy of great service to him. But who was she to complain? Elain herself merely wondered how many steps the Illyrian could continue taking, until the alcohol, which she had poured him, slowly started to completely take over his and let him forget everything.

However, it had not taken long before those questioned thoughts became reality, a small root – seemingly delicate, yet osseus- peaked out of the ground and let those booted feet trip over the little bow it formed. A yelp of surprise was all that left the males mouth as he fell – and stayed there. Resting, snoring like an infant, on his stomach on the earth.

Elain could do nothing to hide that smirk on her thin lips. Looks like as if fourteen beakers of wine, mixed with beer, were enough to send an overgrown bat, like Nesta loved to mock Cassian, high into the clouds and rest for a good old nap. Which gave Elain time and freedom to scry for what she needed.

It hadn’t taken no more than five minutes for the clever seer to find the tent she was searching for. Glooming, covered in a blanket of beige, did it stand under the moonlight and practically beckoned her to come closer as those heavy curtains billowed in the freezing wind.

There was no hesitance in Elains silent steps as she slipped into the waiting gorge of the specious tent. All sorts of hidden gems -papers, maps, lists which harboured the names of the next females who would lose their wings-  ready to be discovered by the gentle flower grower, who had merely watched out this evening to find a male stupid enough to not know his limits while he would hopefully lead her deeper into the camp.

A thing of secret, loving beauty at his arm as no one would suspect a thing while she silently noted and judged every step which was taken on these grounds. Something the twins had been drilling into her as they claimed that Azriel himself had punctured this into their very skulls.

Azriel, her heart jumped and leaped in joy as she finally allowed the name of this lovely male back in her mind, as she had not let that happen ever since this fateful solstice. This sweet name, those lovely memories, all tainted by a mere string of whispered words which brawled their way into the very core of her body It was a mistake.

Her lithe hands flinched away from the stack of papers she scurried through, as her heart was stabbed with the force of a daggers blade, bleeding silently out inside her chest while she read through paper after paper. A distraction which carried her too far under as those pointed ears of hers did not here the steps of heavy boots trotting through the mud closer and closer to the tent; “Is she captured?” “No not yet sir.”

Elain’s heartbeat ran a hundred miles as she heard those voices louder and louder, their shadows already stretching below the little slit which led to the outside, while the seer could merely panic. Looking around and onto each and every surface she could hid behind or under, but all that she could chose were the desks on which her noisy fingers just rummaged through pile and pile of paper. The only problem was that, even if they were of a size even Rhys and Feyre would envy but was the chosen space for the chair all open. No piece of wood would hide her away and as she already braced herself to winnow did the shadow at the tents entrance rise and rise.

A solid form of night stepping out of the pool of flitting shadows with graceful steps, while those piercing eyes of his skimmed over the room ever the briefest, landing once and for all on her.

There was a taut string between them as both stared into each other’s faces for the longest of time, which they could allow themselves, before Azriel turned his head away to look behind his massive shoulders. A flicker of a question, as bright as all seven of his siphons, danced for a second in his eyes, just like the shadows around those wonderous wings of his, but the moment was broken as soon as she heard those booming voices again.

Elain had known something like that would happen, had felt it creep up to her in her dreams just before she woke, but she did not stray from her path. Did not let anything bad happen if she could prevent it and if her own fate was on the line – she could handle it. Hundreds of fae and human alike had put their life in danger, it was time to repay them.

But before she could steel her spine and look with the greatest of disgust into the face of he two males which would bring her death, did Azriel take two long strides, swept her up in his strong arms and whisked them away into the realm of shadows only to hide in the darkness behind the massive desk.

And apparently did they work just on time as those two males entered the specious room filled of cards and secrets.

It was weird seeing them, a veil of black dust seemingly hiding those two males as if they were a bride who just anticipated the touch of their beloved groom to lift that layer of fabric between them. Elain wondered if it would feel just the same, touching the shadows as if they were a layer of chiffon, but Azriel held her back as she stretched out those pale fingers. His marred flesh caressing hers as his hand clutched tightly around her wrist; “Don’t.” whispered his ravenous voice against the shell of her ear. This strong body of his still pressed against her, fitting this delicate frame of Elains body as if he was a missing puzzle piece finally locking into the right spot, while those two males kept on talking. Exchanging names of the females which were soon to be clipped and the date on which this crippling would take place, all information Elain had already copied onto a piece of paper.

Both fae stiffened, ready to strike, as the two Illyrians kept on talking and talking about the pleasure the humiliation of the females would bring to them, while Elain and Azriel held onto each other for dear life, as the other one with them in the shadows was their lifeline, preventing each other from committing something neither could really clarify, as this was merely an undercover mission neither the High Lord nor the High Lady knew about.

It were these strained moments between her and the shadowsinger, which made her throat log and her heart pound as loud as a war drum against her chest, but apparently was Elain not the only one with strained nerves; “What are you doing here?” pressed the shadowsinger out, the intense stare of his hazel eyes never leaving the wavering form of the males.

The seer knew that no matter if day or night, tired or woken, Azriel would always know to part a lie from the truth and so she had no use to do something as cruel as lying “Spying.” “Who thought you this?”

“A friend.” Exclaimed Elain after a pause in which she wrecked her brain on how to not call her two teachers by name, but as a little shadow had wrapped around her index finger, as soft as a cattail, did she know what her answer was. And apparently was this not a lie, as she was friends with Nuala and Cerridwen, the shadows and even Azriel, so she hoped as he did not seem to want anything else from her. Yet did his arms close further around her middle as his mighty voice growled lowly through the darkness “I figured that.”

The seer had to giggle at the unease edge in his voice, the all knowing shadowsinger for once unaware of a secret as lovely as a rose. Sweet and delicate far above of the surface, whilst her body was spiked in thorns, pricking the fingers of those who were rough and harsh on her, ripping and tearing at her roots, while her leaves and blooms caressed the ones who were gentle with her, sweet and caring.  Everything the shadowsinger had once been to her.

She hadn’t even known how much she craved his presence as she was cradled into his arms once again – united with a piece of herself she hadn’t even known she was missing. But sadly, did this missing piece see her as a mistake.

Elain flinched once again at the memory of those cruel words ringing through her mind, the shadows around her rising as if they were a fountain invoked by her emotions, but Azriel’s grip on her was unfaltering, a presence of a rock in the tides as Elain whispered at him: “How long do you want to keep starring at those two?”

“Until I can see that they are leaving.” “They won’t.” “Then so do we.” The seer sighed at her stubborn friend, as the warmth of his body seeping into hers was all which held her back from going for his neck right now. “Azriel. They will discuss, for the next two hours, who of them had clipped a pair of wings the best.” The shadowsinger shuddered in her arms, if it were due to the use of his name on her tongue or the fact that these males would pride themselves with bloodshed for so long was beyond her. “You have seen it?” Elain could merely nod now, her voice clogged and caged in her throat as a scent, of sweet night chilled mist and cedar, caressed her nose with the motion.

“I need those information’s.” Was all he answered stubbornly with his jaw set as a stone, while his sweet friend shook with her head “I have them already.”

Surprise lined those godly crafted features of his as he gazed down on her. The seer offered him a charming smile, before she handed him the notes, covered in her scribbled letters, with everything she deemed as important, which was in her case everything because despite her training she was still not entirely sure of how to filter the right information from unnecessary gibberish and so she copied everything, which offered her the opportunity to see the shadowsinger bowing his head every the slightest in respect for her. “For whom are you here, Elain?”

Bracing herself with a smile as sweet as honey, as those piercing orbs of brown with swirling green and grey streaks glanced at her. “A friend and you?” This sweet smile, as little and innocent as a daisy, he offered her was a picture of pure delight while he did not let his fingers stray from her hips. Almost searing a hole through her heart and clothes as his raven voice echoed through the whispering storms of shadows “For myself.”

Elain smiled then, “Well then, Spymaster, had I helped you out well?” And as if her smile were a virus did it spread on to the sweetest pair of lips, the one pair of lips she had always wondered how they would taste on hers. Both having forgotten since a long time where they were. “Very. I might consider handing some of my work over to you.”  

Both of them giggled then, as they stood safely and secure amidst the dark sea of shadows, like two rays of sunshine, competing for who shone brighter, as Azriel let the shadows whisk them away. An inferno spreading as those calm waves of darkness washed over them, whisking them far away to a secure place, while Azriels lips lingered on the seer’s sweet forehead.

A thing of secret,lovely beauty blooming already between them, as not even the lurking clouds of hundreds and hundreds of unspoken words could make the thriving blooms between the seer and the shadowsinger welk, as there was furthermore no more missions which either one acted on alone. 

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#elriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elain #spy elain #azriel #spymaster #nuala and cerridwen #secret mission #spies at work #day3 spies at work #tension #forbidden love #illyrian