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simpingforthisonedeer · 3 years

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Chapter 7: Silver

Summary: tw: non-graphic suicide attempt but other than that, the chapter is completely sfw. The final battle with the diamond kingdom.

Notes:

- Today's chapter is shorter than usual bc im working on making the other chapters sfw so rewriting scenes, deleting them, making some stuff into innuendo etc so more people could read.

- I like to write bit more for the side characters because everyone's the main character of their story but they are relevant to the plot trust me ;)

- Be sure to check the notes at the end <3

Aika danced between spells aimed at visible enemies as she strolled towards Julius’ general direction. She took mental notes of his general attitude on the battlefield as she fiddled with her amulet, the same one she used in the Headquarters to move around unnoticed. The Amulet of Ignorance, the single most expensive magic relic Aika possessed, didn’t make her invisible, but it rather made everyone ignore her presence. If anyone were to look in her general direction, their eyes would glaze over and their gaze would move elsewhere.

Her own gaze landed on Julius’ figure, whipping around too quickly for ordinary eyes to track, but her eyes and brain processed images faster than any other man, except perhaps the only other Time Mage. She focused on observing his technique as she ignored the pangs in her heart. It’s been a week but he was still fresh on her mind.

Aika wondered if he would end up being one of her regrets.

She sighed heavily and put her feelings aside for the moment.

Julius may seem like all sunshine and smiles, but on the battlefield, he was vicious as he made split-second decisions and cut down enemies with efficiency. Clouds of enemies-turned-dust flew around him like an Augury, warning any and all of their fate if they foolishly chose to fight him. She noticed how he used the Chronostasis over a large area and immobilized enemies, but the spell only expanded so far if it touched someone first.

“He could improve that technique with mana method,” Aika thought as she moved her attention over to Evan and Jayce who insisted on fighting. Evan with his Hellfire Magic was raining literal hellfire on the enemy troops while Jayce with his peculiar Shape Magic deftly changed the terrain to his advantage as he tested out his newfound swordsmanship. Aika’s lips quirked up in pride.

He insisted she teach him herself but she was reluctant at first because as much as he was a genius, he was incredibly lazy. But Aika caved into his puppy-dog eyes and taught him the basics but he quickly developed his own style with the foundational knowledge and wielded his strangely-shaped sword quite well. He was no match for Aika due to her decades of experience but most mages these days don’t know how to counter swords well so he was pretty deadly on the battlefield.

Aika sidestepped a falling body as she winced at the mage in pity. It was an enemy mage, but she muttered a little prayer nonetheless to ensure his soul would rest in peace. Perhaps she should start praying after battle again. She used to sing a hymn in her fighting days to ensure the battlefield wouldn’t be tainted by restless souls and she could deign to do it again.

Right as she came to a decision about which prayer to use, an arrow struck her chest, more specifically her precious amulet. She stared in shock at the archer who had even detected her in the sea of mana. The masked archer lowered their bow and looked at Aika almost tauntingly before disappearing behind a hoard of mages charging at each other.

She wanted to go after them, but her first priority was to dodge the mages who turned on her because a mysterious woman just materialized out of thin air. She didn’t even have any identifiers such as a crest or a uniform, so as far as everyone is concerned, she was their enemy. She was glad that her scarf at least covered the bottom half of her face.

Aika cursed when she noticed from the corner of her eye that Evan had begun his ultimate spell.

Another reason why she was observing today’s battle was to contain the range of Evan’s spell, “Hell on Earth,” but this was not the time. She tucked the broken amulet and arrow into her cloak pocket and shot up into the sky with a sigh. She loved her amulet, but she could afford to mourn later.

Aika threw her hood over her head until it covered her eyes and spread her biggest Mana Zone spell—Queen’s Domain—until it encompassed the whole battlefield. She peeled off her black leather gloves, which suppressed her mana, and unleashed her aura of forbidden magic and smirked at the poor bastard who fell out of the sky when he neared her on his broom. The three horns that sprouted from her forehead lifted the cloak and her vision zoomed in on the growing sphere of blue flames, swelling and stopping at the impossible size of 100 meters wide in the distance.

Everyone on the battlefield froze as they stared in dumbfounded awe at the second Sun in the sky. The silence was deafening, but it only served to make the ringing in Aika’s ears louder as she concentrated on immersing her mana into the sphere and ousting Evan’s out.

Mana existed on a different plane, another realm if you will, but it had the special ability to affect other realms while staying in its own. But the opposite isn’t allowed. Controlling mana that wasn’t your own or in a way that wasn’t permitted by your magic was forbidden by the Gods themselves. In fact, interfering with other realms outside the limitations of your own given magic is forbidden magic.

Aika didn’t believe in limitations. She knew her potential was endless, as characterized by her grimoire. She sacrificed parts of herself to break through the ceiling above her, so Gods be damned. They can’t stop her.

A feral grin spread across her face as the Blue Sun slowly began moving as per her command. She controlled her breathing as she controlled two large spells simultaneously. One spell moved the flames, the other was Queen’s Domain, which combined with a sliver of forbidden magic, froze enemies in place at the sheer amount of fear coursing through their veins. She moved closer to the Diamond troops that were about to be annihilated for better control.

This magic brought out the worst in her, and right now, it relished in the screams that filled the air as the army in front of her lit up in flames. Aika ignored the ugly feeling and concentrated on her breathing again as she prayed. They even sounded like the damned.

Aika thought the battle had ended at the horrific scene she had created, but the Spade Kingdom joined the fray, forcing Master Raymond, the Wizard King himself, to join as well. After she had made sure Evan was safely off the field to recuperate his mana, she stayed high in the sky, away from most of the spells as she continued to observe Julius while keeping an eye out for the assassin who broke her precious amulet. Her heart nearly stopped when giant tree roots whipped around her to strike at the ground. How in the world was she supposed to expect roots to sprout from the sky?

As she maneuvered around them, she watched as the eye-catching hair of the Captain of the Silver Eagles fluttered in the distance. To her absolute shock, the man stayed completely still right before spikes of hard rock impaled him. Aika shot towards him with a bone-rattling bang and caught him right before he collapsed. A young man, that was the mirror image of Captain Silva, raised his spears of fluid metal at her, ready to strike but she froze him where he stood with a stasis spell of hers.

“Miss Tolliver?” Lord Silva breathed as blood dribbled down his chin. Aika’s weg vanished as worry and empathy filled her. She quickly threw up shields around them as she rewound the time until the spikes disappeared back into the ground.

“Yes, It’s me. Everything’s going to be fine. I can heal you—”

“No!” he exclaimed, then let out a violent cough. She stared at him in horror at the implication of his words and actions. “I don’t want to be healed,” he whispered, confirming her suspicions.

Aika began closing his wounds at a slow pace, slow enough so he wouldn’t notice.

“Why?” she asked mutely.

To her absolute shock, his stoic face crumpled as tears streamed like molten silver down his cheeks.

“I just want to see her again,” he choked out. He just wanted to see Acier again.

His tears and the sheer heartbreak in words made her heart clench. Aika steeled her resolve. She wasn’t going to let him do it no matter his reasons.

“No life is worth more than your own,” she spat, caught up in her own emotions. His attempt to take his own life brought back memories she would rather forget.

The Captain slackened in her hold, unable to retort. She instantly healed his wounds and watched as the blood receded. Aika picked him up with a sigh as he quickly lost consciousness at the abrupt changes to his body. Healing fatal wounds in this manner wasn’t recommended but it was necessary during battle.

“Is he alright?” Julius’ voice piped up out of nowhere. Her heart leapt to her throat. She turned around and there he was, a few meters away, brows furrowed, and eyes full of worry before they widened in surprise when he realized who he was talking to.

“Aika…”

The roar of the battle and the clanging in her head deafened as she took in his appearance. Wild hair, stormy eyes, blood-smeared cheeks and singed robes that whipped around in tandem to spells being hurled behind him.

She felt a sort of burning betrayal as she cursed her foolish heart because only one thought echoed in her mind:

He was breathtaking.

“Aika!” He exclaimed in alarm.

Julius was suddenly up in her space, forearm pressed against her collarbone as he pushed her aside. He stopped a flaming spear aimed at her back in its tracks as he barked,

“She’s an ally! Stand down!”

The Crimson Lion magic knight lowered his grimoire and looked helplessly at the frozen man next to him.

“Aika, please undo your spell on Vice Captain Nozel,” he commanded softly as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

Her spell fell as per his request and Nozel stumbled into an upright position, an indignant expression strewn across his face as he turned to Aika.

“Who are you? ” he asked shakely, and cleared his throat with an embarrassed flush.

“She is an ally, ” Julius asserted firmly. “We’ll take the Captain to the medical tent and you continue leading your men, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Nozel threw one last look at Aika before he ordered his men to focus on the enemy.

Julius turned to her with a grim face. “I will take us to the tent, if you are ready.” She nodded curtly. He laid an arm on her shoulder and she was whisked away, her vision adjusting to find that she was facing the heavy drapery of the medical tent.

A few healing mages around them jumped in alarm but quickly realized the injured man in Aika’s arms. She was quickly led to an empty bed with privacy curtains and she laid Captain Silva on it carefully as the healers took over and diagnosed him.

She explained his injuries and that she healed him but they wanted to be sure just in case.

Aika stepped back to let them do their thing and looked around to find Julius worryingly examining Silva’s prone form. He looked up and their eyes met.

Strangely enough, there wasn’t a shred of awkwardness in their gaze, but an intimacy of silent understanding, a mutual decision to set their yearning aside in the face of this war.

They both smiled in relief, almost in unison. He cocked his head at her.

“No hard feelings?” He mouthed. Aika nodded back, her heart lighter.

“No hard feelings.”

“I have to go,” he announced quietly as he bowed his head. She nodded again, her mood souring once more as she stared at the unconscious man next to her. She watched his back as he moved to leave the tent from the corner of her eye. She clenched her fist as indecision rocked within her, but she finally gave in to her first instinct.

“Be careful,” Aika called out. Julius whipped around in surprise and a grin lit up his face.

“Of course!” he replied eagerly, happy that she was actually speaking to him. “See you around!” And he vanished.

His enthusiasm brought a smile to her face but her mood was quickly interrupted by the sound of crashing waves as the ground shook. She braced herself against the metal railing of the bed’s headboard as she let out a heavy sigh.

That must be her Uncle Raymond with his grandiose water spells that could wipe out armies. She just hoped he wouldn’t use his mana zone spell that could choke people. That spell horrified even her of all people.

She shrugged off her backpack which stayed secure under her cloak and whipped out a chair. She plopped onto it wearily and glared at the silver-haired man next to her as if he was the reason for all her problems.

Aika slipped her gloves back on and rubbed her face with a groan as memories of friends and fellow comrades who have stood still and let themselves be ripped apart flashed in her mind’s eye.

She knew she shouldn’t care. He was not a friend of hers. In fact, he was quite rude to her, but this needless worry and giving into the empathy reminded that after all these years that she wasn’t corrupted, that she was still alive, that she was still human.

Aika watched with a proud grin as one last final move from Julius concluded the battle. Cheers erupted across the whole field when the Magic Knights realized their victory.

The Captains, with the exception of Silva, and the Wizard King gathered with the Diamond Kingdom’s Shining Generals to negotiate the terms of surrender. She desperately wanted to eavesdrop on their discussion but General Whomalt was still alive by the end of this battle and Aika promised him that the next time she saw him, he would be dead.

She made her way back to the medical tent and Silva was already up and about. He sat up on his bed and stared at his blanket-covered lap as emotions raced across his face. She silently strode over to her chair by his bed and he made no indication that he noticed her but Aika knew he did. He was most likely embarrassed by his moment of vulnerability in front of a near-stranger but she didn’t particularly mind it.

She sat down patiently and waited for him to speak but they just sat in silence.

“We won,” Aika informed in a subdued tone.

He grunted. His response irked her but she held her cool.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” She assured him kindly.

“See that you don’t,” he snapped at her. She held her tongue but couldn’t help but sneer at his tone. This was exactly why she didn’t work with the Magic Knights as closely. Most of them she had observed were quite rude and had a superiority complex. His attitude was only making her miss her amulet even more.

“Arian!” A familiar voice exclaimed as the tent flaps flew open. It was her Uncle. Mages and injured Magic Knights around her suddenly scrambled to attention as the Wizard King homed in on the silver-haired Captain.

“Sir,” the embarrassed Captain gritted out. He pulled out a folded piece of parchment paper as Aika and Raymond nodded at each other in acknowledgement. She would need to tell her uncle at the very least so she can make sure that he talked to someone.

“Are you alright, Arian?” The Praying Mantis Captain boomed as he walked right in after the Wizard King. He pointedly ignored him and the other Captains as they voiced their concerns as well. He tossed his blanket aside and stood up as he handed the paper to her uncle.

“My resignation, Raymond.”

“What?!” His eyes darted between Silva’s cool face and the crumpled paper. “But the war just ended! You have still got loose ends to tie up before the resignation.”

He adjusted his uniform gruffly as he said, “I’ll let the Vice Captain take care of it.” He pushed past the captains, eager to leave. “He is more than capable.” He turned and looked back one last time. “But now, I must say my goodbyes to the men that served me.”

“What's the hurry, Arian?!”

Raymond’s question was followed by silence as Silva left. Everyone watched tensely at the bizarre exchange that raised more questions than anything.

“Well,” the Blue Rose Captain began as she cleared her throat. “We did say that we were going to resign right after the battle.” Her sharp eyes turned to the Wizard King. “I will hand mine in, tonight.”

All Captains except one echoed her sentiments and Raymond’s shoulders fell as his age seemed to catch up to him.

“And I would be the last to resign,” he sighed. He looked up at Julius and everyone’s attention turned to the Wizard King to-be. “I hope you are ready, Julius.”

The young Captain stood up straighter, his eyes eager and attentive for the responsibility that will soon be thrust upon him.

“Though, I hope you do like paperwork,” Raymond laughed, knowing very well he doesn’t. “Because there’s going to be three times more work.”

All formality melted away as Julius groaned at the thought and the Captains laughed.

Aika released the breath she didn’t she realized she was holding. She just witnessed history firsthand, yet again, but it all felt so new to her. She touched her chest.

Oh.

It wasn’t newness, no. She had witnessed far too much to feel as if anything was new. It was actually the gratitude that set her heart racing.

Notes:

- In the future, Julius will get character development, because as lovely as he is as a person, he can't be a centrist as a leader if he wants to create real change. - In this fic, you'll see him be more proactive with the kingdom's problems and actually use his power outside the Magic Knights. - I'm not only planning development for his character but also his powers. As I have heavily implied throughout my fic, Julius is not human here and we will see that more in the future as the secrets unravel. - I'd personally recommend reading the wiki page on the tree of sephiroth and even better, catch up with the manga. But you don't have to, bc by the time i get to the manga spoilers part of my fic, the anime will prolly be there(fingers crossed).

#julius novachrono #black clover #demons run #black clover fanfiction #julius novachrono x oc #julius novachrono x reader #julius & aika #oc: aika tolliver #diamond kingdom #nozel silva #black clover nozel

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doing-all-write · 4 years

Text

don’t be a baby

Pairing: Billy x Reader

Summary: Reader is a nurse who’s brother falls into the Sky Walker crowd. After he gets injured, Billy takes it upon himself to look after Reader’s brother and calm Reader’s nerves as they get ready for their next job. But when the job goes awry and Reader can’t keep Billy safe, how does she cope?

Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut (only 18+ interact please!), swearing, blood and softness bc we love two idiots pining over each other but refusing to acknowledge their feelings for each other!!

A/N: I wrote this in a caffeine fueled burst of inspiration after talking to @mrhoemazzello about how much of a baby Billy would be when he gets injured and you have to patch him up and it made me so soft and shoutout to @itsabenthing for helping me flesh out this idea and for always being such a great cheerleader 💖but this bad boy is DEFINITELY going to be a two parter so keep an eye out part two coming soon!

Also the first part of this story takes place before the events of 6Underground and the job they’re planning and go on is the one in the movie just to give everyone some context.

💖💖As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

There was a thump at the window.

She ignored it. It was close to midnight and the idea that someone could be knocking on her (three stories high) window at this time seemed ludicrous. She groaned, shifting in the chair she had curled up in hours ago, reaching out for the sweet release of unconsciousness to claim her before her anxiety kept her up.

She knew Billy was most likely gone. She didn't want to admit it to herself but the relentless loop in her head was a broken record of he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone.

There was still a part of her that hoped Billy had gotten away unscathed. She had seen him in action, she knew what he was capable of and she sent out a wish that Billy would come running into her apartment like the day he came running into the hospital.

~~~

She had been working in the Emergency Room, taking over a fellow nurses night rotations in exchange for a few extra days off, when a man had limped in, blue eyes frantic, blonde hair damp and smashed to his forehead, carrying what looked like a dummy in a hoodie, both of them covered in dried blood.

She raced around the desk to them, looping the arm of the prone man around her shoulders as she helped steer them to the nearest room. The blonde kept babbling on about how the man between them had hurt himself while they wrestled the man into a bed. Once the unconscious man was laying down, she pulled back the hood obscuring his face and felt her soul leave her body.

Her brother's face was the one staring back at her.

Now is not the time. Pull it together. You know what to do. Her Nurse Brain kicked in and she shoved the blonde to the side as she hastily started taking care of her brother. Once he had been stabilized and diagnosed with nothing more than a nasty bump on the head, a broken ankle and a badly bloodied nose, she had shoved the shadow who had been following her around into the hallway, crowding him into the supply closet and demanding answers.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, careful there, love. You keep talking dirty to me like that and I'll fall in love with you."

"Why the fuck were you with my brother?"

"Taking him out on a date because he spoke to me with the same dirty mouth you both share apparently."

He was obstinate, shifting between smart ass answers and flirting as she tried to get any scrap of information from him. She finally hit her limit and spat out, "He's my fucking brother and if you don't tell me what happened, I'll assume it was you and have you thrown in jail. I don't give a fuck about you," She had jabbed a finger into his chest and he winced, "but I do give a fuck about my family."

Her Nurse Brain activated again when she saw him wince. Eyes zipping over him, assessing, she took in his bloodied face and hands. "Unzip your hoodie."

"Interesting. I'd always heard that angry sex was the best. Can't believe I'm gonna find out if that's true in this supply closet."

Rolling her eyes, she'd batted his hands away as he tried to prevent her from unzipping his hoodie. Fixing him with her if you don't let me do my fucking job I'll kill you and make it look like an accident stare, he had held his hands up in surrender.

Metallic ticks were the only noise as she pulled the zipper down, revealing the red tank top underneath.

"Wait, was this originally white?"

A huff of breath was the only answer she received before she pulled him back into the room with her brother, patching him up while she kept up a running commentary of grumbling about how he had endangered not only her own brother but also himself.

"I mean, what kind of stupid, reckless, idiot would do something like that! Jesus, you see one too many Marvel movies and think, 'hmm, that looks easy. I can do that too!' I mean honestly."

Her monologue was interrupted by the feel of a rough palm grasping her forearm. It seemed like trying to get the next words out were more painful than sustaining the injuries he had already taken that night, "I was protecting him. He works with our crew well and I told him not to come with us but he insisted. Said he needed these jobs so he could help his little sister pay off her student loans."

That had shut her up.

~~~

He didn't remember falling asleep but he stirred as he felt his arm being moved.

"It's okay, it's just me."

"I'm sorry, I don't know a 'me'. I only know the hard ass nurse who I had incredible sexual chemistry with." He heard her huff out a breath, could almost hear her eyes rolling as well. Her fingers were gentle as she made sure the IV drip in his arm was still firmly in place. She saw his lips quirk and rolled her eyes, again, "Go back to sleep. I like you more when you're unconscious."

"Great bedside manner you have there, sweetheart. You got a name?"

There was silence, then, "It's (Y/N)."

He sighed, "Well, (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. I'm Billy, and that guy in the opposite bed? That's Mark. Though I'm assuming you two already know each other since you're related and all."

"If you weren't in a hospital bed, I'd smack you."

"There's that bedside manner that keeps the patients coming back."

~~~

Billy didn't remember when he drifted off again but when he came to, the light on the other side of his eyelids was the dull yellow of the beginning rays of sunlight welcoming another morning. Eyelids fluttering open, Billy had seen her, curled up in a hospital chair right by Mark's bed, hand cupping her brother's as their chests rose and fell in tandem. Feeling like he was encroaching on a private moment, he closed his eyes again, praying that the tear he felt running down his cheek would dry before either of them would wake up.

~~~

"Hey. (Y/N). Wake up. C'mon. I've got him from here, go home and shower. Grab some food."

Her eyelids flickered open and a groan came flying out of her mouth as she slowly started rolling her neck around. As she did so, she couldn't help her eyes from straying to the bed across the room. But it was empty.

~~~

Her brother had been discharged the next day and she'd been keeping a close eye on him since. A few days later, she kicked open the door of his apartment, yelling out a greeting as she tried to balance the two large tote bags of food, games and movies she had brought over to help keep him entertained and fed as he healed up.

"I know you're a purist when it comes to Star Trek but I brought over the reboots because one, Chris Pine is very easy on the eyes and two, Star Trek is Star Trek I mean, as long as someone says 'live long and prosper' you're good, right?"

Her voice trailed off as she padded into his living room only to be met with four pairs of eyes staring back at her. Everyone, including her brother, was wearing black athletic clothes making them look a bit like a goth gymnastics team, she felt like a toddler amongst them in her over-sized sweater and leggings.

Her eyes sought out her brother's in hopes he would explain. Mark's eyes pleaded with her to be understanding and it wasn't until she heard someone clear their throat that she realized she recognized the blue eyes staring back at her,

"I'll, uh, I'll just come help you unpack those bags. Okay, love?" The steel cutting along the edge of his words gave her no time to argue as she felt Billy's large hand pressing into her lower back as he shoved her into the kitchen.

Tripping over her feet, she flung the Star Trek DVD back onto the counter as she rounded on Billy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the words were pulverized through her clenched teeth. Her hands curled into fists to prevent them from shaking. She was terrified that these people were back in her brother's life, and only a few days after he had left the hospital because of their recklessness.

"It's so lovely to see you too! I missed you and your warm bedside manner so much darling." He snarled back as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now is not the time. Last time you showed up in my life you almost got my brother killed. You better explain yourself now or I'm grabbing the broom and beating everyone in that room out the door and then breaking the broom over your head personally."

Blue eyes widened till she could see the whites all the way around them, "How are you allowed to take care of people? You should be locked up by the pigs not me." He swiveled around, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping the top off by putting the lid of the bottle against the rim of the counter and hitting it with the heel of his hand.

Peering out of the corner of his eye he saw her eyes widen, a flush building in her cheeks. She hated how that simple action had sent a flash of warmth through her.

Smirking, he turned back to her, bringing the bottle to his lips, taking a long sip as she shook herself from thinking about what other things Billy could do with his hands.

So maybe she had noticed how handsome he was after he had fallen asleep in the hospital. She was only human.

"While I'm so glad you're enjoying my brothers hospitality, maybe you could dignify me with an answer?" She knew the sarcasm dripping from every word was poisonous but she couldn't help herself. Just because she had seen dried tear tracks on Billy's face when she had woken up to check on him in the cool dawn morning and, alright, maybe she had checked the medical records in the hospital for information on him ("It's like Facebook stalking!" her voice rising as she quickly tried to close his records after her co-worker called her out on it.) and maybe her heart had twisted in on itself when she woke up the next morning and he was gone and maybe she had spent a few thousand hours thinking about him and wondering if she would ever see him again didn't mean she wanted him in her life.

Right?

Sighing, Billy leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as the bottle dangled between two long fingers, "We're planning another job and we asked your brother to do surveillance. All he'll be doing is sitting on that couch," he closed one eye, pointing towards the sofa Mark was currently residing at, "watching security cameras and making sure none of us get caught and warning us of any potential baddies around the corner. It's easy, it's harmless and you could even be sitting next to him babysitting if you're really that concerned about my safety."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped forward to start unpacking the bags, needing something to do with her hands and eyes. Looking right at Billy was like staring at the sun. She feared looking at him for too long would result in permanent damage from his eyes boring into hers, or that the fluttering in her stomach would get stronger the more she talked to him.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't seen the group Billy ran with around the city. Walking along, earbuds in, minding her own business, she'd hear a thud, look up and instead of squirrels scampering along the telephone wires, it would be people. Executing flips, yelling, jeering, she'd watch in awe while Nurse Brain would be calculating what kind of injuries they'd sustain and how bad said injuries would be if they fell, but they never did.

They looked more comfortable walking in the sky than on the ground. They were flying. Confident. So sure that there would be something there to catch them. She had started calling them "Sky Walkers."

Every time she saw them from then on, she always had an ache in her heart for the rest of the day. She craved the security and confidence they had. She'd looked down at her feet encased in Nike's, cursing them for staying ground to the tiled floor of the hospital.

"All I know is, last time my brother got mixed up with you guys, he showed up at my hospital, bloody and unconscious." Her shoulders hunched forward as anger drained from her body thinking about how frightened she had been. "Can you blame me for being scared?"

This last sentence was almost missed by Billy. But seeing her look so defeated, Billy's heartstrings tugged. Mark talked about his sister a lot. It was clear they took care of each other. He had always wondered what it would have been like to have that consistency.

Placing Tupperware on the kitchen table, the silence stretched out as Billy sized her up. Finally, her eyes rose, meeting his underneath the harsh fluorescent light. The eyes staring into hers were calculating but not cold. They weren't the eyes of a doctor, sizing up a patient and only seeing a maze of veins, arteries and organs that with the right snip or stitch could be fixed. His was a gaze that peeled back the layers of skin and bone, seeing right into the most vulnerable parts of yourself.

"You've noticed that your loans are almost entirely paid off. Haven't you." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Billy had been the one to walk Mark through the steps to help pay off her loans without it being suspicious. He had heard her on the other end of the line when she called to tell Mark how much her loans had gone down. The voice on the other end high-pitched, tinny, but the love between them so palpable he had to leave the room.

Her eyes darted down as she busied herself carrying Tupperware over to the fridge, her hair a curtain over her profile as she leaned down to place it in the fridge. "He loves you, you know. A lot. That's the only reason he took the gig." He took a sip of beer, watching her frame, way too still to not be listening, peering into the fridge but not seeing anything. "He's friends with Jean, the mastermind, out there and when he complained about how unfair it was of you to have so many loans, Jean offered him a cut of the benefits if he helped us with the job."

She didn't feel the coolness of the fridge air wafting over her, she felt nothing but enormous guilt. She was the reason he had been injured. That he was mixed up in this crowd. She was the reason he was putting himself in harms way and if he died? It would be all her fault.

Billy, chuckled to himself as she was gripped in the throes of an existential crisis, "Jean's a good guy but I think he mainly knew having a nurse in our good graces would be immeasurably helpful."

His eyes widened as she turned to face him, flecks of mascara caught in the tears moving down her face but she didn't seem to notice them streaking down. It seemed like she barely noticed him, "You have to keep an eye on him. Please. If anything happens to him-because of me-I-I don't..." her voice trailed off.

Billy crouched down, cupping her shoulders as he pressed his forehead into hers, "Hey. Hey, love. Love? Look at me, focus on my voice, okay?" He pulled back so he could look into both of her eyes. With enormous effort she pulled herself back to this moment, in her brothers kitchen, crouched on the floor with a Sky Walker. "I'll keep an eye on him. He's one of us now. We look after our own, got it? We always do." She nodded, searching his eyes for any sign of lying but there was none. Just warm, blue skies, promising her that from then on out, everything would be fine.

After their rendezvous in the kitchen, Billy had gone back to the living room to plan while she had splashed cold water on her face and pulled herself together. By the time she slunk out of the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself, everyone was leaving and Billy had his arm around a brunette girl who reeked of sexual experience and danger.

She was pretty sure she reeked of "Christmas Cookie" hand sanitizer and sexual frustration.

Billy caught her eye as he strolled out of the room, winking at her as he walked past.

Her heart caught in her throat at the action but remembered how his girlfriend was someone who flew through the air with enormous ease and she was someone who was locked on the ground.

Patching her brother up came easy to her. She wished it had been the first time she had fixed him up but that would be a lie. She went over to his apartment a few times a week. Sometimes the other Sky Walker's would be there, sometimes not. Most of the time if they were over, they spent their time planning the next big heist. Maps and blueprints covered every available surface and surveillance footage became a comforting background noise as she would prep dinner or check Mark's ankle and help him do physical therapy.

Sometimes it would just be Jean hanging out, playing video games with Mark. The first dinner he joined them for, she found she could barely look at him. The resentment towards him still a solid rock in her stomach.

A few meals later, Jean gently tugged her into the living room after she had gotten Mark set up in bed, "Alright. I know why you won't look at me. Let me have it."

He had sat on the couch for over an hour, hands folded in his lap, nodding as she ripped him a new one, getting out all of her fear and anger. Once she had run out of steam and was standing in front of him, he had taken her hands in his, making the same promise Billy had. That Mark was one of their own now. He would do everything he could to take care of him. The eyes peering back up at her were full of nothing but sincerity.

Glancing down, she sniffled, peering at their hands intertwined, "You have questionable tattoos." Jean barked out a laugh, "You think mine are bad? You should see some of Billy's."

From then on, she looked forward to having the Sky Walker's around. Whenever she entered Mark's apartment in the weeks leading up to the mission, her heart would speed up in anticipation.

Sometimes it would come crashing to the ground when she saw no sign of Billy. Other times, she was positive individuals could see her heart beating through her shirt when her eyes caught his from across the room.

The only downer was, if Billy was there, that usually meant his girlfriend, Cassandra, was there as well.

She had tried, a valiant effort in her opinion, to make nice with her. Most of the time, they were the only girls around. Working to find common ground with Cassandra was proving to be a difficult task, mainly because Cassandra would fix her with a blank stare until she slunk back into the kitchen to restock Mark's fridge.

The last straw for her had been when she had walked into Mark's apartment, yelling hello only to look up and see Cassandra fixing her with a blank stare and sharpening a knife

She quickly found that anyone who carried their own knife sharpening kit was someone she didn't particularly trust. It made her nervous then, that Billy did so much.

But she didn't want to interfere. She didn't want to think about all the lethal ways Cassandra could injure her with that blade if she found out she had meddled in her relationship.

When Billy was there, she could hardly stop the grin that threatened to split her face as she busied herself in the kitchen making food for everyone, jumping every time someone came into the kitchen, waiting for Billy to come in under the guise of getting a beverage but always stopping to chat with her.

Those stolen minutes in the kitchen with Billy were quickly becoming her favorite times.

She hadn't meant to develop a crush on Billy, but, how could she not? Other than the physical reasons, (she had once seen him take his shirt off to try on a new one and she almost dropped a whole bowl of soup into Mark's lap) he was genuine. Ever since he had looked into her eyes and promised to take care of her brother, he had kept that promise.

When plans would change, he'd come into the kitchen and update her. He'd tell her all the different contingency plans they had. And while she knew her brother wasn't going on this mission, she still felt a sense of peace wash over her as he walked her through the plan.

There was one night she asked him, "How did you even get into the Sky Walker stuff?" Coughing on the sip of beer he'd just downed, he made a choking noise, "The what stuff?"

Blushing, she realized she had let slip the private name she had called them ever since she first saw them leaping through the sky, "Umm, Sky Walkers? It's dumb, I know, but I saw you guys months ago leaping over buildings and wires and to me, from the ground, it was like you were walking on the sky, like you had mastered the force and the elements and I've called you that ever since..." her voice trailed off as Billy sat down next to her.

Laying his arms on the table, a smirk played across his lips, "Well, now that I know you're a huge Star Wars nerd, you're even cuter." his eyes dancing with mirth.

Her heart sank at that. She knew Billy didn't feel the same way about her (why would he when he had Cassandra slinking around out there waiting out for him to join her in the sky) but her heart still leaped at the knowledge that he thought she was cute.

His eyes fixed on an unseen spot as he mulled the name over, "I gotta say, I like the name Sky Walkers. Might bring that up to the whole team. Give you full credit and trademark rights of course." He winked and she giggled as she pulled her mug of tea closer.

"Why don't you join us in the living room? You're always welcome. And I have insider intel that when Jean's over, you two hang out like you're best friends. So why don't you want to hang out with me?" He made an exaggerated pouty face at her as she struggled to not lean over and bite his exposed bottom lip.

"Because you annoy me" she said primly as she lifted her mug to her mouth, then before she could stop herself, "and I don't think your girlfriend likes me very much."

The tea was scalding but she forced herself to take a long sip so she wouldn't have to look at Billy's face.

Billy sat there, studying her, she seemed so out of place with the dark clothes that were rotating in and out of Mark's place. They'd all be caught up in planning, then she'd come bursting into the apartment and it was like she was bringing sunshine in with her.

She painted her nails with pink sparkles, she watched romantic comedies, she told him about the little kids she played with in the hospital on her rounds, she laughed easily, she engaged with the other members of the crew, pulling them into her warmth, her goodness. She had patched all of them up at one time or another. The more she got to know the whole crew, the more she relaxed and the more she relaxed, the more Billy found sunshine spilling through her cracks and coaxing him towards her warmth.

But then, Cassandra would lazily lift an eyebrow at him, nod her head and he'd leave with her. He'd known Cassandra since he joined the Sky Walkers. They'd just recently started...well...he wouldn't call it "dating" so much as he and Cassandra would do a job together and then have mind blowing sex after when adrenaline made them both want to explode out of their skins.

He was starting to realize though that he and Cassandra didn't...talk. Not like how Billy talked to (Y/N).

He laid out his hands on the table, looking at his fingers. They were calloused, rough, covered in tattoos. Her hands were soft despite having to wash them a million times a day. ("I use lotion every day, multiple times a day, how do you not own lotion Billy?" He had walked into Mark's apartment the next day only to be met with a bottle of Bath and Body Works hand lotion being thrown at him by Mark. His heart had squeezed in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.) and her nails were adorned with pink sparkles. His own nails were busted and, he was pretty sure, had dried blood under them.

He had no business thinking the butterflies that erupted in his stomach every time she smiled at him meant anything more than she was cute and he liked cute women. Never mind that if she said Cassandra didn't like her he was on the verge of saying he'd dump her.

"Yeah, well. Cassandra doesn't like too many people. I wouldn't worry about it too much." He slapped his hands on the table pushing himself up. Lifting her eyes from her mug she watched him retreat back into the living room, the muscles of his back moving and shifting as he made his way back to the Sky Walkers, slipping easily onto the arm of the chair Cassandra was lazing in.

She really hated how good they looked next to each other.

She finished her tea, listening to them finalizing plans and making arrangements for the job, which would happen the day after next.

She had been hoping she'd have a shift scheduled at the hospital but no such luck.

Sighing, she stood up to rinse her mug out. In less than 48 hours she would be back here, sitting with Mark, trying to keep herself occupied and to not care too much that Billy was out there and she couldn't do anything to keep him safe.

~~~

The job went awry so quickly.

She didn't know what to make of it. One minute she had been sitting on Mark's sofa, curled up with a book as Mark sat at his desk, surrounded by monitors. Listening to him call out commands, chuckle softly at jokes, the sharp tap of keys as he disconnected security cameras or diverted them away from where the Sky Walkers were prowling.

For a while, she had been standing behind him, watching all of this happen as the group slipped through the halls of a lavish hotel. Tapping Mark's shoulder, in an over exaggerated whisper, she told him to tell the team that she said good luck and that if any of them got injured she "wouldn't patch them up because then they wouldn't learn anything."

Mark rolled his eyes and obliged, reaching a hand down to squeeze (Y/N)'s in a reassuring gesture.

Through Mark's headset, she heard the team giving their thanks, promising her that this job would do away with the rest of her loans and they'd be back to her before she knew it. Billy had looked dead set into the nearest security camera and winked as he promised he'd come back in one piece.

A gasp flew form her parted lips as her brother cleared his throat, reminding Billy to get his ass moving and to stop flirting with his sister.

Then, shit hit the fan.

It started with her hearing Billy's roughly accented voice piercing through Mark's headphones, yelling about the jewels being fakes.

Mark talked him through it, as Jean yelled back at Billy which is when Mark started yelling.

That's when she had heard gunshots.

Everything was a blur after that. She ran to the monitors and thought she was looking at a video game. There were so many men with guns running towards where the Sky Walkers were she assumed it was an army of some sort. She saw the flash of guns discharging and people she knew, people she had come to love, fall to the ground where she hoped like hell they would get back up again.

Part of her wanted to call her hospital, pull some strings and help as many of them as she could but Mark had pulled her into his chest, telling her it was no use.

In the confusion and mayhem she thought she had seen Billy, necklace clamped firmly between his teeth, jumping through a window but she couldn't be sure.

So, she and Mark had to sit and wait. Till Jean came back.

Just Jean.

He explained what had happened as he and Mark sat at the kitchen table, nursing a bottle of whiskey. She had stayed for one drink but the grief didn't feel like one she could share in.

She finally left, as she walked away, each step thudded to the ground while the only refrain that carried her home was billybillybillybillybillybillybilly. It wasn't until she found herself standing outside of her front door that she realized her body had carried her home while her thoughts had been in the sky.

Her body felt heavier, though she knew that a part of her heart had died in Mark's apartment that night and she wasn't sure if it would ever be whole again.

Her body was on autopilot as she stepped into the shower but each drop of water hitting her back felt like a knife.

She knew Cassandra and the rest of the team were there to help him. No matter how she felt about Cassandra personally, she knew she was part of the team. They were there for back up but so many people were in the fray.

So many people gone.

The water had gone cold by the time she stepped out of the shower. Not that she could feel it anyway.

Braiding her hair, she settled down on the chair by her window. It overlooked the fire escape she would lounge on with a glass of wine on nice summer nights.

Tonight it was empty, utilitarian. Only reminding her of how many Billy had fallen through as he tried to get away.

She leaned her head against the window, feeling the glass pushing back against her skull. Easing the dull ache that throbbed within as she closed her eyes.

~~~

That's where she had been when she heard the first thump.

Sleep had been within her grasp when she heard the second thump.

Groggily reaching into her sweatpants pocket, she pulled her phone out and saw it was 3:14 am.

There were no texts or calls from Mark.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose, wondering if it was her neighbors making that noise.

The third thump rattled her window causing her to jolt out of her chair.

Slowly, she reached her hand forward, nudging the blinds back, letting her eyes adjust to the nighttime as the lights from street lamps below worked to permeate the darkness that covered the world. That's when she saw the dark lump of something on her fire escape.

Squinting her eyes, her first thought was, why would someone throw their garbage bag onto my fire escape?

Flicking on the lamp she had by the window, it cast an uneven glow over the lump revealing dark clothes and athletics shoes spattered with blood.

The figure raised its head and time slowed down in those moments. The wan light drifting up from below barely illuminated the eyes staring back at her but she'd know the color anywhere. Those blue eyes, the color of her sky, was the only way she knew it was Billy.

The rest of him resembled a man who had scrabbled his way back from hell. His face was covered in scraps and tears. His visage and hands covered with dried blood. There was a wound on his neck that was slowly leaking blood but had started to congeal into a nasty mess.

His hair was matted to his head. His right eye was ringed in the blues and blacks of the beginnings of a nasty black eye. Sweat shined on his face as he blearily took in her face. He did his best to fight the smile breaking over his lips but he was so grateful to see her he barely noticed when his lips cracked even more.

As she opened the window she heard someone panting "thank god thank god thank god" and it took her a minute to realize that the prayer was falling from her lips. She bundled Billy into her apartment, setting him down on the chair by the window, still warm from her body.

She locked the window, drawing her curtains closed and rushed over to the front door, double checking it had been locked as well. For extra security she pushed one of her kitchen chairs underneath the door knob.

Hearing a snort she turned, "You watch too many bad gangster movies as a kid?"

Fighting against the lump in her throat, her voice came out thick as she tried to match his snark, "Yeah, well. You'll thank me later when the bad guys are stopped by my Ikea chair."

He heaved out a sigh that she supposed was as close as he could get to a laugh in his state. Sinking deeper into the chair, hissing as he finally allowed his body to relax. Nurse Brain kicked in as she took stock of his body, where he was holding tension, where he was avoiding putting pressure, assessing how old the cuts were. After a quick run down, she raced to her freezer.

Filling her arms with every bag of frozen veggies she had, she quickly wrapped them in paper towels, briskly walking back over to Billy's form. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, listened to the rattle of every intake, so grateful for each shuttery breath.

The grateful feeling was quickly overcome by anger. This asshole.

This was the second time he had shown up to throw himself at her mercy in a horrific state. She almost wished he were dead. She felt her knees shake, betraying how grateful she was that he was alive and in her apartment.

Instead of telling him all that though, she slapped a bag of frozen peas on his eye.

Yelping, his body curled inward as his hand reached up to catch the bag, pressing the peas back into place, "What the fuck? These are bloody freezing. I barely make it out alive and you're trying to kill me with frost bite from," he pulled the bag back squinting at it, "frozen peas?"

"Oh I'm so sorry that the frozen veggies I slapped on your busted face so you don't swell up like a fucking balloon aren't to your liking. My sincerest apologizes your majesty." She hissed out as she slapped another bag on his side as he let out a grunt.

He pressed a hand to the bag against his side as she mumbled, her fingers dancing over his form as she poked and prodded, trying to feel what the damage was, what she could do for him here and if he needed to get to a hospital.

"Couldn't make this experience a little more pleasant could ya?" He didn't mean to be a dick but in his defense, he had had a hell of a day. The job didn't go at all like they planned, he'd lost friends, Cassandra turned out to be a backstabbing thief, he didn't get the necklace, he'd fallen from the top of a building and then, to really just make the day fucking wild, when he'd come too, some weirdo had offered him the strangest proposition he'd ever heard after pretending he was going to kill Billy.

So, yeah. He was a little grumpy.

"You're lucky I even let your sorry ass into my apartment. How do you even know where I live anyway?"

"I've been having you followed by my top men."

"You asked Mark didn't you."

"Fuck."

Her lips quirked up for a second as she finished rotating his foot around checking for any swelling or broken bones. Standing up she declared, "You don't have anything seriously wrong or broken on you which is a fucking miracle. Just some bad scraps that I can take care of here." She made her way to the hall closet where she kept a first aid kit and other medical accessories. Ever since Mark sliced his hand open one Thanksgiving which had been dubbed the "Bloodiest Thanksgiving Since The Pilgrims Landed" she figured she'd better be stocked.

Billy sank lower into the chair. Leaning his head back he let out a sigh, hearing (Y/N) mumbling to herself, rattling around, he could almost pretend that he had come over under normal circumstances.

Hearing the soft thud of her footfalls, he cracked an eye open as she pulled a stool closer to his face. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she started pouring something on a cotton ball, "If you thought the frozen peas were bad you're really gonna hate this."

"What could be worse than-" his sentence was cut off by a strangled cry as she pressed the cotton ball onto the scrap by his eye. Slamming his fists on the arms of the chair, he felt his body seize up as he fought to keep control, "Fucking hell (Y/N). Seriously, they should revoke your nurses license."

"You keep disrespecting me like that and I'm just going to dump this whole bottle on you." She snapped at him. Billy pried his eyes open as he took deep breaths. He turned his head to face her, opening his mouth to fire off another comment when he glanced down at her hands and stopped.

She was getting more of the disinfectant on the floor and her legs than she was getting on the cotton ball held in her hand. Her voice managed to be strong and sure but her hands told a different story. One of anxiety, one of worry, one of relief.

"Were you worried about me baby?" His voice was so soft that for a second she wondered if someone else had entered her apartment. Locking eyes with him, she thought about how just hours before, she had been certain she would never see his face again.

Never joke with him again, talk to him, share a quiet moment with him, never learn everything about him, never sit with him at their own kitchen table one day.

She wanted that. She wanted hours and days and months and years of kitchen table talks with Billy. Feeling the relief at having him back with her, she didn't even think about her next actions.

She leaned forward and kissed him...only to pull back immediately, "Oh my god I'm such an idiot. Your lip is so busted, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have done that, that was so dumb and what if I had hurt you even more? That would have been terrible-"

Billy's hand reached up, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into him. Her lips were soft and he bet a hundred bucks that she used chapstick every day. He knew his lips were chapped, cracked and probably coated in dried blood but he didn't care. Feeling her pressed against him helped take away the fear he had been trying to tamp down ever since the maniac in the garage had pretended to kill him.

Finally pulling back he let out a shaky laugh, "Were you really that worried I wouldn't come back to you, love?"

"No, I was worried that you wouldn't help me pay off my loans. Fuck your safety, I needed money." She was trying to get them back to their usual banter but the big gulps of air she was taking betrayed how she was really feeling.

"You were worried about me. You wanted me to be safe and come back to you in one piece. Don't deny it." The smugness of his voice made her smile as she pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered in his ear, "You ever tell anyone I said this and I'll deny it but, yes."

She pulled away, placing the cotton balls and bottle on the floor, giving herself some time to collect herself as Billy reached his hands toward her, grabbing her own and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her hands, sending sparks up her arms right into her heart.

Her heart ached for both of them. They both had lost so much today but they were lucky enough to be able to come back to each other. Billy heaved a sigh and looked up at her, "You were right."

"I usually am but what specifically was I right about in this instance?"

"You're a giant pain in my ass. About Cassandra. She wasn't trustworthy. Left me hanging off the edge of a building, stole the necklace and left the rest of the team behind," he brushed a piece of her hair out of the way, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, "should have listened to you."

Blushing, she leaned her cheek into Billy's palm, "Hmm, I could get used to hearing you tell me that." Billy chuckled as she straightened up and fixed him with a glare, "You just have to keep promising me you're going to come back to me in one piece."

Billy's eyes darkened, shifting in the chair as he remembered the deal the man in the room had proposed to him. Being able to go completely off the grid. Everything wiped clean. He would be a ghost.

But being in (Y/N)'s apartment, holding her hands in his, having her smile, kiss and hold him...he wondered if he had made the right decision.

"I'll do my best, darling." He muttered, purposefully not saying promise because he knew, some day soon, he would break that promise and he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself knowing he had broken her trust.

Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she stroked the side of his face with her thumb. Sniffing she shook her head slightly, "Alright. Quit distracting me, I need to finish patching you up."

He chuckled, "Would it kill you to be nice to me? I mean, we just had an incredibly tender moment and I did have a pretty rough day..." his voice trailed off as he widened his eyes in an attempt to gain sympathy. She scoffed as she grabbed the cotton balls and disinfectant again.

"I suppose falling from the top of a building would kind of ruin your day. Now hold still. And don't be a baby." She dabbed the soaked cotton ball on the scrap on his neck, intertwining her fingers with his as he hissed out a breath. Squeezing his fingers, she murmured apologizes and encouragement, "I'm sorry my love, it's okay. Breathe. You're doing great."

After slapping some band-aids on the worst of the cuts ("What, no Spiderman Band-Aids?") she helped him to the shower, leaving him to wash off the day as she went to her room to find some sweats for him. Luckily, she had nicked plenty of Mark's sweatpants over the years so she laid those and a shirt out for Billy to find when he came into the room from his shower.

Hearing the door open, she looked up only to be met by a shirtless Billy, hair slicked back, chest damp, towel riding low on his hips. She didn't mean for the sharp intake of breath to be so audible but it was worth it when it earned her a smirk from Billy as he crossed over to her.

"Even beat up all to hell, still not a terrible sight, huh?"

Swallowing thickly she just nodded her head in agreement. Not trusting herself to speak she quickly turned and grabbed the clothes she laid out, shoved them into his arms and left, the sound of Billy chuckling following her out into the living room.

Settling onto her couch she fiddled with the end of her braid, contemplating why she had seen anguish flash through Billy's eyes when she made him promise to come back to her in one piece. She had definitely noticed the lack of the word "promise" when Billy answered her request.

The timeline of what happened since he fell didn't make much sense either. If Billy had fallen from the building, then where had he been for so long? There was no way somebody would have ignored a body laying unconscious in the street, especially with cops swarming the building.

"Baby? Hey. I can sleep on the couch. I don't mind."

Jolting out of her thoughts, she blinked as she came back to the present moment, Billy standing over her, "No! You shouldn't be sleeping on a couch. You can sleep in my bed."

"I've been waiting for an invitation to your bed for a long time baby." She flushed as she pushed herself off the couch. Grabbing Billy's hand, they walked back to her bedroom. Settling themselves under the covers she was gripped by a sudden wave of anxiety, should she try to cuddle with him? Would he want space now? Did she want to give him space? He was the one sharing her bed.

The anxiety melted away when she heard a voice in her ear, "Come here, love. I won't bite. Unless you're into that." She giggled she turned her body to face his, nuzzling her face into his chest, breathing in the smell of him as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head.

Stroking her back, they drifted off to sleep. Their breathe synching up as they finally felt safe from the world as they created their own little one in each others arms.

The light streaming into her apartment caused her to stir. Stretching her body out she almost forgot that she had shared a bed with Billy last night. When she remembered, she was gripped with panic when she realized he was no longer there. Leaping from the bed, she raced into her living room, making sure that the door hadn't been busted down and Billy had been taken while she'd been sleeping. She knew it was illogical or she'd have to be the most sound sleeper on the planet but she still exhaled a breath when she saw her door was still locked and the chair underneath it still in place.

"Gotta say, I did sleep better knowing that we were protected by your highly sophisticated security system." She turned at the sound of his deep voice, he was standing at her stove, cooking eggs as he smiled at her, "Did you really think I'd leave you like I did the first time we met?"

Shaking her head she went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, exhaling as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, using his other arm to keep stirring the eggs. "Don't scare me like that. I thought you got taken and I'm not Liam Neeson. I have no skills to use to find you." His chest rumbled with laughter, "Well, Liam Neeson isn't as pretty as you but you're crafty. I'd trust you to find me."

Placing a kiss onto his chest, she giggled, "Do you want coffee?" he nodded, "Also, how are you feeling today?"

"Sore. Like I fell from the top of a building and landed on concrete."

"Huh. Interesting. Did you do anything out of the ordinary yesterday?" Faux innocence lacing her voice as she measured out coffee grounds.

"Yeah. I fell from the top of a building and landed on concrete." Was Billy's deadpan response which had her cracking up which made Billy laugh at how hard she was laughing.

They finally pulled themselves together and stared at each other, him smiling, her hiccuping as she wiped at her eyes, "We're some pretty sick fucks for laughing at something like that, huh?"

He shrugged, "Probably. But it feels good to laugh. Especially with you."

After breakfast had been cleared away, Billy had stretched out on the couch, more bags of frozen peas on his various injuries. She came out of the kitchen, taking a moment to enjoy the peace before she broached the inevitable, "So, we should probably see Mark and Jean at some point. They're going to want to know you're okay."

Billy grunted in agreement, tipping his head back to look at her, "Yeah. That's not a bad idea. They're going to be pissed I came to you first before them though."

"I don't think so. I think they're just going to be relieved that you're alive. Plus, I am a nurse. It'd make sense to come to me and not those two chuckle fucks." She padded over to the couch, standing over him. "If you had gone to them first they would have just brought you to me anyway."

"That's true." He gazed up at her before grabbing her hands and tugging her down. Resisting, she giggled, "I don't want to fall on top of you and hurt you more, but I'll lie down next to you if you want."

He nodded eagerly, shifting his body over on the couch to make room for her, she curled up against him. Their legs intertwining as she splayed a hand over his chest, the rise and fall of his chest a balm to her anxiety and helping root her to him.

Inhaling deeply, then instantly regretting it at how it caused his ribcage to feel like it might crack, Billy felt more content here than he ever had in his entire life. He wanted to capture this feeling, bottle it, find a way to make it permanent. Make it stick so he wouldn't have to do what he knew was coming.

Sighing, (Y/N) snuggled closer, and his heart broke at how cruel he was being, how selfish. But he couldn't help it. He had asked for 24 hours and by god if he wouldn't make the most of them.

"Hey." he murmured into her hair, she made a noise in the back of her throat that made his heart skip a beat. He brought two fingers to her chin, tilting her head back so she'd be forced to look at him. A slow grin traveled across her lips as he drank in her face, memorizing every part of it so he'd never forget. He had done it so many times in Mark's apartment in shitty lighting that in good lighting, it was like seeing your favorite painting in person instead of through a computer screen.

Leaning down, he brought his lips to hers. Cupping his cheek with her hand, she kissed him back, relishing in how good it felt to be able to do this instead of just imagining it. Pulling back she smiled, resting her forehead against his.

"What is it, baby?"

"It just...you have no idea how long I've wanted this. And to finally be able to do it...I don't know. It feels really good to have you here, with me. Like this." Widening her eyes she pulled back, "Not like, you being injured but like being with you in this, way." Her voice trailing off when she became bashful at how vulnerable she had just been.

The wave of love, adoration and warmth he felt for her crested over him, causing his eyes to fall closed to keep the tears at bay. He didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve her. But, fuck, he would make the most of this time with her and make sure she knew how much he loved her.

Tilting his head back down, he locked their lips together. She moved her lips against his, memorizing their curves, their slopes, how they fit together. Her hand cupped his cheek, being mindful of his black eye and the various scraps covering the planes of it.

Feeling her hands caress his face with care, Billy became overcome. He was upset, guilt-ridden and worried he had made the wrong decision. Fighting to keep himself in the moment, he deepened the kiss, gripping her waist with an intensity that startled her. She jolted forward, causing Billy to groan when her heat made contact with the bulge that was growing larger by the second.

"Damn baby, we've only been kissing for a minute, quit trying to get into my pants already."

"You wish I was trying to get into your pants." her lips brushed against his with every other word and she could feel him smiling. He nipped at her bottom lip, causing her to gasp which allowed him ample time to connect their lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Their hands drifting up and down their sides, exploring as they got more comfortable with each others forms.

Dancing her fingers down his arms, she felt the muscles clenching and unclenching as his hand found her hip and squeezed causing her to moan involuntarily. Smirking, he ran his hand up and over the rise of her hip, trailing his fingers down into the dip of her waist. She snuggled closer to Billy, breathing in coffee, disinfectant and the unmistakable scent that was Billy.

Draping his arm over her waist, he pulled her even closer to him. Feeling his hardening length in his sweatpants she tested the waters by circling her hips against him. Causing a moan to erupt from his mouth and throw his head back in ecstasy.

"Baby, what's the professional nurses opinion of having sex when someone's injured? Asking for myself because if I don't have sex with you tonight I just may toss myself off another building."

Giggling, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead so she could look in his eyes, "In a nurses opinion? Probably not. But in (Y/N)'s personal opinion? Who gives a shit I've wanted to fuck you since the first day I saw you."

Locking his eyes onto hers, her breath hitched in her throat at the intensity of his gaze. His normally sky blue eyes were the color before a storm and his hand was locked onto her hip with a strength that she couldn't wait to explore later.

"Then get up here, baby, and fuck me how you've always wanted to."

Swinging her leg over, she found herself straddling Billy, placing her hands on his chest, she felt the large planes of his chest expanding as he took a shaky breath in, his eyes glassy. Flicking her hair back she leaned forward to kiss him deeply, "What baby?"

Shaking his head he cleared his throat, "Nothing. Just, dammit baby. You look like a goddess."

Blushing she bent down to nip at his throat, causing him to buck his hips up, causing his hard length to rub against her clothed cunt causing them both to dissolve into moans. Pushing herself up, she started rocking her hips teasingly along his cock.

Whining in the back of his throat he begged, "Please, love, I don't care, just fuck me. Please."

Shocked at the control she had over this man, she ripped the t shirt she had been wearing over her head, exposing her tits and black underwear she had been wearing. Billy keened and grasped her tits, causing her to push her chest forward, the feel of his calloused palms teasing her nipples caused her eyes to roll into the back of her head.

Billy reached his hands down, shimmying his sweatpants and underwear down far enough so his cock sprang up between them, her mouth watering at how thick it was. Stroking her center through her panties with two fingers he cocked an eyebrow at her, "I can't exactly fuck you through these so they'll have to go. I don't care how sexy they are."

Laughing, she stood up on the couch, resting one hand on the wall as she shimmied the panties down her legs, kneeling back over Billy's exposed length when Billy stopped her, "Wait, hold on a second baby." He teased one finger, then another into her dripping core, pumping in and out slowly as she rocked her hips forward trying to get more of him into her.

Billy slowly dragged them out, popping his fingers into his mouth and holding eye contact with (Y/N) as he sucked his fingers clean, relishing the sweet taste of her, "Okay, baby. I think you're wet enough."

"Damn right I am." She murmured as she sank down onto his hard cock, taking his full length, resting her hands on Billy's strong chest pushing her tits together in the most delicious way Billy had ever seen. His hands found purchase on her hips as she started rocking back and forth, working his length. Feeling his cock stretching her walls in the most amazing way, she tilted her pelvis in that way she knew would have his cock nudging her g-spot, getting her closer to where she wanted to be, which was total ecstasy with Billy.

Billy's eyes screwed closed as she found her rhythm and worked his cock, trying to reach her orgasm. His whole body felt like an exposed fuse, bursting with energy and if she touched him in the right way he would combust.

"Billy, please, rub my clit..." she panted as she rocked her hips faster, Billy could feel her walls clenching as she went faster and he reached down, rubbing the sensitive nub with his calloused fingers, causing her eyes to roll into the back of her head as she chased her high, "Is that what you want baby? Yeah? You wanna come all over this cock?" Billy mumbled as she stared up at the angel fucking herself over on his cock. He almost came seeing how blissed out she was but then he rubbed a little harder on her clit and it pushed her right over the edge. She came with a strangled cry of "Billy!" and her walls clamped down as she fell forward into his chest.

"There's a girl, such a good girl. My best girl. My only girl. Oh my love, taking me so well..." Billy mumbled as he stroked her hair, "Now, let me take over." She nodded as Billy grasped her hips and started slamming his hips against hers, causing her to moan out, feeling her pussy tighten again as he brought a hand down to her ass, the sound of the sharp slap reverberating through her apartment.

Distantly, in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was good for him in his current injured state but being so close to a second orgasm left her with one thought but to cum around his cock again.

Finding a rhythm, their hips met as she pressed her lips to his, catching his moans and hoping to mute her own as they fucked each other into oblivion. All too soon, she felt the familiar catch in her stomach as her second orgasm came around, "Billy..I..I'm so close."

"I know darling, me too. Can you wait? Can you cum with me? Please baby." She nodded as Billy fucked her harder, she rocked her hips faster and then suddenly, Billy let loose a string of expletives and she chanted billy billy billy oh god over and over again like a prayer as she felt him fill her pussy with his warm cum.

After a few minutes, she pulled away from his sweaty chest, pushing her hair behind her ears as she grinned down at him. Grinning back up at her, he tickled her waist, "Normally I can last longer but that sex has been building up for several months."

Throwing her head back she let out a laugh, "Don't worry. I don't plan on stopping having sex with you anytime soon. We have all the time in the world to build up a tolerance to each other."

A dark look washed over Billy's face as he contemplated how little time they had but instead of answering, he pulled her down into another kiss, "Let's just focus on today, love."

~~~

They spent the rest of the day entwined on the couch, mixing it up between lazy make out sessions, sex and her standing up to get the door when the delivery person rang the door to drop off food and beer.

She had asked if Billy wanted her to text Mark and Jean but he just told her he would deal with it soon. So she didn't push it. She knew she was being selfish but she wanted to keep living in this world that consisted of her, Billy and the pizza they ordered alive for as long as she could.

Unfortunately, it ended all too soon as all good things are wont to do. Soon enough, Billy was pulling on his shoes, as it grew dark out, she had been getting comfortable when he knelt down next to the bed. "Listen, love. I need to drop off something to Mark and Jean. Don't wait up for me." He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead as she lifted her head up to meet him halfway.

"It's late babe, are you sure they'll still be up?" He fixed her with an incredulous look, "It's Mark and Jean. Of course they're still awake." She shrugged as she considered who they were talking about and conceded defeat. "Just come back to me in one piece okay? If you want," she hastily added as she realized he may want to go back to his own home "It's an open invitation. I'm sure you want to go home."

He smiled at her with melancholy in his eyes as he pressed a kiss to one cheek, "With you?" then a second kiss to her other cheek "I'm always home" Biting her lip to contain the smile threatening to break her face in two, Billy decided he had never seen a more beautiful woman and wanted to alway think of her like this.

~~~

She woke the next morning to 25 missed calls from Mark and 33 from Jean. Blearily, she called Mark. Once he picked up and started rambling, she hung up and stared straight up at the ceiling.

It wasn't until Mark came to get her after not hearing from her for hours did she register how damp her cheeks had become. She was numb. Time didn't mean anything, nothing meant anything anymore.

Billy was dead.

He had broken his promise.

~~~

Standing at the edge of a gaping hole in the world, she contemplated throwing herself into it along with the empty casket they'd be burying. She barely registered the low rumbles of a priest talking but not really hearing anything. Billy had gone to Mark and Jean, told them he needed to run a quick errand and gone back to the hotel they had just robbed from. He had been running along the roof, where it overlooked the rocky ledge of the ocean. He had jumped, thinking there was a platform there but there hadn't been. There was Billy, the air and the jagged rocks along the coast the only thing to greet him.

The coast guard searched for hours but had found no body. Just the black rubber bracelet he always wore around his wrist.

Twirling the bracelet between her fingers now, she decided that since the casket was empty, there was no point.

She had been numb since she got the news. Not moving from her couch unless Mark or Jean came to propel her into the shower, make her eat some food. but she really didn't see a point in doing anything anymore.

He had promised.

And now he was gone. So what did it matter what she did? People left, they broke promises, and words and promises didn't mean anything to anyone she guessed. She may as well do anything she wanted.

Lifting her head she saw Mark, Jean and two women who had introduced themselves as Billy's mother and sister. Mark had introduced her as Billy's girlfriend and they murmured how much Billy talked about her but it was all too little too late.

She didn't want to know anyone else other than Billy but that had been ripped from her. Standing at the edge of his grave she felt Mark and Jean grasping her shoulders, telling her they were going to give her some space. So it was just the three of them and as his sister looked at her, she smiled a thin smile, "You're just as pretty as he said you were."

She fell to her knees. It was all too much, She couldn't support herself without Billy. What did it matter? All her skills, all her knowledge about keeping people safe when she couldn't even save the person that mattered most.

~~~

"Oof, there are three certified hotties just weeping over your grave dude. How doe that feel?"

Billy's stomach clenched as he saw (Y/N) fall to her knees at his grave, watching his mother and sister race around to help her. It wasn't until One clapped a hand on his shoulder did he register that he had involuntarily moved forward to help her.

"Nuh-uh bro. Not anymore. Don't even think about doing a Christmas Carol Ghosts of Christmas Past bullshit. I spent way too much money for you to blow this whole operation."

Billy nodded mutely. Keeping an eye on the women around his grave he swallowed around the lump that had been stuck in his throat since he had left (Y/N)'s apartment.

What One had suggested to him had been too good to pass up. And when One had promised, in writing, that (Y/N) would always be kept safe and comfortable, it was a no brainer. And he knew, in his heart of hearts, that she deserved someone better, more stable than him. Not some Sky Walker who always had his head in the clouds.

Who one day may not come back to her.

Taking a deep breath he turned his back on the trio that were surrounding his grave. Sending up a prayer, he hoped she would be safe and would get over him soon. Because he knew he would never get over her for the rest of his short, harrowing life.

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consumedkings-archive · 4 years

Text

ancient names, pt. viii

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt viii: the space between us

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~6.9k (????)

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Language, some “light” religious blasphemy (it’s Far Cry 5). Strong canon deviance from here on out. Some more PTSD symptoms/descriptions, though mild.

Notes: This chapter is like, nearly 2k longer than most others and folks, we got it all: identity crisis, PTSD symptoms, the irritability of being surrounded by Seed brothers, the irritability of perhaps not having eaten or had any real water for like two days, Jacob being a shithead, the "sees love interest in x state of undress" trope, YOU NAME IT. When does the fun stop?? We'll never know. tl;dr Elliot pops off like 6 times and honestly, who’s surprised anymore.

I hope you guys enjoy, it feels a bit like this chapter got away from me and not a lot of exciting stuff happens but it did feel important to have this lull of a chapter between all the action and drama. Thank you, as always, to my angel @starcrier the best proof-reader a girl could ask for an also a remarkably thoughtful and sweet friend who for some reasons decides to bless me with her presence to this day.

Thank you so much to everyone who comments, reads, reblogs, likes--all of it is always cherished by me, and it really does inspire me to keep going. <3

tagging my lover my life my shawty my wife @empirics bc she still wanna go here even when i babble at her nonstop

John had hoped that Elliot would go to sleep, but he knew the chances of that happening were slim to none and he wasn’t surprised when, out of what he could only assume was pure spite and anger, she stayed awake the entire drive to the compound. She stayed awake through John recounting what they had experienced of the cult already, what they knew about Faith; Elliot stayed oddly silent, in the way that swelled with the knowledge that she probably knew more than what she was letting on, but John didn’t push.

Jacob stuck to the side roads, the back roads, keeping them as far from the most populated areas as possible: and John could see that it drove Elliot batty, knowing they could just stop at Fall’s End. The radio’s gospel songs echoed eerily in the cab of the truck. After about five minutes of it playing—and, coincidentally, about two minutes after Elliot had smoked down the entirety of her first cigarette—she blurted out, “Can you turn that shit off?”

“Why?” Jacob asked evenly, and John passed a hand over his face tiredly as he heard Elliot take in a huge breath, as though she needed to make sure she properly had enough oxygen to spit her venom out.

As John began tiredly, “Deputy, mind yourself and close your mouth,” Elliot bulldozed him to say, “Because I’ve got a head wound that seems to get exacerbated by idiotic cultists,” their voices once again overlapping until their words strangled each other, Elliot glaring at John. He really wished she would stop looking so betrayed when he took the side of one of his brothers; it wasn’t as though she and him had ever really felt like a team , anyway.

Except for the ranch, dispatching of those Swedes in tandem. And except for when they’d been driving, and Elliot had actually looked happy for a second, even with their hands cuffed together. And except for—

Knock that shit off, John thought to himself, just in time for Joseph to say, “It seems as though your time together has made an improvement on your temperament, Deputy Honeysett.”

“What gave you that impression?” Elliot prompted, despite John’s not-so-subtle pleading look.

“Well,” Joseph continued, “we always do try to have faith , you know, especially in our brother. But considering the animalistic state you were delivered to him in, I would have expected much more poor behavior out of you.” A gentle smile tugged at his lips, an expression John could see reflected in the rearview mirror. “I like to see the impact he’s had on you.”

John couldn’t quite sort out how he felt about his brother’s words. He wanted to be proud; he wanted to think, yes, see? I’ve tamed her, the hellcat, look at her keeping her hands to herself. He wanted to, but there was a complicated feeling wound up in it, because he saw the way Joseph’s words struck Elliot, the way they collapsed the iron-clad battlements of her expression, the way they folded her up and crushed them in his proverbial fist. It was exactly what Joseph did; disarmed, unwound, pulled each tangling thread until they were so knotted all you could do was cut it out.

So yes, John felt an immediate burst of pride in his chest at Joseph’s words, and that pride was almost instantly wiped away at the look on Elliot’s face. It was as though she couldn’t stand the idea that he had made an impression on her, in any way. Disgust, he thought, fending off the insult of her abhorrence of his influence, hatred. She has always been spiteful and venomous, underneath it all.

“Just wait until you outgrow your usefulness, Seed,” Elliot managed out, her voice crackling with something violent. “You’re the only one I want to see dead before I hand you over to the government.”

Joseph rolled his window down. “I see that your manners still need some polishing, though.”

Elliot looked at John. Her gaze was hard, but he returned it nonetheless, expectantly. She asked, “Proud of yourself, are you?”

“Elliot,” John began, moderating his voice so that he didn’t sound as pleased as he felt (and of course he didn’t know why he was doing that; there was no reason he should work so hard to preserve Elliot’s feelings, and yet… ) so that she wouldn’t be right about him, “it doesn’t…”

“Shut up,” the blonde snapped. Her voice rattled, with anger and with the sick inside of her. She pressed herself back into the corner of the bench seat in the back; she looked like she wanted to melt into the truck’s frame. “I’m fucking tired of your voice.”

“Watch your mouth,” Jacob said from the front seat.

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” John interjected tartly, feeling himself scramble for something—anything—that felt like normal between them again; the normal that had happened with being forced into each other’s company. “Not until you get better. You still sound sick.”

“ You got those cigarettes for me,” Elliot quipped, vitriolic, “and what the fuck isn’t clear about shut up?”

As soon as the words left her mouth Jacob pushed on the brakes, hard, the movement slamming the back of her head against the window in the back of the truck. The blonde let out a volley of swears, her hand flying to the back of her head instantly.

Jacob said, his voice prickling with hostility, “I told you to watch your mouth.”

“Jacob—” John began, having braced himself against the driver’s seat, but he could already feel Elliot seething.

“You fuckhead ,” Elliot bit out, spiteful as ever, her fingers coming away sticky and crimson. “You absolute piece of—”

“Jacob,” Joseph murmured, “let’s not waste time on the road.”

“Elliot, stop squirming,” John insisted, his voice more urgent now. “You’re going to get blood everywhere.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it inconvenient for you that your brother reopened my fucking head wound ?”

“That isn’t what I meant,” John growled. “Stop squirming.”

His voice came out more authoritative than he had intended, wound up-tight and hard by the antagonizing nature of Elliot and Jacob’s exchange. The blonde’s jaw clenched, but she stilled; his hands went to her face, tilting her head so that he could take a look at the wound. Reopened, yes, but only just.

“Don’t move,” John said firmly. He could feel Joseph’s eyes on him, and he thought he knew what he was thinking—that once again, he had reaffirmed Joseph’s words, that he had made some kind of an impression on her, that had he told Elliot two days ago to stand still so he could look at a wound that she probably would have sunk her teeth into his arm like a wild animal.

“Didn’t grab any bandages when we were at the ranch, huh?” John asked, trying at something closer to civil.

“I wasn’t thinking particularly beyond bare necessities,” Elliot replied dryly, her voice muffled by her chin tucked against her chest. John made a noise of agreement—he hadn’t thought to grab any, either, having anticipated they’d get the fuck out and be at the compound by now—and sighed a little.

“Well, let’s rip your shirt.”

“Why aren’t we ripping your shirt?” Elliot prompted, and John blinked at her incredulously.

“Do you have any idea how much this shirt costs?”

“Oh, you pretentious little manchild —”

“Fine!”

John didn’t rip his shirt. Instead, he peeled the shirt off, shrugging out of it and folding it to press the gathering of fabric to the wound. Elliot straightened back up into a sitting position, reaching up; her fingers fluttered over John’s, almost shyly, replacing the pressure of his hand with her own so that he could pull away and let her hold it herself.

“You should have just ripped it,” Elliot said, her eyes flickering over him before she caught herself and looked away. Were John not convinced she was running a fever, he might have thought he saw her blushing. All the same, he felt the corners of his mouth tick in something close to a smile.

“It’s easier to scrub blood out than it is to stitch it back together.”

“That’s our John,” Joseph acquiesced from the front sagely. “Ever-giving.” He paused, tilting his head to peer at Elliot and John in the back, “All we ask for is a little civility, deputy. After all, it is our sister that’s been kidnapped.”

Elliot replied, “You seem very concerned about that.” And then, “By the way, they have Joey too, which wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t pass her off to this idiot,” and she jerked her thumb at John.

“If they wanted to kill Faith, they would have already,” Jacob replied, hitting the bridge to the island and flipping the cruise control on as he blithely ignored her comment about Hudson. “Since she was alive when the two of you saw her. Isn’t that right?”

Elliot muttered something of an agreement, as though Jacob were not saying the things she had already said, as though she so desperately did not want to agree with him about something that she would rather choke on her own words than say it out loud.

“We have some search parties sent out,” Jacob continued, his steely gaze sweeping across the road as he flicked the turn signal on—certainly, pure habit at this point. “To pin them down. Once we have them located, we can work on getting Faith back and wiping them out.”

The blonde beside him was quiet, now. As Jacob pulled the truck into the compound—which looked nothing short of a ghost town, now—John glanced over at her again, nursing the wound with his shirt. She looked only tired, as though she’d spent all of her energy in just this car ride alone.

Jacob put the truck into park and turned it off; as they filed out of the car, John swept his gaze over the compound; everything seemed peaceful, as if nothing were happening, a low breeze drifting over the houses and church while the early afternoon sun drenched it in a harsh, unforgiving light. Though it was quiet, the stillness of the compound unsettled him, and the knowledge that many of their followers had been tucked away in the bunkers for safekeeping made his skin crawl.

“John.” Joseph’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “Why don’t you take our dear deputy to one of the guesthouses to get settled in? There’s no reason why she can’t rest while we’re getting the radios set up to contact her...” His voice trailed off as he seemed to search for a word, and then eventually mustered up, “Friends.

“I’m not your dear anything,” Elliot said slamming the truck door behind her. Joseph’s lips quirked in a small, muted smile, his eyes beneath the yellow lenses of his glasses nearly unreadable.

“Not yet,” Joseph relented.

John's hand reached Elliot’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said, shaking the way Joseph’s pinning gaze unsettled him, just a little, like there was nothing that was happening that his brother wasn’t cataloging for later.

“Don’t touch me,” she muttered, shrugging his hand off of her but following him nonetheless. John could hear his brothers exchanging words in low voices on their way into the church, and that little sting in his chest lingered, more firmly: the idea that Joseph was pawning off responsibility to him to make him feel like he was doing something important remained.

Elliot pushed the door to a guest house open. “You really just took your whole shirt off instead of ripping a little piece, huh?” she said. It might have been her attempt at casual conversation, but John couldn’t say for sure. It was always so hard to tell what was going to trip that hairpin trigger into enemy territory again.

“It’s Versace, Elliot.”

“Oh, boo .” She pulled it away from her head. “I think you just wanted a reason to be shirtless in front of me.”

John blinked. He didn’t know what to say to that, the most friendly, nearly flirty thing Elliot Honeysett had said to him in many years—which was saying a lot, considering the last time they had spoken in a friendly manner, she’d hardly said more than a stammer of a sentence to him before Joey Hudson swept her away.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” he managed out after a moment, taking the shirt back from her as he got his mental footing back. “I saw you looking. No need to be shy about it, though—we’ve already established you find me handsome.”

Elliot scoffed, but he saw her face flood with red just before she turned away, pacing to the bathroom at the back of the house. “Found, once, years ago,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t let it inflate your ego, Seed.”

He called after her, “Too late,” and she slammed the bathroom door; the very definitive sound of the shower running echoed in the empty house, and John exhaled a small breath in relief.

As he inspected the bloodstain that had gathered on the front of the shirt, he felt a pleasant little thrill in his chest; a stain was a small price to pay for having made Elliot squirm her way out of that conversation, he supposed, and he remembered the way Joseph had said, I like to see the impact he’s had on you.

Not so wild now, John thought, are you, hellcat?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The benefits of a hot shower were never to be underestimated.

Though Elliot had gone into her shower feeling bedraggled, worn down, furious, and more than unseated—both by Joseph’s assertion that there was a yet to be had with the friendliness of their relations, but also by John’s casual confidence in her attraction to him.

She wasn’t attracted to him. John had held her under like he was going to drown her, really drown her. He’d wanted to tattoo wrath right on her chest.

Elliot’s fingers fluttered over the spot where John��s had dragged, just a day or so ago now, as he said, I think it’ll fit nicely right here, don’t you think? Maybe just over her heart. The same place dream-John had touched, the same place her skin had been burning when flower-eyed John, spilling petals from his mouth, had gripped her face in his hands.

They were getting mixed up in her head now, all of these Johns: the John she had spooned for warmth with in the forest, the John that hadn’t complained when she anchored her fingers into his arm for steadiness, the John that held each side of her face while her body and mind split, somewhere in the middle, bringing her back down before she slipped away permanently; they all wove and intermingled themselves with the others that she knew, the Johns that kidnapped her friends or kidnapped her or held her under or leered at her in a bar when she was young.

It was almost— almost —romantic, the kind of ferocious dichotomy she would have read in a book somewhere, sometime, in a place where she still had the leisure to do something like that: read a book, take a nap, browse television channels.

Almost, but not quite, because there was and could never be something romantic about John Seed.

Elliot startled out of her thoughts when someone knocked on the bathroom door, the sound echoing in the small bathroom much louder than she thought the knocks would have actually been.

“You’re not climbing through the window right now, are you?” John’s voice came through the door. Elliot quickly wiped the amusement she felt creeping into her face and ducked her head under the water, the heat of it stinging her wound in a sort of catharsis.

“If I was,” Elliot called back, “what would you do?”

“Very funny, Elliot.” And then: “I’d probably kick this door down.”

“How very caveman.”

“Well, you know—desperate times. Plus, I hear women like that kind of thing.”

She rubbed her face with both hands to stop the smile tugging at her mouth. She had to keep focused: she had to remember the way John had practically glowed, radioactive with pride at Joseph’s praise that he’d made an impact on her, that he was changing her. For the better, they thought. For them. Elliot had hardly seen John around his brothers, but the short amount of time that she had (and wasn’t drugged out of her mind) it had become very clear to her that the relationship between them wasn’t as easy to swallow as she would have thought.

But it was easy, when she was given the luxury of a hot shower that molded all of her muscles into relaxation, to feel like they were on a team. It was easy—especially when John had handled her so carefully, like his hands hadn’t inflicted pain on numerous other people, like he hadn’t carved sin after sin into flesh as a macabre brand. Easy, Elliot thought, willing herself to turn off the hot water, because she couldn’t stay in a shower forever. Easy to forget. I can’t forget what’s happened.

“Any chance you’ve got some jeans out there?” Elliot said, stepping out of the shower and finding a clean (clean?) towel hanging; she didn’t have much time to be picky, so she wrapped it around herself and squeezed some of the water out of her hair. Outside, she could hear John stomping around, fumbling through things, and once she’d gotten mostly dried off she opened the door.

“Oh,” John said, like he hadn’t been expecting her, standing just a foot away from the door and holding a collection of clothes in his arms. Jeans, it looked like, and a few shirts. His own shirt was back on, the dark bloodstain turning the navy blue nearly black on the front.

“Oh?” Elliot prompted. She held her hand out for the clothes while the other kept the towel in place.

“It’s just that you look...” He paused, and then handed her the clothes, regarding her almost warily. “You look—”

And he stopped again, and Elliot thought, well go on, spit it out, then, her eyebrows arching upward expectantly.

“Nice,” he said after a moment. As though catching himself, he amended, “Normal, I mean.”

Elliot’s expression deadpanned. “I am normal, John. You’re the one that’s part of a cult, remember?”

He squinted his eyes at her. The spell was broken; the clock had struck midnight; he was no longer enchanted with her, numerous days of grime scrubbed off of her body.

Rather than argue the logistics of his family’s venture being a cult or not, John said, “Change quick, it shouldn’t take long for them to get the radio ready.”

“Yes, boss,” Elliot replied demurely, mimicking the words he’d used when she’d told him to shut up and be a good blanket. John’s eyes flashed to her face and then away, but she didn’t spend too long trying to parse out what his expression was; she closed the door and busied herself with shimmying into the clothes, leftovers from Eden’s Gate members, it seemed. Relatively clean, too, considering she usually saw peggies in various states of disarray and neglect.

After she’d pulled the rest of her clothes on, the white shirt—clearly meant for a man—nearly swallowing her up, she kicked the old, dirty clothes out of the way and opened the door.

“Would you have really kicked the door down if I was climbing through the window?” Elliot asked, scrunching her hair. The back of her head throbbed, but in a pleasant way; the wound had been thoroughly rinsed, and though it still ached from Jacob’s foot slamming the brakes, she didn’t think it was concussive. Yet.

John leaned against the door, regarded her with a dry expression. “Why?” he asked. She opened the door from the “guest house”—it was really more a bunkhouse than anything—and shrugged.

“I hear women like that kind of thing.”

A swift, easy breeze drifted through the doorway as Elliot stepped outside, taking one moment—just one moment—to close her eyes, and breathe, and think, I’m so close, Joey, to rescuing you. I’m so close, I swear I’m on my way to you. Please, just hold out for a little longer.

“—than woman.” John’s voice rattled around in her head, and she opened her eyes looking at him over her shoulder.

“What was that?” she asked.

He sidled up behind her, his hands in his pockets, and bent just a little at the waist so he could say into her ear, “I said, it’s a good thing you’re more devil than woman,” and against the wishes of her mind, the skin of her neck prickled with goosebumps.

She scrunched her shoulder up to her ear to fend him off. “That’s right, John,” she replied evenly, “I am a devil, and don’t you forget it.”

Elliot saw movement out of the corner of her eye, her body stiffening a little before she turned her gaze and saw that it was Joseph, standing at the steps of the church.

“Children,” he called, his voice welling with some kind of emotion that Elliot couldn’t quite pin down—perhaps amusement, or something else. “Are you done? The radio is ready for you, deputy.”

“Born done with this one,” Elliot replied, feeling the small smile that had been fighting its way onto her face slip from her features. There was just something about Joseph that put her on edge; every second she spent in her presence reminded her of the way he’d looked at her, that night in the church, when he’d said, God will not let you take me.

Like she was the only person in the room. Like she was the only person that had mattered.

Elliot liked to think that she was not the kind of person that would be so easily won over by a cult—but she also knew that they looked for people like her, people with a history of trauma, people who had fewer parents than a child ought to have, people whose one functioning parent was only barely functioning and only crested the standard when they had a few drinks in them. She was exactly the kind of person that Joseph nurtured, cradled, forgave, and she thought that for a second in that church, that night, she had thought about how nice it would be to feel that. Once.

But she had a family, and people who cared about her and relied on her and would miss her. Like Joey.

With long strides, she crossed the small courtyard to the church and stopped in front of Joseph, waiting for him to move aside so that she could go in.

“Feeling better?” Joseph asked her mildly, and when he didn’t move aside she shouldered past him. “You look like one of us.”

“Peachy,” Elliot replied flatly; she purposefully ignored his last words, rinsing them away by focusing on the task at hand. The inside of the church was dim, with only the Eden’s Gate window at the back. Her stomach dropped unpleasantly; a surge of panic washed through her, and she was suddenly reminded of the feeling of Eden’s Gate members shoving past her, watching her through fringes of dark, dirty hair, and Joseph, hands outstretched, waiting.

And John, prowling in the background, ever a predator waiting for his prey.

Joseph brushed past her, walking down between the rows of seating to where Jacob had set up a table, the radio crackling as he adjusted some settings on it. Elliot pushed her way down as well, hating that her steps faltered, that Jacob’s piercing eyes caught every step that didn’t quite hit the way that she wanted it to. Behind her, she heard the easy, confident cadence of John’s steps, the door to the outside shutting.

For the first time since getting in the truck, Elliot felt like she was in the belly of the beast. If only, a voice inside of her said, if only you had known this then, instead of now.

“Well,” Jacob said, “are you going to call them or not?”

She snatched the radio out of his outstretched hand, her heart hammering in her chest. So close; she was so close. If she wanted to, she could tell Jerome and the others where she was, flush the Seeds out well and good once and for all.

But she couldn’t, because she still needed them. At least, she needed one of them, to get Joey back.

Elliot adjusted the settings on the radio to the proper channels, swallowing thickly, and hit the button on the side. Joseph lingered under the window, a few feet away, his back to her; behind her, she heard John’s steps pacing closer to her.

The radio clicked, static buzzing patiently on the end. Her mouth felt dry. “Jerome?” she asked, tentatively into the static. “Jerome, do you—read? It’s me.” And then, quickly and feeling like an idiot, “Elliot, I mean. It’s me, Elliot.”

Silence stretched on the other side for just a moment. Then, the static crackled, and a familiar voice broke over the radio, “Elliot? It’s so good to hear your voice again. Thank God, we were—” Jerome’s voice broke up a little, and then picked up, “—about you. Where are you? Did you get away from John?”

Relief immediately flooded her system, the sensation almost painful; her heart thudded painfully against her chest, and she gripped the table with her free hand to keep herself steady.

“I—” Elliot paused. Her gaze flickered to John, who now lingered to the right of her; Jacob loomed to the left, and Joseph, ever the pinnacle, ever the point of the pyramid, just in front of her. The closest to heaven.

John’s gaze weighed down on her, pinning her, so that instinctively she wanted to squirm right out of it.

“—I’m okay, don't worry about me," she said after a moment. "I'm on my way to get Joey. Jerome, I need you to listen to me."

“Tell me where you are,” Jerome insisted, his voice crackling through the radio with urgency. “We’ll help you get Hudson back. It’s been quiet, here.”

John rolled his eyes, barely veiling his contempt. Elliot shot him a look and cleared her throat, trying to ignore the way that the pastor’s words clutched and pulled at her heart. Jerome’s voice was like a balm to her nerves; she realized, quite suddenly, how much she actually missed being around people who weren’t the Seeds, or members of Eden’s Gate—someone who actually cared about her.

“Please listen to me,” she tried again. “There’s someone else here. A different group, a new—cult. They’re here and I think they’re going to wipe everyone out. I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but you need to take everyone out of Fall’s End and get them out of here, okay? Everyone, and just evacuate as fast as you can.”

“What? Elliot, what are you talking about? ” Jerome’s voice faltered for a moment, and then he said, “Please don’t try and Atlas this thing, deputy.”

Elliot pressed her hand to her forehead. When she lifted her head, Jacob’s eyes were fixed on her, and he said, “Two minutes, deputy.”

Of course, she thought, both exhausted and infuriated. This fucking Darwinian psycho wouldn’t want to give them a fighting chance. "There wasn't a fucking time limit on this radio call before."

"You're calling the people that want us dead," Jacob deadpanned. "One minute."

Elliot wanted to say that not even a full minute had passed, but she knew better. She bit down on her cheek until she tasted cooper, trying to refocus her attention.

“There’s no time, Jerome,” she insisted, talking faster now as the proverbial clock ticked down. “Take everyone from Fall’s End and leave, okay? I’m getting Joey and we’ll meet up with you a town over, or further way—just don’t stop driving. I can’t explain anymore. I have to go. Jerome?”

There was no answer on the other end for a minute; she could picture Jerome and Mary May arguing back and forth about what they needed to do for this, for her, and her heart ached a little in her chest. Finally, his voice crackled through: “I hear you, but Elliot—let one of us come and help. We’ll get you and Joey out of here.”

“Give Mary May a hug for me, okay? And get Dutch, and everyone, and get the fuck out of here.”

“Elliot.” Jerome’s voice had changed. Her hand had gone to turn the radio off, but it stilled. “Tell me you’re alright and mean it.”

It wasn’t his Resistance Business voice, anymore, and nor was it his pastor voice. It was his dad voice, firm and unrelenting, but not unkind. It welled with gentle affection.

Elliot felt her vision wobble a little. It was embarrassing, that Jerome could disarm her this far away, without seeing her or knowing what the last two days had been. She swallowed thickly and ducked her head against her chest a little when her breath shuddered in her chest.

“We’re worried about you, kid. All of us.”

“Deputy,” Jacob said, impatient, and Jerome continued, “You can tell me if it’s not okay.”

“I’m alright,” she managed out into the radio, willing the tears back away, back from where they had come from. “I’m alright, Jerome, I promise. Please get everyone out of here.”

She put the radio back down on the table and switched it off; she exhaled sharply, once, through her nose. Her chest felt tight, and her body ached, every muscle and tendon and joint in her body feeling deeply bruised. She thought, for one awful, terrible moment, that she might actually start crying right here in front of all of the men she least wanted to do that in front of.

“I guess we’ll see if they make it out,” Jacob said, his voice painstakingly casual and clipped all at once. Elliot felt something hot and sticky flare in her chest, like all of the oxygen had been sucked right out of the air around her. "And if they don't, well—probably means they weren't ever meant to."

She didn’t want to think about the Resistance not making it out; she didn’t want to think about the slow, oozing creep of the cult sidling up on them, of Ase’s fingers on their faces, lovingly planting their gutted corpses with fresh, vibrant blooms.

“Shut the fuck up,” she managed out, her voice wobbling. Jacob’s mouth curved at the corner into something like a wicked smile; he might have been infuriated by her petulance, she thought, if her voice wasn’t thick and wet with unshed tears. She straightened up, digging her nails into her palms, thinking, I could kill him right now, wrap my hands right around that big neanderthal neck and strangle the life right out of him.

But she couldn’t, even if at that moment she really wanted to, because talking to Jerome for even that short time had reminded her about what it felt like to have people around her that cared about her; it had reminded her about being around people that she trusted, that trusted her, that shared the same beliefs. That wanted to take care of her.

She had almost forgotten that, being handcuffed to John Seed for almost two days straight.

“We’ll pray for their safe departure, of course,” Joseph said. His words echoed, tinny and hollow, in her head. She blinked furiously. Elliot was only vaguely aware of John pacing back across the room and saying something to her, but she couldn’t hear what it was; not really.

I am so tired, she thought, over the sound of John talking to her. I am so tired, and I want to go home.

“When will your peggies be back?” she asked, interrupting the sound of Jacob and John blustering back and forth. Joseph paused, and then cocked his head at Jacob expectantly. She waited for one more beat and then said, louder and with more fervent impatience, “I said, when will your little cockroaches be back from finding Joey and Faith?”

Jacob replied, bitingly, “Within the next few hours. They’re going to pin down a location and get back to us.”

“Great.” Elliot turned on her heel, marching herself down the same hallway that just a little over a week ago, she had been walking down with Burke and Whitehorse. “Fuck off until then, you piece of shit.”

It felt like her lungs might burst, or her heart might beat right out of her chest, before she made it out of the stifling darkness of the church. She pushed the door open and hurried outside to take a lungful of fresh air, air unpopulated and unshared with Seed boys.

I’m just one girl. The thought was a desperate one, one that turned over and over again in her mind. That these things were just happening to her, that she had no agency in her life, that it might always be like this. Forever. I’m just one girl.

Elliot walked to the bunkhouse, pushing each step into the dirt in the hopes of feeling more grounded, each breath of air slowly bringing her back to the earth. When she made it inside, she closed the door quickly behind her and paced, rubbing her face. The bunkhouse no longer felt surprisingly clean. It only served as a reminder of where she was, where she wasn’t, where she might never go again.

She pushed her hands against her face until spiderwebs crawled behind her eyelids. They blistered, red fractals of light swimming in her non-vision. She was only a girl, and she was alone—no family and no friends nearby to help, and that was supposed to be good; if Jerome listened to her, they'd be out of Hope County within a few hours.

There was no more room for error. Fall's End evacuating meant there was no rescue party coming, in spite of her words. It meant that she was really only going to get one shot at getting in and getting out, for good. Get Joey, get Boomer, get out. Period.

The door clicked open. Footsteps echoed against the hollow wooden flooring. It was John; she could tell by the way he walked. “Elliot.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, not a how are you, but something else, something that Elliot didn’t know what he meant and or what he was saying or what he thought to gain from it. Did he ever do anything that didn't have any personal gain for him?

“John,” Elliot said, her hands pressed into her face, “can you just leave? I am so tired of hearing your voice.”

“Elliot,” John said again, “take a breath.”

“I am breathing, you fuckhead,” she snapped viciously, turning to face him—John, in his stupid fucking designer shirt, his head cocked to the side as he watched her, the venom in her voice landing but not hitting the way it should have. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be alone? Really, truly alone? Like, for fucking good, unless by some godforsaken miracle your insane brothers don’t kill me as soon as I’ve served the purpose of fetching Faith back.”

“I do," John replied angrily, "and they don’t want to—”

“Oh fuck off, John.” She raked her fingers through her hair. There was a nasty, wicked monster, crawling up from through her, fingers sliding between the slats of her ribs to get a good grip. “You should see yourself whenever Joseph says anything. You practically fall over to kiss the ground he fucking walks on, and for what? For him to give you a little pat on the head? You’d do absolutely anything he asked you to. You’re fucking pathetic.”

That hit the way she wanted to. She saw the hurt slide across John’s face, and then the anger, a power-point presentation on How To Make One Man Hate You.

“You have a lot of nerve, deputy,” John bit out (and she didn’t miss the way he no longer was using her name, like he wanted to distance himself from her), “to talk to me like that, given that you would probably be lying dead in a field with flowers coming out of your eyes without me. Not to mention that you need us to get your little friend Hudson back—”

“It’s your fucking fault!”

She felt the rasp in her throat, the claws of sickness shredding her delicate insides as her voice flexed painfully in volume. John was staring at her, and she thought, I have to stop yelling, I have to stop, this is just what they want, for me to lose control, but she couldn’t, the words welling up inside of her, wrecked and vicious, and she felt like all of the blood had fled from her hands and feet; she was ice, now, frigid and unyielding.

John’s mouth twisted, like he was shaping the words he wanted to say before he said them. He started, less heated this time, “Elliot—”

“It’s your fault,” she interrupted, clenching her fists at her sides until her hands itched and burned with the intense need for circulation. “It’s your fault—I should—I should be leaving with Fall’s End and leaving this absolute fucking nightmare behind, or—or maybe that shouldn’t be happening at all because this is my fucking home and you and your stupid family took that from me, and I fucking hate you, John Seed, John Duncan, whatever the fuck your name is, whoever the fuck you are, I don’t care and I hate you!”

He stepped forward, his hands lifted, like he was going to touch her; perhaps rest his hands on her shoulders, take her face the way he’d grown so accustomed to doing when her breathing shallowed and her eyes unfocused. But she pushed his arms out of her immediate vision, and while infuriatingly he didn’t get out of her space she still bit out, crushing the words on their way past her teeth, “Don’t fucking touch me, John,” and his hands dropped back to his sides.

She tried to ignore the strange, fleeting disappointment: as though she had been anticipating his grounding touch, as though she had wanted it, her body betraying her words and her head.

No more, she thought through the haze in her mind, no more of that.

He shifted on his feet. “You’re tired,” he said after a moment, which sounded not like the thing that he wanted to say but instead the thing that he decided was safe. “You should rest. The search parties will be back soon, and you’ll need to be at full capacity.”

Elliot stared at the bloodstain on his shirt. It felt like all of her insides had been scooped out, emptying her; her stomach twisted, both with anxiety and hunger.

“Yeah,” she replied numbly. “Alright, John.”

He turned on his heel, walking through the door to the bunkhouse and letting it swing shut behind him. The room felt colder without another human body in there; emptier, lonelier. Elliot sat herself down on the wooden floor and pushed her face into her knees.

This wasn’t supposed to be me. Her ears rang, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, a black stone falling over and over until her ribs bruised and cracked. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

She closed her eyes tight, arms looped around her knees, pressed against the wall of the bunkhouse, and willed herself to sleep.

#far cry 5 #john seed/deputy #john seed/ofc #far cry fic #ch: john seed #fic: ancient names #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #ch: elliot honeysett

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lilmajorshawty · 6 years

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How does a season affect bc I honestly can't relate and can't tell. Like for example, a saw an anon say she's been having vivid dreams lately probably bc its pisces season and bc she has pisces venus.. Why's that? I just wanna know how seasons affect us in general. Ty 😩💕

Well since it’s coming up soon! Aries season: It’s where we have more energy! Where we are both impulsive and even more confrontational! The sun is moving into Aries which affects everyone differently it can either square your planets which might make you feel tense and trapped or it can be opposite or inconjunct which might make you feel as if you don’t have any direction to send out your energy! It could positively hit your planets and give you more of a carefree and even youthful energy during the season and so on! Aries season is about starting things over and the point of the year where we all really start to feel like “damn this is a new year” it’s about acting not thinking! It’s about the instincts rather than the mind. Ironically this is like spring brakes and when spring kicks off so for the most part adrenaline and even sexuality runs high during this time as if you’re finding yourself for the first time all over again. So think beaches and vacations and huge parties or even just think gyms and working out and just overall wanting to be on the go. Taurus season: it’s more about stability and security! This can be a season full of self love and even more reclusive behavior! People can be stubborn as heck and you might find yourself putting up a fight more than you normally would even if it’s not that serious. It’s a season about pleasures and enjoying others. Can be a lot of laziness and sloth during this time but a lot of sentimentality and love also! I’ve noticed it to be a time of relationships flourishing but it can be troublesome for relationships because Taurus is about security and if that isn’t something that is present in the relationship during Taurus season arguments can be heated and last FOREVER cause no one wants to back down or at least till Gemini season comes around. Gemini season: It’s about communicating and having a good time! Making connections is super easy during this season and social media is VERY lit during Gemini season really anything that has to do with the internet and electronics are at the center focus! Apps, cameras and so on. It can be harder to reach your emotions during this time and you may notice that this season takes you away from any “baggage” so in a sense Gemini season is about moving on from anguish and or anything that could be holding you back and letting go! It’s a mixture of freedom yet for a good cause! Similarly with Aries season harsher or positive - aspects to natal planets can show if this “letting go” will be good or bad. Cancer season: It’s a very emotional time like even more than Pisces season and Scorpio season lmao! It’s about home and comfort it’s about reflecting on the past even if it’s been 10 years. It’s the return of old lovers and the return of past habits and patterns. It’s you meeting the new you and seeing how much you’ve grown as a person! It’s that healthy emotional release! You’ll find yourself crying over things you’ve been over and you’ll also find yourself more distant and that if a homebody during this period!! People with positive aspects will grow a lot during this period maybe even become much more of a happier soul during this time! While those with the harsher ones especially if it’s to their natal moon might find themselves more in a depressive state or even just outright ignoring what cancer season is trying to do to them! But that being said you can’t really escape 😂. Sexual and emotional frustration run RAMPANT so this is also a time where flings start but also a very sexually active time due to how emotional fulfillment becomes tied to sex during this time. Leo season: Leo season is about drama! Lots of it aha. You may find that there’s a lot more tea being spilt and not in the “mysterious unsheathed” way like Scorpio but more in a dramatic and Worldly way! A way that draws attention! You’ll notice that you’re more confident and sharp during this time! Putting more time into yourself and loving what you’ve got! Romance is in the air! This is the end of flings and the start of something more teenage and childlike! It’s honest and curious! People are more blunt during this time and have an ego about them without realizing! People sure do have energy during this time though and aren’t afraid to make daring moves that they normally wouldn’t have. Virgo season: This season is about the earth! Surprisingly themes like global warming, drought, forest fires, animal relocation become very important during this time! Even stuff regarding earth itself from the view of space or in relation to other planets will be more spoken upon during this time! People are more quiet during Virgo season—passive and without much strife, it’s a season that most people take to become beauty gurus or even just focusing on their own health and maybe being even more critical of the health of others. Fashion and clothing are thought about conceptually rather then manifested which happens more in libra season. People may opt out of heavy makeup looks during this time and go natural! It’s a vulnerable season in a earthy way. And it’s a much easier time for people to help others without really giving it much thought.Libra season: Another romance season but more or so about the idea of it rather than actually being in one lmao. It can be hard to decide on something permanent this season and can be even harder to assert yourself mainly because the sun is uncomfortable here more so than any other sign; the sun likes to assert himself but in the presence of libra he loses the ability to do so in the way he likes. So people are a tad awkward this season but that’s fine since this season is about companionship and relationships both platonic and romantic that we form with others and nurturing that bond. Libra season is very peaceful and relaxed people don’t outwardly show their feelings which can make it a bit superficial emotionally but despite that their is a level of respect and manners that come during this season! Scorpio season: Ah Scorpio season its a very mysterious one! This is where we focus on the shadows! Every single one of us become fascinated with knowing the truth or what is out of our grasp! People can be more bit picky and intrusive and might start to dig and pry a bit to much. Scandals and lies tend to come out during this time especially with Jupiter in Scorpio to match. This is a time where things you normally able to leave alone may become obsessions now. Sex can be the theme of this season but more in the “how and why” sex is being used or occurs. This season everyone can be in edge and slightly dark! This season has to do a lot with truth and it often presents the question of wether or not those you surround yourself or even you is being truthful. Sagittarius season: Sagittarius season can feel warm! Exciting even! It’s a time where we feel limitless and free like we can do anything and everything! But that being said it’s also a time where we question life! It’s a time where we ponder and seek independence to figure things out! It can be a time of dissociation and self discovery but also a time of developing the lack of or the abundance of your own morals! Wether you’re harshly aspected or positively aspected in respect to whatever planet doesn’t matter as much here since Sagittarius is a benevolent planet! The main risk here is that you might run the risk of overindulging in something or someone if you’re not careful. Capricorn season: There’s two layers to this season. There’s layer one which occurs during the 1st decan of Capricorn which is Christmas time! This is the tender aspect! This is the slight level of responsibility we feel over our families and close loved ones to make them happy on that special day! It’s our willingness to help those who may not have anything and are desire to be kind to those we might not even know! Then comes Decan two and three which I like to call layer two of cap season which is the more intense part! Money matters and bills can pop up! It’s the recovery period where you have to face the consequences of what you’ve spent money on and your choices leading up to it! It’s when everything hits you in the face and feels like a month long hangover. People can disappear during this time and might grow a bit more somber. Aquarius season: This season can be hard to feel, you might not even notice it’s happening and that’s the point! Aqua season feels like “nothing” you’re not feeling much you’re not romancing the past or pondering on things you’re just living. It’s a time of dissociation and mental dexterity! Your mind is quick and even intuitive during this time! You want stimulation in a cerebral fashion and may be harder to reach with emotions during this time. This season is all about detachment, living in the moment and for the moment and nothing else! People are both chill during this time and even above there more messier emotions! Since this is an air season and the last one at that this can also be a time where electronics or media channels and or places either announce they’ll be shutting down or that they’ll be discontinuing their work and so on—this is also a time where new technology is either spoken on introduced! Usually in tandem with Gemini season. Pisces season:So we are currently in this one! So for starters Pisces season is intense it’s the last water season and it’s the last season of the previous year that walks into the present year so this can be overwhelming energy for most because it’s all of the year coming to an end! People can dream a lot during this time, vivid dreams. People can have moments of deja vu and even find themselves thinking about things from the year prior mainly because it’s as if everything is coming full circle. You’ll feel older during this season and might even start to slowly but surely feel like a snake shedding skin and abandon old habits and patterns previously plaguing you. As you’ll notice this is a more emotional time so sex is less of a focus here and intimacy is more of a priority! You might daydream more and even more so you might detach from situations more often! It’s a more simplistic moment in time without all the loud Noise. It’s about introspection and finally getting yourself ready for the new you that’ll come in Aries season. Hope this helps! And as a note aspects being made to your personal planets during these seasons Is important to look at as it gives you insight as to how that particular season will affect you! Example Aries season will square my sun Conjunct my moon and sextile my venus but it will square my mars and ascendant. My ego will be a little harder to express during this time and I might feel a bit more tension. And it’ll be a bit harder to properly assert myself(mars) during this time of even how I am perceived to others(ascendant) But emotionally ill feel great and might even have a complete make over on an emotional level and my sense of self and love nature might feel more free and relaxed during Aries season and so on!

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stubbornessissues · 7 years

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do you ever write turnwood (or turnfreewood)? bc like, i would love you forever if so ;)))

So, I’ve never really tried my hand at writing them yet, but I’ve been wanting to for a while, so I gave it a a shot when I couldn’t sleep at like 4am, and I totally meant for it to be cute and fluffy but, man, I’m not good at keeping things under control.

AO3 link (because apparently read mores aren’t working so much on mobile now??)

let it be known that those Meg Turney loves are magnificent creatures.

Extravagant souls that are brilliant all on their own; and to have her heart makes them all the more grand.

Meg to a rare few and Dollface to the masses is a charming enigma; a girl with the sweetest face and brightest hair also a notorious killer who flounces around in cute skirts and teases the enforcers of law with mocking selfies.

She is captivating and hard to find.

So her curiosity is in fact nudged into play when she receives a large sum, and in the payment notes is “Left you a breadcrumb, try to find me.”

It takes her a long time to trace the money back to the notorious Fakes, the only committers of crime she’s ever considered on her level.

The hacker was brilliant and mocking in the doors he courteously left open for her to follow him. Left her to clean up the mess to cover both their asses.

It’s cheeky enough to make her reach out to them.

And they surprise her with an immediate response.

“Choose a place and we’re there.”

The whole thing feels very impersonal. This is nothing but a business call- just the way she likes it.

Nothing in the world could have prepared her to meet with the Vagabond and Ramsey’s wild card.

He- the boy decked out in gold and a debonair attitude, playing at being a man- is the one she’s been trading curt messages with.

He is the one that’s been mocking her.

It’s the Vagabond that takes her hand and pulls out her chair for her in a bumbling manner that has Dollface raising her brows. She considers it an act, wonders what he’s to gain from this meeting

They’re at a corner table for four in the best restaurant Los Santos has to offer- which is admittedly very little- and somehow the empty seat beside her feels like another taunt; it’s clear why Gavin, the Golden Boy, smooth talker and hacker extraordinaire is close to Ramsey. He’s got her pegged without ever being in the same room, and now that they’re across from eachother she can practically feel him peeling back the layers.

Meg only ever cares for the aesthetics and appearance of things, after all that’s all she ever was to them.

Gavin, she finds quickly, is one of the rare souls that seems genuinely disinterested in her; he bears no resentment or ill feelings to her- Ramsey himself corroborates that inkling- but he carries no warmth for her either and Meg hates it because somehow, somehow his twitchy smiles and smug grins and too large nose have pervaded her thoughts.

She finds herself giggling at his actions like some besotted schoolgirl with her first crush and she’s never hated anything more.

He turns her to putty without even trying.

Ryan, she observes long after her team up with the Fakes has devolved into a casual partnership, is much the same with Gavin- as are many others in the crew- unable to ever deny his requests and so eager to please and impress him

She hates that he’s hardly even aware he’s doing it.

If Meg is a star, Gavin is a supernova and Ryan is some poor soul caught between them.

Except that’s too cliche and destructive.

Meg is some breathtaking sunset with the warm pinks and golds streaking the sky and Gavin is the undulating Northern Lights- the aurora borealis if you care about your poetry.

And Ryan, poor Ryan is left just trying to keep up.

Ryan who in his own right is something beautifully horrific to behold; Ryan who has the general public whispering horror stories about him and warning their kids like he’s some urban legend, is the darkness they need to shine through.

Sure in the day the sun is bright and warm, but when the night starts creeping in and the darkness brings out hues you can’t be sure you’ve ever seen anywhere else, well, it’s really something else.

And a sunset is only fleeting.

The Northern Lights, they’s still impressive enough in the day, but they’re truly magnificent, they truly shine when night falls.

So Meg and Gavin, they clash; they fail to exist in tandem.

Dollface falls out of love with the Golden boy and he’s left none the wiser about where her affections lay.

Dollface falls in love with the Vagabond.

She still giggles when Gavin tells his wild stories or brims with glee when they approach a biker in the car because he’s rubbed off on her. But she giggles because she’s happy with where they are, not because she wants to impress him.

And together, the three of them are an insurmountable force of nature.

10.

Touch one and there’s hell to pay.

They still work for the Fakes, but their trio hasn’t gone unnoticed by the media, by the other gangs that are out there.

It’s known that Dollface and the Vagabond have an endless supply of horrors to unleash upon the world and with their boy backing them, they can know anything in the world- makes their torture sessions real interesting.

So the world knows they have a hacker at their backs.

The world knows their weakness, and it’s only a matter of time until they’re apart- it’s only a matter of time until they receive a delivery of shattered gold shades and they’re left lost.

Between them, they know enough, they’ve learned enough from Gavin to track his phone’s unique signal to the docks and they fly before the Fakes can even know a thing is wrong- after all, the shades were left for them; it’s not about Geoff this time (but that must be a nice bonus)- they hurtle across the city, the world a blur of honking cars and asphalt until they slow towards the docks.

11.

Touch two and you would call death a blessing.

Touch all three and you’re a god.

12.

A car comes out of nowhere, slams into the bike, there’s sickening crunching sounds and chaos and pain. Meg can’t make sense of anything, can’t even get her breaths in right can only focus on the fire in her bones and the panic clawing it’s way through every nerve in her body.

Ryan.

Gavin.

It’s a trap. She makes sense of that somewhere. She understands on some indecipherable level that someone’s playing at being a god. Someone has blindsided the three most notorious criminals on the west coast.

A shout is all she needs to make sense of the world again.

Get up.

Get up, Turney.

There’s Gavin in the distance, struggling ferociously to get to them, and it’s truly a sight to behold, tearing against the ropes at his wrists and legs kicking for them to let go. This gang plans for them to suffer if they had brought him along to watch.

She would be impressed if a hand didn’t curl into her hair at that moment and wrench her to feet with a pained cry. Every fibre of her body protests the situation and she feels a pistol against the underside of her chin, hot, just fired and if she could she would look back to Gavin because she knows she and Ryan weren’t the reason for the shot.

There’s pride mixed with fear mixed with fucking shit we’re about to die.

She hears Ryan giving them trouble, and, for a moment, envies his shorter hair; she knows Gavin’s giving them a good fight and it’s all she needs to get over just how much the hair pulling hurts and throw her weight around, take them both tumbling to the floor.

13.

They lose the fight.

14.

She wakes in an inordinate amount of pain with dried blood flaking free the second she moves.

“Meg?”

She hears her name, thinks it’s time to properly wake up but everything hurts and she just wants to sleep.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” That’s Gavin that growls, alerting her to another presence in the room moving about, unlike her, unable to make her limbs respond at all.

“Only because you asked so nicely, Free.” that voice mocks, ridicules the very essence of his name and she knows she needs to just open her fucking eyes. “Come on Haywood, wakey-wakey.” The sound of a three sharp slaps is enough, and she finds them all in a dim room, in a tidy circle of three, strapped down to metal chairs.

She meets Gavin’s eyes across from her, sees him shake his head. Keep your eyes closed. She’s too slow and out of it to understand why he would want that, but she trusts Gavin enough, knows him enough to believe he must have a plan.

And what the fuck? It dawns on her a moment too late that he’s been using their surnames, their real names.

“What the fuck?” Ryan sounds too soft and lost, somewhere to her right and she aches to fix this- to go back in time and just stop and make a plan, or warn the crew- but she can’t do a damn thing.

“Meg? Wake up” Don’t wake up, Meg.

“So nice of you to join us Vagabond, it was getting rather boring with just me and Mr. Free here.”

“Mr. Free and I.”

“What?” There’s a small pause, in which she hears Ryan shrug and Gavin choke back a laugh and it’s a struggle for Meg to keep her own lips from twitching.

“Proper grammar is important.”

15.

She falls in love with Gavin all over again.

Meg listens to him talk circles around their torturer, keep him from his actual task long enough for her to notice through her lashes that there’s a shard of glass near her left foot, and she’s got just enough mind to hide it away beneath her toes.

16.

It’s twenty minutes before the guy remembers that he’s supposed to be making them suffer, and not bickering about probability with two of his captives and leaves to cool off and find his tools.

Her head snaps up the instant the door is shut, toes already curling around the shard, heedless of any injury, because she knows of the things that will come if she doesn’t do this.

“You two still can’t let the fucking coin go?”

Gavin’s uncaring as she twists her leg as high as it can go and gets the shard gripped between her fingers- thanking the heavens that she’s been doing yoga lately- and starts sawing at the leather with a ferocity.

“I’m not letting it go because he’s fucking wrong.”

“That guy didn’t seem to think so.”

“Because he’s an idiot and we just managed to completely confuse him.” They’re still going at it, bringing in quantum laws and it’s enough to drive Meg into further anger. She’s determined to get out of those cuffs just so she can strangle the two of them.

And later Meg will appreciate that they made her work harder like that. It’s probably what saves them.

She saws through the strap, wrenching herself free with a great tug that snaps the leather and immediately drops the shard, fumbling, bloody fingers undoing the other one right as the door opens.

17.

They don’t lose this time.

18.

They may not lose, but they certainly don’t win.

The room is small, and the guy has a gun that comes out, that fires, that Meg tries to knock away.

This embeds a bullet in the Golden Boy’s gut.

She has enough sense to kick the shard of glass to Ryan before charging the guy, slamming him into a wall and she can hear Gavin gasping, choking on his own blood as she jerks her knee up hard, twists her finger into his jacket.

Gavin wheezes as she hammers the guys head against the wall, once twice, third time’s the charm. He turns into a dead weight and she moves, let’s him crumple and she’s already in front of Gavin with shaking hands undoing his restraints.

Ryan’s with her a second later, wrenching his shirt off and bundling it to stop the flow of bleeding and she’s panicking because she knows there’s more of the gang on their way to investigate the shot.

Gavin’s head slumps, Meg looks to Ryan. “There’s more out there.” She hardly dares whisper it. “One of us is going to have to stay with him while the other fights.”

19.

Ryan’s hands are warm and steady, they sit on top of hers and grant Meg with a clearer head.

“I’ll be back, you try to wake him up, and lock yourselves in.”

He kisses the top of her head before leaving.

20.

Seconds stretch to minutes.

1. 2. 5. 10.

Is Ryan coming back?

Focus on Gavin. Focus on keeping him alive.

Don’t let the guilt eat you up, Meg.

Forget that you knocked the knocked the gun that way.

Keep him alive.

“Hey, asshole, come on. A hand pats at his cheek.” Nothing.

She needs to get him flat, she thinks, at least, if he’s on his back, maybe the blood flow won’t have gravity working alongside it. But she can’t be sure. She doesn’t know a damn thing.

“Gavin come on.”

21.

Ryan comes back and she’s still not got Gavin awake.

She’s checked his pulse and felt it, weaker every time, but still there, still just barely holding on.

“They’re all dead, the crew is on their way.” Somewhere out there, Ryan found a machete and their phones.

“Oh thank god.” Meg exhales.

Jack will know what to do, Jack will fix him.

22.

“You know, the stomach is supposedly the worst place to get shot. It’s where all your organs are…”

Meg doesn’t say anything, just lets Ryan wrap his arms around her shoulders and draw her in. Everything is still tender.

“It hurts like hell, but it’s survivable, and if anyone’s going to live through it…”

“Gavin will.” She finishes against the leather of his jacket.

23.

And Ryan is right.

Gavin’s light is not so easily diminished.

Meg’s guilt is much the same.

No matter who tells her it wasn’t her fault, no matter how many times they say it, she refuses it because it cannot be the truth. Not when there’s very real proof in the way Gavin winces when he so much as rises to his feet, or simpers, now more than ever for Ryan to bring him tea.

The real proof is that Ryan does it it.

Gavin may have bent people to whims before, but it was always in a different way, he twisted them into wanting to do it, but now…

Now they feel sorry for him and like they have to do it.

24.

“I never said thanks for getting us out of there… Or y’know, apologised for getting us into it in the first place.”

They’re lounging on the sofa, all three of them, tangled limbs and warm blankets and the Titanic playing before them.

And Meg knows he means her because Ryan has fallen asleep beneath them, and Gavin’s trailing lines across Meg’s stomach with his soft, warm fingers. (She tries to ignore the tightness she feels when he skims by where she knows his scars to be.)

“You did a lot of it too.” She deflects, refusing to take her eyes off the screen where Jack and Rose are fucking in a steamy car. “Kept the guy talking, kept him from noticing me with the glass… it was all your idea.”

“Didn’t exactly plan on getting shot. That was a bit of a surprise….. But I don’t blame you, you’ve got to know that by now.”

She bites her lip, but doesn’t speak.

“Better my guts than your head. He would have tortured us anyway if you’d gone and got yourself shot dead.”

And somehow, somehow, that’s all she needs. The logical, rational part of it that no one deemed it a good idea to give her, some how. The it could have been worse if you didn’t.

25.

She falls for Gavin Free again.

But something’s different this time.

This time, he falls for her too.

And on the way, he falls for Ryan Haywood too, just like she did.

#Turnfreewood #turnwood #Meg Turney #Ryan Haywood #Gavin Free #Lana Writes Trash #I've never wrote Meg before and suddenly I'm doing something Meg centric #rip #Anonymous #No proofreading once again #we die like men

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