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twistnet · 2 years

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rain against the windows [ ellie williams ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; taking shelter from the seattle rain, confessions are made after a quick brush of death

⋯ PROMPT ; [ smut three ] “i need you”

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, angst [ near-death experience ], tw [ blood, violence, panic attacks ], smut [ vaginal fingering, thigh riding, soft sex -- or ellie being an absolute softie ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post will be blocked

the door opened, and you suddenly felt like you could breathe again. in theory, seeing as spores from dead infected still lingered within the area, but you were just happy to be out of that hell hole.

“what the hell happened here?” ellie questioned, gesturing toward the rows fo train cars piled together. you shared a look as she travelled forward, taking the lead as she scooped for a way out, “i’m going to guess some sort of train crash.”

she chuckles lightly at your answer, climbing up and into one of the train cars, “thanks sherlock.” you shake your head, following in after her and grabbing a few salvageable supplies you happen to come across. she rounds the corner of one of the cars, stopped short, “jesus...” “i wonder how long they kept these running past outbreak day.”

“el, i think i see some light up that way.” you mention, seeing her nod in confirmation. you wonder around a little, turning as ellie calls your name motioning to the overturned soda machine she had climbed atop of to get where she was waiting, “right. coming!” she waits until you’ve climbed up before moving on, combing through some of the old suitcases that lay abandoned.

she hops down from the train car, turning to make sure you’ve made it through before pointing up, “getting closer to the light.” you nod, following her over to a overturned car, much too high to climb up to on your own, “hey. lemme get you up there.” you nod, placing your foot in her laced hands, stepping as lightly as you can on her shoulder as she lifts you up just enough for you to pull yourself onto the platform, “whatcha got?” she questions, watching as you push an old crate off the side and onto the floor before waving for her to climb up “c’mon.”

she joins you a second later, brushing past you to take the lead again, nodding up towards the light, “we’re almost out.” you nod, trailing behind her, “lead on.” she gets halfway down the car when it begins to creak, “oh no!” she calls, turning back to look at you just as the car snaps and sends her barreling down to the ground, “fuck!”

you panic for a brief moment, quickly deciding to follow after her and you slide down the flooring, “ellie! i’m coming!” you call out, hearing her struggle against an infected that managed to catch her off-guard. you quickly pull him off, shooting him square in the chest before in the head, “get... off!” you growl out, watching him fall to the floor.

ellie stands, and you look over at her, getting ready to ask if she’s alright when you notice the hole in her mask, “ellie, your mask!” she lifts her hand, finding the glass cracked and now useless, “here, we can share mine!” you state, already undoing the straps of your own mask to give to her, when she yells, “no, no, no!” shoving you up against the nearest wall, and tightly gripping your wrists to prevent you from tugging your mask off any further, “what?!”

she shakes her head as you struggle against her, “don’t take this off! stop!” she pleads with you, gripping your wrists tighter, “ellie --!” you state, getting ready to push that she won’t survive without a mask and that you aren’t dying alone down her when she peels off her broken mask, “what? no! ellie, what are you doing?!” you struggle more against her, trying to reach up and grab your mask straps when she shoves you again, almost knocking the wind from your lungs.

“stop! i’m not infected!” at this, you settle in her grip. confusion crossing what she can see of your features through the mask, “i’m immune!” gently letting go of your wrists as she gestures to herself, “i’m not coughing, do you see?”

there is a moment of hesitation, as you see it with your own eyes. more so as the thick layer of spores peppers the air and she seems unaffected. you open your mouth to question it, when the loud roar of infected sounds from further down the tunnel and gets increasingly closer with every second, “fuck.”

she turns to you once more, eyes bright with worry, “can you run?” you nod before calling out, “yes.” she steps back, pulling her gun out before pushing you in front of her, “let’s fucking go. go!”

you ran ahead, struggling slightly when an infected manages to grab your arm, yet is quickly killed with a quick shot to the head as ellie ushers you up the escalator, “ellie!” you call, notifying her of the clickers that have joined in, before turning to run up a set of stairs. ellie gets caught, a hand at her ankle sending her to the ground, but before the runner can get atop of her, you shoot him twice before hauling her up and motioning her down a hall.

more infected join, a few shamblers puffing toxic gas as you hop over a gated section of the tunnel. ellie quickly dispatching the one that managed to follow after the two of you before she’s right back behind you, letting you go through the turn-style before running in after you. she gets stuck after a clicker follows in behind, forcing her back against the grating before you land a shot and the clicker falls dead, jamming the gate shut.

everything catches up to you in the moment, as you crumble to the ground with your hand over your chest, breathing becoming labored as the panic sets in. you vaguely hear ellie call your name, “are you bit?!” she asks worriedly as hands check you over. you manage to shake your head before squeaking out, “can’t breathe...” she understands, quickly grabbing you and pulling you towards the outside. she rips your mask from your face, settling you against the side of a car before kneeling in front of you, “breathe for me, babe. in and out. just like we practiced, remember?” she gently coaches you through your breathing, having you mimic each breath as a her thumb rubs gentle circles along the back of your hand.

“what are three things you see?” she questions once your breathing has returned, “firetruck, lamppost, you.” she nods, confirming with you on each one you see as she turn back to you.

“three things you hear?” the next question, and a deep, slow breath, “thunderstorm, crickets, infected.” you miss the way she grimaces at the last answer, but nods again to let you know you’re correct.

“three parts of your body?” the last one, “arm, hand, fingers.” you settle back against the car, body now worn out from the events just seconds ago. ellie gently pats your shoulder, looking you over, “you alright?” you nod, eyes blinking slowly as she smiles, looking around for some shelter as rain begins to pelt the two of you.

“let’s get into this theater over here.” she gestures, hauling your back to your feet and letting your wrap and arm around her shoulders. she guides you over to the theater, letting you rest against the door as she shoulders it open.

she drops you on the couch, pulling your bag from your shoulders as you settle into the old cushions. ellie seems to hover beside you, unsure how to bring up the conversation of her immunity, but she knew it would have to brought up eventually. however, you had managed to beat her to the topic, “you’re immune?”

she shuffles her feet, nodding silently as she twists her fingers -- a nervous habit, “yeah. it happened... a long time ago.” you nod, mind still turning over how this was possible at all, “are there others like you?” noting the way her face slightly falls at the question, “no. i’ve never met another immune person... and i can’t make you immune.”

“that’s... kinda cool. sucks cause they probably can’t make a cure for all of this, but at least if you’re bit, you won’t turn in to one of those things.” ellie stands, slightly taken aback at your response as you stand from the couch, looking over the theater, “you aren’t... mad?” she questions, which causes you to raise a brow in her direction, “why would i be mad?”

“well... i can’t fix this or make a cure.” she states, as if it was the most obvious thing. and you wonder if she is wanting you to be mad at her from something completely out of her control. you sigh, “and that warrants for me to be mad? ellie, knowing how this virus is... making a cure would probably kill you. and what then? people magically become one again and things go back to normal?things don’t work like that and like you said yourself, you’ve never come across another immune person. what if by some universal power it didn’t work? it would have been for nothing.”

you half expect for her to disagree with you. in turn, leaving the subject alone while you busy yourself in scoping out the theater. instead, she reaches forward to cup your cheeks and pull you in for a passionate kiss that leaves you stunned for a moment.

she pulls back, letting your catch you breath before she’s kissing you again. this time, ushering you back towards the couch you were just seated on, “i need you.” she utters against your lips as she pulls at your jacket, shoving it off your shoulders as she goes for the belt on your jeans. there’s a flash of clothes, both yours and hers building a small pile before she’s climbing atop you.

fingers skim along the band of your underwear, dipping below to run them through your folds, already slick with arousal. she groans against your shoulder, thumb gently toying with your clit as she slips a finger in, shuttering at your moan against her ear.

she works you open gently, pressing kisses to your neck and collarbone with each brush thrust of her finger before adding in another and working them in tandem with the circles she’s rubbing against your clit.

you mewl against her, shifting under her when your thigh brushes against her clit, causing her to bite back a moan as her hips grind softly. she’s leaking through her panties, hips jutting forward to move in time with her fingers as she fucks you gently, slowly chasing after her high against the meat of your thigh.

you flex your thigh, bumping it against her clit as she almost falls forward. managing to catch herself at your breast, which she squeezes in her grasp. her pace picks up, following the thrust of her fingers inside of you which now begin to brush against that sweet spot and almost has you seeing stars.

your nails dig into her bicep as you cry out, clenching around her fingers tightly as you cum, chest heaving as you watch her shutter before collapsing against your chest.

seconds later, she’s sitting up to remove her fingers. wiping them on the fabric of the couch before she’s standing to grab her clothes. you get ready to question her when she smiles and raises her hands, “i’m just going to find something to clean us up with. then we can get dressed and explore this place. i’m not leaving you.” she hikes up her jeans before grabbing her gun and goes searching for some clean water.

it’s some time before she returns, dopey smile on her face as she waves the soaked rag -- most likely from rain water. she gently cleans you up, taking time to sort out the injuries you do have before she’s getting fulled dressed and ushering you upstairs, “you’ll never believe what i found...”

blog navigation ⇢ [ the last of us masterlist ]

#the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou imagine #ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie imagine #ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams smut #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022

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stuckysdaughter · 2 years

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Ben Barnes Secret Santa 2021

Summary: My Secret Santa gift for all-art-is-quite-useless! An enemies to lovers with the wonderful Billy Russo!

TW: light smut, 18+, some cursing, mentions of blood, injuries, mentions of guns/shooting

Tagging: @the-purity-pen @all-art-is-quite-useless @rachlovesactors @eginv-blog @my-day6

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You and Billy Russo really don't get along, no not at all. He rubbed you the wrong way, and vice versa. You didn't understand how Frank could put up with him. Alright, you understood that there was a special bond between the Marines. But that doesn't mean you have to have the same connection!

******

You met at Karen’s birthday party. She was one of your oldest friends, dating back to sophomore year in high school. You wouldn't have missed this day for the world.

"Y/N, c'mere, I want you to meet someone!"

"Comin'," you shouted back from the kitchen where you were refilling your glass.

You saw a man standing by her, and you knew this was another attempt for a setup. Karen had been trying to set you up with her friends or Frank's friends since your last breakup, and the last one was a horrible disaster. You had a sinking feeling this one would be too.

The man had dark hair, styled to perfection. It had to be, since he was the only one wearing a suit, pretentious ass. He turned around to face you, and you were met with pitch black eyes.

"Y/N, this is Billy. Billy, this is my best friend Y/N."

He flashed you a charming smirk, and you instantly remembered all the stories you were told about him. His way with the girls and the speed at which he went through them. No way, uh uh.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N."

"You as well, Billy. But sorry, not gonna happen."

His face contorted into shock and then anger, "Excuse me?"

"Karen is clearly trying to set me up with you. I've heard all the stories, I know how you are with the women you're with if you can even call it that. So sorry, but no thanks."

Karen looked uncomfortable, and you knew you were right. She tried to set you up and you tossed out that idea at first glance. Karen also knew about Billy's temper, which was only rivaled by your own. She slowly backed away from you both, and silently excused herself.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I did to solicit this, but I assure you whatever it is, it's wrong."

"Oh really?" You were just adding fuel to the fire now, egged on by his growing anger. "So the stories about all the one night stands aren't true? Or how you were with that Agent Madani until she got in your way?"

His jaw clenched, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. "Well then, sweetheart," he leered at you, "Let me tell you all the things I've heard about you."

Oh, shit.

"Is it true that your longest relationship was a year? And that you broke it off because you couldn't stand him any longer? Or is that just a lie because I'm pretty sure if I were him, I'd leave as fast as I could."

His smirk grew as he watched you stew in anger. You weren't going to make a scene, not now, not on your best friend's birthday. But you sure as hell couldn't be around this asshole anymore. Shaking with pent up hatred, you left him there, and found some of your other friends to talk to.

******

You ran into each other a few more times the following weeks. Each time neither of you spoke to each other unless you had to, followed by some sort of jab. It became a game of yours, to see who got the last word. Your friends were getting tired of it, because they could clearly see you were attracted to each other. You weren't going to deny him his looks, he was admittedly a handsome man. But, you weren't going to fall for his charms and his lies, not like those other girls.

This time, however, was different. It was late evening, and you were about to turn in for the night. You put on your pajamas, and wiped off the light makeup you wore. As you were finishing your nightly routine, the doorbell rang. You weren't expecting any visitors, especially not at this hour, so you grabbed the baseball bat you kept close by just in case. Looking through the peephole of your door, you saw it was Billy.

What the fuck, what is he doing here?

Then you got a closer look at him, and how he was leaning to one side. You noted his ruffled hair as you opened the door, and you saw the blood streaming down his leg.

"Oh my God, Billy, are you alright? Get in here, let me look at that."

You ushered him into your apartment, and you saw he was limping, favoring his left leg. You led him to the bathroom, and turned around as he slowly cut his dark trousers for you to get better access.

You saw the bullet wound and you fought the urge to puke. It looked like he had managed to take the bullet out, but stopped after that. You were by no means a doctor, but you knew it at least needed to be cleaned and wrapped.

You grabbed the nearest thing of gauze bandages, and a ratty washcloth. You dampened the cloth with water from the sink, and started cleaning the area around the wound. Once you could see what you were looking at, you realized it wasn't as bad as you originally thought. It was in the meat of his leg, but it didn't appear to have hit anything important. It was also done bleeding, except for the occasional dribble. When you were sure that it was sufficiently cleaned, you wrapped his leg with gauze and taped it.

"There. I still suggest you go to the hospital and get it looked at, but I guess this will do for now." You looked at him, and said, "I suppose I don't want to know how you got this, correct?"

Billy just sighed, and looked down at the floor. "I don't think you do, no. I'm sorry to just show up here, but your place was the closest."

"Don't apologize," You leaned back against the wall. "Being a nurse wasn't on my list for today, but I'm glad I could help." There was a moment of silence before you spoke up again. "That doesn't mean we're friends, just to be clear."

He laughed, and a grin rose to his face. A genuine grin, one you'd only ever seen him give to Frank and Karen. "Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

******

After that day, something between the two of you changed. It was still tense, but in a different way. Like you both wanted to say something, but was holding back. You still fought at every chance, but it was lighter, less fierce. You weren't sure what exactly brought on this change, but you knew it had something to do with that night.

Frank and Karen were just waiting for the two of you to admit how you felt. They knew you were perfect for each other, they just didn't plan on how stubborn you'd be. This time they'd get you together, once and for all. They invited you both over to their place for dinner, hoping that this time you'd finally say something.

It was near the end of the night that you had a moment alone. The couple went to wash dishes, and you and Billy went to the living room to sit and wait for them. You shared the small couch, your legs just barely touching.

"Y/N-"

"Billy-" You laughed, and turned to face the man. "You first."

"Ok," he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Y/N, there's something I've been meaning to say for a while now, I just didn't know how to tell you."

"Ok..."

"I really like you, Y/N. I don't really know what this is," he gestured between the two of you, "But I'd really like to take you out sometime. If you'll let me, that is. I know how you feel about my personal life."

You were shocked, unable to form any words. But stronger than that was your pure joy at what Billy just said. It made what you were about to say so much easier.

"Billy, I don't know what this is either. But what I do know, is that I really like you too. I'd be honored if you'd go out with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

Billy wasted no time, pulling you close into a kiss. His hands cupped your face, as your own wrapped around his neck. He pulled you onto his lap, and his hands went up the back of your shirt.

"Wait, wait," You pulled away for a moment. "We're still at Frank's place."

Billy blushed a deep red, as he seemed to grow more aware of his surroundings. "Right, yeah we are."

You quirked an eyebrow as you met his dark gaze. "My place?"

******

You kicked the door closed with your heel as you stumbled into the room. You had made your hasty goodbyes, missing the look the pair flashed each other. Now that you reached your apartment, his lips were once again on yours. It felt like you were on fire, warmth spreading throughout your body.

You reached the bed in no time, excited for the pleasure that awaited you both. Clothes were flying everywhere, off faster than you thought possible. You both climbed on, and you went to lower yourself to press your lips to his hardened length. He stopped you before you could, though.

“Ah ah, princess. Tonight is all about you. Come here.”

He motioned you over to him, and grabbed hold of your hips to pull you close. You were sitting on his lap now, and you could feel his erection throbbing beneath you. He kissed you with a passion you had never felt before, and it took your breath away. He pulled away, and drew his attention to your breasts. He took one into his mouth, and massaged the other with his hand. Billy took extra care to give equal attention to both, not wanting you to feel slighted by his affections.

When he was satisfied with his work there, he pressed feather light kisses in a trail down your stomach. As he kissed your body, he lowered his own, until he was lying underneath you. You were already wet with anticipation, and when Billy saw he gave a wolfish grin.

“So wet for me, already, princess?” He licked along your slit, gathering some of your juices on his tongue. “You taste so good, darling. So sweet."

Your lover continued his ministrations, and you were so lost in the pleasure already. He had just barely started and you were already so close. Billy tightened his grip on your hips to keep you steady above his face. Once you were situated, he swirled his tongue around your bud before plunging it into your cunt. His tongue found the right spot with the ease coming only from years of practice. You cried out in ecstasy, Billy moaning at the sound. Your hands were tangling in his hair, urging him on.

He picked up the pace, going faster and harder. He took out his tongue, and quickly placed his lips on your fold. He sucked on it like he needed it to survive, and you knew you were close.

“Fuck, Billy… I-I’m gonna…”

“Let go, Y/N. Cum for me.”

You released on the spot, Billy lapping up your juices, not losing a drop. He worked you through your high, helping you come down from it, until you were panting big heavy breaths.

Billy sat up, and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. Your cum was down his face, but he still licked his fingers clean with each swipe. He met your eyes as he finished sucking on his fingers, and you rushed over to claim his lips with yours. You could taste the remnants that were on his lips.

He pushed you onto your back, and lined himself up with your entrance. With one thrust, he was seated all the way in you. You nodded your head quickly, letting him know you were ok to continue. He then started moving inside you, soaking up the moans that were slipping past your lips. Faster and faster he went, and you once again felt your arousal approaching.

"Ohh, Billy..."

"Fuck, Y/N..."

Within moments, you both were coming, highs overtaking you. He pulled out of you, and flopped down beside you. Panting heavily, he pulled you close to him so your head could rest on his chest. Billy pressed a light kiss to your hair, and gently ran his hand through it.

"Billy?"

He looked down at you the best he could. "Yes, Y/N?"

"This isn't like the stories I've heard about you, right? I didn't just become another notch in the bedpost?"

His answer came quick. "No, darling, no. I want to keep seeing you, keep doing this. As long as you'll let me."

You smiled, and curled back into his chest, content for the first time in a long while. You really hated that damn Billy Russo. But you also loved him with your whole heart, the same way that he loved you in return.

------

THE END

Author's Notes: Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope you liked this fic, I spent a lot of time on it. It was harder to get the reader's voice on this one, since I don't naturally pick fights with people like that haha. And I am not a nurse, so please don’t quote me on how to clean wounds like that. I used the almighty google, but again, I’m not a nurse. But, I am proud of this one, and I hope you all enjoyed it. I hope you enjoyed your gift, @all-art-is-quite-useless! I tried to follow your requests as close as possible. Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the taglist, or if anyone wants me to write something specific. Requests are open, I've got one or two going at the moment, but more are always welcome. Happy Holidays, everyone, and enjoy the rest of the 2021 Secret Santa Celebrations!!

#bbficexchange2021 #ben barnes imagines #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes/reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #billy russo/reader #secret santa

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the-midnight-feline · 3 years

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¤¸¸.•´¯`•¸¸.•..>> So this piece is actually part of the Piliin mo ang Pilipinas Collab event hosted by @lumpiang-toge, you guys should seriously check this out since the works posted there are such good reads ❤️️<<..•.¸¸•´¯`•.¸¸¤

this is the first time i've joined a collab, (ngl i thought i was waaay in over my head lol) i'd like to thank a friend of mine, Dylan, (won't tag his blog just cause, loves you for reading it !) thanks so much for the encouraging words ❤️ and of course Mama Rae (@hq-girl-next-door) for the advice on the banner**❤️

**For the banner I did, I took the image from pinterest, if you guys know who the artist is, please let me know so I could properly give credit to them :)

Tags/TW: Mutual pinning-ish, friends to lovers, fluff to angst, Cheating, swearing (I think theres one or two in there)

(A/N: Please don't get too confused /-\, the italic parts is you recollecting the past, it comes and goes (。♡‿♡。))

WC: 3.8k ;-; didn't know it get that long

Pairings: Tendou Satori x fem!Reader

Summary: It all started with a simple crush, you wouldn't have guessed that it'll be more than that, It was a dream come true to loved and be loved by the person you loved, but not all dreams end good, some end as a nightmare.

“You like the Guess Monster, like THE Guess Monster?!?!” your friends shouted in unison, looking at them frantically as you’re in the gym watching the guys warm up for a practice match and the way they shouted had the sounds of balls hitting the floor just below where your group sat, you willed yourself to look at the who were the people below you guys trying repress the blush you feel creeping on your cheeks, swallowing that lump on your throat as you peaked just a little over the ledge and saw his red hair. Internally cussing out your so-called friends, you tired to act like you calm and collected as he was looking up at the bleachers, maybe trying to guess which one in your group, who was also looking over at whoever heard them, liked him, shaking his head, chuckling toward Ushijima and Semi who was already making their way to the court to get this warm up started.

A single tear began rolling down your cheek as you remembered how it all began, your friends’ sudden outburst in the gym gave you the opportunity to talk to the guy you’ve been crushing on when you first saw him in the opening ceremony just something about him drew you to him and you were adamant on getting to, at the least, know him. Sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, opening the memory box you and your husband made a few months after you started dating.

Semi knew your friend, he actually liked her and from that outburst of theirs at the gym, he 89immediately thought of a way to hit two birds with one stone. “hey, y/f/n, I heard you guys at the bleachers, sooo” scratching he neck out of shyness “which of your friends like our Tendou? Maybe we could setup a date or something?" He really liked your friend and would honestly do anything to get her on a date, she pointed to you, the quiet in of the group, usually the source of rationality and guidance, the one that acts like the mediator of the group. You really always kept to yourself, didn��t really want to attract attention towards yourself. Semi was skeptical at first, you the quiet, shy girl of the class liked that loud ass friend of his? Maybe y/f/n was pulling his leg, she can’t be serious.

A bitter laugh escapes your lips as the memory of your first date comes crashing on you as see the pressed flower from the little hole in the wall café near the school, Semi was the one that found that café and planned every detail of the date.

As you and your friend were walking towards the café Semi told her about, you were itching to just keep hitting your friends back “why the hell did you fucking agree to this?!!” you hissed at your friend, you were practically shooting daggers at her for saying yes on your behalf and you didn’t even know what she agreed to but she told you to get dolled up, silly you, thinking that it’ll be just a girls day out, but peering over her shoulder as your guys walk out of the dorm, you see her texting Semi, thinking maybe it was him asking for notes since they were in the same class. She led you to this small café and you guys sat at a corner booth, making you sit inside by the wall, you really thought nothing of it, until you saw that distinctive red hair bounding towards your booth. Your palms got a tad sweaty, nerves getting the best of you, a million thoughts racing in your mind that you didn’t notice that the Tendou Satori was there taking the seat opposite of you in the booth, the ever infectious smile directed towards you and you alone. Seeing as you and Satori were basically having a silent conversation with just your smiles, Semi and your friend made a discreet exit and left you two be. Little did you know, he often saw you around, he knows you like shounen jump as much as he does since he sees you go to the store he usually goes to, he knows what snacks you liked since he usually goes out at the middle of the night to get some snacks of his own at the convenience store around the corner. He sees you in the library with your nose buried in some book when he follows Semi there just to annoy him. Tendou didn’t tell anybody about the girl he liked from afar, he knew he’d scare you off, no one wanted to date a Monster, or that’s what he thought.

Looking back, that impromptu date was what started the relationship with Satori, a soft sob escapes your lips as tears gently fall on the first picture you have together, he suddenly rang you up and asked you to go to the mall with him. In the picture, he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you were hugging his waist tightly, seemingly scared that being with him was a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Getting out of the shower, you hear your phone ring from under your pillow, confused as to who might that be since it was an unknown number calling you, curious you answered it. “hey y/n! I know it’s kinda out of the blue but, you wanna go to the mall with me?” shock was evident in your body, it was Tendou! Your thoughts was scrambling, you know you didn’t get a chance to give him your number before you guys parted ways on your first meeting since Coach Washijo made Ushijima contact both guys for a weekend practice. You knew the coach was a hot head and would make anymore run 50 laps if they were late and that was a few weeks ago, a worried Tendou called out to you again “uh…y/n? If you have other plans I totally under-“ blinking back to the present “I’d love to go! Lemme get ready and I’ll meet you down” you cut him off midsentence hearing a small chuckle at the other line “don’t make me wait too long ok?” he said in a teasing tone which made you giggle on the line “yes, yes Satori, I’ll hang up so I could get ready ok? See you!” it took every ounce of self-control to not shriek the whole conversation, once he hung up you were practically jumping on your bed out of pure joy, but then you remembered that he’ll be waiting, you quickly snapped out of it and looked through your dresser for a decent outfit for going out with Tendou, you quickly settled with a simple get up of a long sleeved shirt and pants with some sneakers on, you excitedly exited your room, to meet up with Tendou, hoping you haven’t made him wait too long, turning the last corner you see him outside your dorm, almost wearing the same thing as you, even the color of your shoes match, biting your lip to stop a stupid smile from taking over you walk up behind him, gently poking his side, his sudden jump made you giggle as he took in all of you, a smile makes its way on his lips and eyes as he himself lets out a chuckle. “y/n? Are you copying me?” shaking your head, letting a small laugh out “Satori, please you’re the one copying me here” he just shook his out of amusement when he saw the glint of teasing in your eyes before he offended his arm to you like a gentleman would, the small action made you faint blush.

You two spent the day just walking around the mall, just browsing from store to store, having just a blast at all the random comments he makes, the last stop you guys make was the arcade, you guys played all sorts of games, air hockey, tried your luck at a pachinko machine and Tendou even tried the basketball game, which he surprisingly good at that he won a lot of tickets getting you a small rubiks cube, but near the back of the arcade something caught your eye, a purikura, Tendou saw where your eyes went and with a small smile he took your hand and walked towards the machine, and ushered you in the booth, he felt at comfortable around you, he would’ve never guessed that you were a crack head like, random outbursts of ideas and thoughts spouted from you made him laugh as you spent time together. He quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, a flash went off, that was the first shot, with the blush creeping on your cheeks you hid your face under your hair and hugged him another flash went off, that was the second shot, he tipped you head up, making you look at him, his infectious smile directed at you as another flash went off, and the last shot was of him kissing your forehead. You were left speechless after that whole scenario, seemingly in a dazed as he guided you out and grab the prints of the photos. That’s how you guys ended the date, he held your hand in his all the way back to the dorms, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek as you parted ways.

Rummaging further through the memory box, you see all the mementos you both kept from your dates, a few fallen leaves, a couple of pretty rocks, stickers, napkins, flowers, pictures, the cork from the bottle of champagne you drank at your wedding. More tears fell from your eyes as you dug through all the stuff in the box, who knew you both collected a lot of things in just a couple of years. What made you sob so hard was the acceptance letters you both got when you were selected as the few students for the incoming year.

A few months before graduation, you both got accepted into a culinary school in Tokyo, you were ecstatic as this means you and Tendou could get a place together since your parents already gave you two a small amount to get a place near the school so you two could still practice and create new dishes together, it was really no surprise to your friends or the whole volleyball team that you two would get into culinary school, you’ve always had a thing for cooking, you’d often come their practices with some bento boxes for all of the guys so they don’t have to go out and spend for food, on the weekends, the kitchen was his domain he’d let you watch him bake and oftentimes let you help him out. It’s often that the whole group get together during the weekends, you cooking for them while Tendou makes that dessert. For some reason, they got jealous of how your relationship started, it was as if all the pieces just fell into place at the right time, you two together just seemed right like you two were always suppose to be with each other. There’s always been a carefree air around him, it calmed you down so much that it helped you be more open or that’s how you saw it. You were the opposite of him always worrying, always, over thinking, being overly critical of your actions and how you overwhelmed with everything so you turned to anything that’ll help you divert your mind but once he was in your life it just got easier. He voice would immediately calm the voices spewing negative thoughts I had your head.

Looking around your room, you see pictures of you together, your graduation picture, the picture of you guys on the front of the school, the picture of your guys graduating culinary school, a photo of you two at the restaurant where you two both apprenticed and next to that was the candid shot of his proposal there, a mix of joy and hurt shoot through you as you the memory come rushing back to you.

The way he sheepishly confessed that he asked the manager if he could do his proposal there and invite your family and friends for that surprise. “Hey y/n, come with me, a customer just complained about the sauce you made being too salty, I’m not taking blame for that!” an angry chef came shouting at you, shocked and anxiousness dunning through you, you timidly follow behind him, thinking how you could screw up a simple sauce like that, your thoughts were everywhere, but once you stepped outside the kitchen you noted that the dining area was dimmer then usual, but maybe that’s because you’re used to the bright lights of the kitchen, you hear a soft melody playing, it’s one of your favourite songs ‘I Choose' you’ve always related that song to your relationship. On the far wall you see photos of you together, looking around you see familiar faces, his and your parents, your friends, the Shiratorizawa boys were there even the coach came!

The euphoria you felt from having everyone who had been part of your relationship through the ups and downs just had you in tears, your head was fuzzy with the mix of a dozen emotions swirling in you, through a blur of tears you see him kneeling in front of you, he let out a huff of breath to calm his nerves before asking you the question “y/n, my love, my baby, my better half, my paradise. You’ve stuck by my side through my highs and lows, loved me unconditionally, took care of me whenever I got sick, urged me to follow my dreams, guided me into being a better guy, especially with my chocolate making you supported my dreams like no other can, you, you made my world complete, you made me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, you gave me your heart to cherish and protect. You made my life whole” the words flowed out of his mouth so freely, every word making more tears come out of you, every word so heartfelt, with shakey hands we presented you a pear cut yellow emerald ring “My Paradise, would you do me the honor of being my paradise for eternity?” no words could express how happy you were nodding your head, trying to stop happy tears from falling a hushed ‘yes’ slips past you lips as he stands to slip the ring on your left hand, pulling you in for a tight hug, whispering endless I love you’s and thank you in your ears as the people around you cheered for the newly engaged couple.

Biting back another sob, you feel fresh tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes land on your wedding photo above the bed, he loved you enough to marry you, he was yours and you were his, you can’t help but stare at the framed photo, he had that infectious smile of his that made you fall from him the day you saw him. He has you up in his arms as your arms were wrapped around his neck, pecking a sweet kiss on his cheek. You asked him many times if he’d like to blowup another photo from your wedding, he simply shook his head and wrapped you up in his arms “you’re perfect in any picture of us, but in that one you look like the most perfect human being in existence and I’m just lucky to have you in my life” you basked in his love and affection on those simple words pulling him closer and burying you face on his chest, inhaling his sweet scent “I’m lucky to have you Tori, lucky to be called your wife” placing a chaste kiss on his chest as you look up to him with love-struck eyes. This was it you guys moved countries after your wedding to France since Tendou was offered a job at a famous pâtisserie there, all you wanted was your husband happy, wherever you guys may be.

You never really cared where you two were, as long as you were together, you could get lessons on the French cuisine as Tendou works, that was the plan before you guys flew out. You worked hard to learn the basics, you’d often have Tendou taste test all your creations and you’ll you the same for him since he likes to experiment with different flavor combinations, things were great the first few months of moving cross countries, you enrolled in a cooking classes there to build up your repertoire and after a few weeks of learning a few new techniques you've decided to look around for places you could work at just to keep your body busy again. You've decorated the apartment the way you liked it and how you think Tendou would like it, just adding different odds and ends giving it a familiar vibe. This place was your starting ground.

When you got a job at the nearby bistro, Tendou didn’t really mind it, since he’d often come home a bit later then usual saying something along the lines of making things in the experiment lab with the other chocolatiers at the shop to have something new for the upcoming season, in turn you thought nothing of it since you do work nights after getting a gig in a restaurant in town as well, it also means you could still have time to make his dinner and keep it warm for when he gets home. You two actually got into an argument when you got that gig since Tendou was adamant about keeping you in the apartment after the morning shift at the bistro so you don’t work yourself too hard, he wanted to start thinking about getting a kitten to keep you company when he’s out working but you argued back that you didn’t wanna feel like mooching off of him even though he said it was fine, he loved coming home to a warm meal that you made with love and gets more time to spend with you, but he did cave in after a few bats of your eyelashes.

It was perfect, you both were doing what you were passionate about, you two scheduled your offs near each other’s so one could take care of each other after a long day. But there was this weird feeling creeping in you but you simply don’t know why it was there, you and Tendou always kept communication open since you two do work different shifts and that itself puts a strain in the relationship but you two made it work. You loved him. So you would really sacrifice anything for him, he had have a rough childhood, he was bullied cause he looked different, acted different, but he wasn’t like that for you, he never was, even though he had a wicked sense for things which really surprised you, you can’t even hide a gift from him cause he knew what you’d get him or more likely sense what you’ll give him.

You don’t tell him that you swapped shifts with someone so you technically have a day off so you decided to drop by the pâtisserie where Tendou worked with some home made Pan Bagnat since it was nearing lunch, as you were close to the shop you saw his figure near the window placing new confections on display, but something made you stop, another person, a female chocolatier, was hugging him from behind and not in a friendly way, there was familiarity to it, it looked as if she’s been hugging him for so long, like she’s always hugged him, you didn’t notice that you’ve dropped the basket you were holding on the sidewalk, the glass bottle shattering on impact, the sangria spilling on the pavement, the sandwich you made, making a mess, the fruits you packed rolling in every direction. People around gasped at the scene, some tried to help in picking up the fruits that escaped, your mind in thought again, maybe you just interpreted it wrongly they’re just so so close, like a brother and sister kinda way, since they both work in the shop, you simply jumped to conclusions too fast, those thought completely vanished as the next sight you saw.

She kissed him. SHE KISSED HIM!! Your mind played that in your head like it was a song played on a loop. That was what made your heart break, that was the tipping point, he didn’t push her away, it was the opposite, he pulled her closer, the way he held her mirrored how he would hold you when he came home from work, people around you were asking you things trying to snap you out of your trance but you paid no mind to them, your legs moving on their own.

It was as if you were on autopilot, you got home, your mind racing with so many thoughts, how long had that been going on? Is she why he’d come home later than usual, is she the reason he had woken up earlier to get to work everyday? Did he spend his days off with her when you suddenly get shifts? Walking into your apartment, you didn’t know what to think, how to feel, how to make sense of things more questions come into your mind. Does he bring her here? Did they do anything sexual in the place you called home? What places were safe? Did she please him better than I did? You walked into your bedroom where the memory box laid in the middle of bed. It was your first wedding anniversary, did he really forget? Your anniversary was engraved on your wedding rings with your initials on it.

A scream of agony escaped your lips as everywhere you looked at it was all you and him the very place you thought was the safest of all was not. It's tainted with infidelity, your heart broke even more as you took the box from the bed with shaking hands contemplating on whether to open the box or not, he loved you with every part of him didn’t he? You were enough weren’t you? You made sure he was satisfied right? You gave him all the love you could and even more right? Didn’t he promise you that he’d protect your heart? You're still his paradise right? He loves you right?

Maybe opening the box, and finding something that you both placed in there would make him rethink his choices right? With broken sobs and uneven breathing, your fingers shaking as you pulled the pretty red ribbon that held the lid shut, looking at all the things that you both collected that reminded you both that you loved each other you broke even more. Every one of them held the promise of love, of fidelity, of trust. But now, a part of you is doubting every word that passed his lips, every kiss that landed on your skin made you feel dirty, every I love you's he uttered seems like a lie. You didn’t want to feel that way, you love him with every part of your being, you’re THE Mrs. Satori Tendou, no one else but you had that title, just you, it was only you right? You were his paradise for eternity right? Right?

★──────────★───────────────★─────────★

I hope you guys liked this, I actually really liked working on this one(played my brokenhearts plays it nonstop for it) , but I do have another one coming so...yeah!

Song inspiration :Anong Nangyari Sa Ating Dalawa by Aiza Seguerra

Song used in the proposal I Choose by Alessia Cara

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snapefiction · 3 years

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Phases of the Moon Pt.1 - Snapeficition

A/N: This one is something I kept in my drafts for some time now but kind of still really like so I spontaneously wanted to post it. I hope you like it!

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Word count: 1321

Pairing: Severus Snape x Orphan!Y/N Flitwick

TW: Struggling Mental Health, Mention of Addiction, Mention of Torture

Phases of the Moon Pt.1

,,Are you even paying Attention, Severus?" Looking up he felt his burning, watery eyes paining him.

,,Yes, of course, Headmaster." He hasn't slept in days. To be exact in literally 68 hours which lead him to slowly going mental.

,,I know it's a lot but remember your promise-" Dumbledore started but Severus just nodded panicking.

,,Yes I am listening. I am listening." Almost begging he sat up again and wiped over his face to gain the imagination of wiping away his tiredness.

,,You made this promise."Dumbledore stated before continuing about his next Plan. Hours later after he prepared everything for his next Mission which would in conclusion would lead to his final death one day he fell onto his bed. His hammering Head wasn't shutting up. 73 Hours. Three days and one hour and he couldn't sleep? Ironic. Usually he liked staying awake for so long. Sometimes his paranoia took over and he forgot everything for a while. His body shut down so much that he finally could forget his degrading reality. But not tonight. Thinking about just taking a sleeping potion he quickly cancelled that idea. He took it way too often. He slowly became addictive to the magical relief. A walk would eventually do it, he deeply hoped.

Dragging himself through the corridors he had the feeling of not being a human anymore. Was he anything at all at this point? The Years of being a double agent left their traces and marks. Physically but also mentally. His Body aged quickly, leaving him in constant pain. But his mental pain was much worse. Having multiple panic attacks on the daily were just some of the milder things.

Thinking back to the first time he witnessed the dark Lord torturing someone he felt his stomach turning around. The screams still echoed in his ears and the imagine hunted him down in his sleep. It was cruel.

,,Severus? Are you alright?" A voice which wasn't more than a whisper made his head shoot up. Forgetting his thoughts trying to cope with the situation he nodded. Y/N Flitwick. Filius niece stood in front of him. His eyes had trouble identifying her as they had developed a film of tears.

,,Oh dear..."

-Y/N -

Wandering down the corridors you hoped no one would spot you as you tried to sneak out. You had trouble falling asleep during this phase of the moon and decided to get your mind off this stress somehow.

Hearing footsteps nearing you quickly casted Nox to stay undercover but as you discovered a familiar face you quickly casted Lumos again. His dark hair wasn't flowing anymore it were strands and his eyes weren't reflective but hallow and dull. All in all he seemed to be not well but like a living dead.

,,Severus? Are you alright?" As if he hasn't noticed you yet he quickly looked up but his eyes darted through you processing the sight. A weak nod was followed by a small sigh as he lowered his wand he held up as well to light his way.

,,Oh dear..." His hands were shaking so much you wondered if he was having a incident or got attacked. Pity bid your heart and you sorted your endless thoughts for a second. Racing one after one you stopped as you had a merge plan on how to continue as Severus didn't seem to be very approachable.

,,Severus, do you need help? I can guide you to Madame Pomfrey any second."

,,No." His voice was so silent you almost mistook it for your thoughts.

,,Do you need something?" Shifting in your shoes his presence made you feel tired too.

,,If it's not too much to ask- some company?" For a spare second a small smile crept up your face. Severus wasn't able to keep his eyes properly open but asked for you to accompany him. Nodding you agreed stuttering.

,,Of course. I was on my way to the old Astronomy Tower. Would you like to follow me?"

,,Lead the way." He cleared his throat slightly. Tugging your Coat tighter around yourself you made sure that Severus was still following and alright. Of course just from the distance and quietly but you could tell that he was thankful to not be alone anymore. Which was quite odd since you got to know to a dark, powerful, and mysterious man and not the one who was so weak you feared that he’d fall over any second.

After taking the last few steps you sighed as you spotted the overview. This Place always made you feel safe and hidden. Sitting down The small steps You signed Severus to do the same. His tall figure just sank down on his own. He looked around, his whole presence seemed to relax and a small smile was visible just for a moment.

His Shoulder leaned against the stone wall and his knees were still close to his chest. He wasn't really sitting but crouching. Somehow he was looking peaceful just now. Eyes flickering he quickly drove off to a deep slumber. Would anyone believe you if you told them that the feared Professor just fell asleep next to you? Probably not. The strange feeling that something wasn't right didn't let you go so you didn't dared to move or read the book that rested on the inside of your jacket pocket. You just watched the sky through the tall ceiling and imagined what a life at Hogwarts must be like.

Visiting your Uncle over the Holidays was always fun as you haven't grew up in the Magical world but as a Muggle. Learning late about you magical heritage you almost felt overwhelmed by this new world laying down to your feet. Filius quickly offered to teach you as often as he found some time which was just the case Right now again. Small Spells like Lumos and Nox were easy for you but still you struggled with Charms in General like the whole understanding of this world. The only person who never seemed to talk down on you was Severus. He picked you up on your first Holiday in Hogsmead and lead you to Filius. Severus wasn't very talkative but a good listener. And somehow it made you feel like he understood. Not the Charms Disaster , as how your Uncle called it, but the whole Situation on it's own.

Whenever Severus noticed how much you struggled and how Filius was close to throw his wand at you he invited you gently to a Potions Lesson which included drinking tea and reading notes that Severus collected to each Potion from the Textbook. He was a Saviour on it's own. You've spent so much time with him and still didn't knew anything about himself. Hogwarts was a weird Place sometimes. Not to mention the Wizards and Witches living there.

Discovering that you had a second Uncle who introduced you to your greatest Fairytales was impressive. Born without a family and after so many years getting dragged into another world was - let's call it a lot.

So it happened very often that you had to flee somewhere no one would look after you. The small spot on the steps at the Astrology Tower hid you well like a secret. That's why you thought Severus would appreciate it too. Looking down on him you saw that his head sunk down low. Deep breaths left his lungs and as some air strikes his slim figure you took of your Coat to cover him. At first he shivered but then continued to sleep. Maybe you could give him back some of the trustful feeling he offered you some time ago? You really hoped so. But for now the figures of the two of you were consumed by the Phases of the Moon. And this is how it began. Slow but steady. How your loyal friendship started and how trust bonded.

to be continued. 15.April.21

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halfrest · 3 years

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* emilija baranac, demi woman + she/her | you know siobhan ivers, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a couple days? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to manta rays chloe moriondo like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole tears lit under grocery store fluorescents, existing in your mind as a hollowed space, and manicured hands riddled in pen marks thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is september 27th, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

pinterest.

background wise, she’s the daughter of former child actors that fell in love and had her quite young. then they grew into early-2000s reality tv star fame where they played the part of the young hip cool parents, toting siobhan around in the midst of drama amongst other washed-out former child stars. the show only lasted for a few years, but it made up most of siobhan’s toddler life. from then on, her parents got involved in different facets of media. her mom jumped on family vlogs, kept up a huge social media presence as instagram and the sort rolled around. her dad got involved in a company like buzzfeed as a producer? it might as well just be actual buzzfeed? sue me. but anyway, they had money and a pretty great lifestyle just based on their past fame, but i wouldn’t say their family is notoriously famous by any means. there’s probably a small fanbase from their heyday and now they’re basically a Family of the Internet. moms that like to wear knee high suede boots are obsessed with them!

siobhan grew up in this sort of flashy, always on the move, los angeles socialite-esque lifestyle tho! so yes, she’s insufferable! that being said after her time in the limelight as a 3 year-old baby...she was probably forced into the usual things like gap baby campaigns <3 n other miscellaneous stuff that kept her face out there as the lovechild of america’s sweethearts <3 in a way every single aspect of her life was sort of on show for everyone!

as she grew older, she began to resent her upbringing. she didn’t like that people felt like they knew her just bc of her parents. she didn’t like that she was a sort of trophy on display (altho this is quite a dramatic way of her to look at it...her parents were doting altho i’ll also admit that at times it was an extremely suffocating amount). but either way siobhan ended up with a warped view of the world. a constant struggle between figuring out who she really was vs. how people viewed her.

siobhan’s tried on many hats (metaphorically) thru her life just to help her grasp onto something more substantial in her life. writing quickly became her One True Love. in a way it was for her to get her thoughts out there in a safe way where she was the only one in charge of her words. it’s admittedly gotten out of hand! like aaron eckhart once said in a batman movie “u either die a hero or u live long enough to see urself become the villain.” i’m kidding but going back to siobhan’s warped view of the world/social media... in a move she thought was So Powerful she decided to take the narrative back into her own hands. and by that, she meant building up a substantial social media following. she has two twitters and two instagrams. one twitter and instagram is her public self curated n all under the username @siobhanivers (saved by her parents immediately). the second is sort of her sad girl twitter/finsta where she tries 2 keep things secretive and on the DL but everyone knows it’s her? the username for that is @yrworstgirl (edgy!!!!!!!). she goes on long rants about stuff. posts ab everything w long-winded captions ( parallels to having her own life all over the internet but still continuing the trend in a different way ). very weird relationship with social media as a whole. but i guess the way she was raised On The Internet does that to u sometimes.

as a person...siobhan’s quite intense.....for a lot of reasons. she has a lot of feelings about a lot of things that are expressed in different ways, not all the healthiest but it’s to cope. <3 figuring herself out is still an issue so u can catch her slipping into different selves and starting new regimens which she may drop or continue with. the stuff she’s doing this week is probably drastically different from the stuff she’s doing last week.....she likes to consider herself cultured n is always listening, reading, watching something Grand (i can’t relate so i can’t rp this out?). has good intentions despite all of the intensity. always willing to speak up for someone if she thinks they r being wronged in some way. big on social justice. very loud! likes to b social. has a problem where she can get fixated on a person for a bit but wants to be loved :pensive: but also doesn’t :pensive: no she does....does she? yes she does.

anxiety / she does have problems w anxiety and occasional panic attacks just from the pressure she puts on herself n just always being under scrutiny. sometimes she has it handled. sometimes she doesn’t. leaves it vague x / end tw

she’s into journalism n thats what she went to college for. this is real writing unlike her dad’s buzzfeed gig. spits. pretentious fuck. she has her own blog on top of things where she writes articles n sometimes she’s been able to get into magazines. she’s trying to develop her own small online publication but that’s pending. she likes to write about people in her life, her feelings, n she’s very candid about things to an extreme at times. she has a series where she writes about her sexcapades? no names mention but u know who it’s about, she knows who it’s about. it can b good or bad. it’s just a lot. probably involved in the school paper to an extent. probably involved in other stuff too.

at irving for A Lot of reasons. she’s writing a book. i won’t say anymore. bt also….she has to deal with some ghosts of her pasts (ambiguous). she lives at a beach house w cecilia n [insert anna muse].

#irvingintro #anxiety tw #Here She Is ( ominous vc )

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xomarauders · 3 years

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hello everyone,

it has been far too long since i have posted anything on here and for that i apologize, but i have been working on some of my own writing as well as just dealing with personal stuff so please forgive me.

i also might be changing this blog up a bit and start posting more than just marauders fanfiction (such as some of my own writing perhaps). i’m still not sure about this idea because i don’t really want to change my user name or anything and i do want to contiue writing fics so we’ll see!

anyway, without further ado, here is my latest fic for yall :) hope you enjoy! (p.s. there is a second part coming!!!)

tw: internalized homophobia, implied child abuse, depictions of a panic attack

The cold December air was harsh against Marlene’s skin as she stood outside the small record shop she had been frequenting since she was fourteen. It was tucked away in the side of a building in London, offering solace to those who did not seem to fit in with the more fast-paced, business-like folk you so often saw among the sidewalks. The cigarette in her hand was offering little warmth but seemed to be calming her nerves, so she stayed outside to finish smoking it. It was winter break from Hogwarts and Marlene was relieved to be away from school for the time being as well as away from her friends. She couldn’t face them at the moment. Not after what she did.

Marlene rolled her eyes at herself for thinking of things she’d rather forget and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the toe of her combat boot. With one last glance toward the busy street, she retreated into the record shop which greeted her immediately with the chime of a bell and rock music playing throughout the speakers of the store.

A man at the register with short, dirty blonde hair and rings through his eyebrows glanced up at her entrance, a smile appearing on his face.

“Marlene! Haven’t seen you in a while.” He commented, swinging his legs over the counter and making his way toward her. Marlene gave a non-committal shrug but returned the high-five he offered her with semi frozen fingers.

“How has business been, Curtis?” She asked, glancing around the nearly empty shop. There was no one else in there aside from the two of them and Marlene felt her heart break just a little bit. This was one of her favorite places to be, a place she and her friends would escape to during the summer to be with one another. She wondered if their absence was the reason for her melancholic mood.

“It hasn’t been bad. Just caught me on a slow day.” Curtis replied, seeming to notice Marlene’s shift in behavior. “Lily was in here the other day, actually. Got herself a few new albums.”

Marlene looked up at the mention of Lily and felt her cheeks burn slightly. She wondered if Lily had mentioned anything about the incident to Curtis. Judging by the passive look on his face, she assumed not and tried to school her own expression into a neutral one.

“Yeah? What albums?”

After Curtis introduced her to the new music Lily had gotten, Marlene picked up a few albums of her own to purchase before leaving the shop to get back home. She would have stayed to visit with Curtis longer, but she didn’t want to linger in a space that reminded her so much of her friends at the moment and she especially didn’t want to run into them anytime soon.

It was a bit of a walk to the closest floo station and the London streets were bustling with people walking home from work or coming out for the night. Marlene kept her head down, staring at the pavement in front of her and wrapping her jacket tightly around herself, blocking out the bitter cold as best she could. Suddenly, a body collided against her and she fell backwards, dropping her records in the process.

“What the fu—?” Marlene was cut off by the commotion of being pulled off the sidewalk and dragged into a nearby alley way.

She looked up, ready to scream insults at her attacker, but stopped at the sight of Sirius Black’s face. His hair was tied up in a bun, though most of it seemed to have fallen out, and there was a wide look of panic in his eyes that matched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was trembling finely and looked ready to pass out as he glanced behind him in a paranoid manner. It seemed as though he was running from something. Or someone.

“Sirius?” Marlene asked, keeping her voice low. She turned to look in the direction where Sirius was peering and spotted two men seemingly searching the crowd. Her eyebrows raised. There was something off about the two men…they did not fit in with the rest of the crowd, the clothes they wore were different, not really matching and the confused, disgusted looks on their faces made them stick out like sore thumbs. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks—they were wizards trying to blend in with a muggle crowd. Purebloods, to be exact.

She whirled around to look at Sirius once more. “Sirius, who are those men?” She hissed, desperate to know what kind of danger they could possibly be in. Rumors about dark wizards had begun circulating around Hogwarts for months now. Followers of Voldemort that had begun to call themselves “Death Eaters” were threatening the lives of muggleborns, though Marlene had never actually seen any such wizard. Until now, she supposed.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Sirius said, completely ignoring her question. He looked down towards the other end of the alley to see a chain link fence and cursed. They were trapped it seemed and Marlene felt herself begin to panic.

“Sirius,” She said, her voice urgent, though she wasn’t sure what she was pleading for.

He turned to her once more, gripping her shoulders tightly and staring at her intently. “I have an idea, but you have to promise me that you won’t breathe a word of this to anybody, do you understand?”

Marlene nodded and then watched with complete shock and awe as Sirius disappeared, a large, black dog appearing in his place. Animagus, she realized with a jolt. The dog turned away, walking back down the alley before turning and barking at Marlene, as if motioning for her to follow. She blinked a few times, still shocked at the sudden change of events, before following him back into the streets. He stopped where she had dropped her records and Marlene bent down to pick them up, a slight frown playing on her lips at the sight of the bent corners of the packaging. She was just about to scold Sirius when a rough voice behind her cleared their throat. She looked up, just as Sirius growled, to see the two men from earlier standing there.

The men did not seem to pay attention to the dog, focusing their gaze solely on Marlene instead. She tried to keep her face neutral, raising a single eyebrow in their direction. “Can I help you?”

“Have you seen a boy run through here?” The shorter of the two men asked, his lip curling in disgust. The other man eyed Marlene warily, taking in her muggle attire and turning his nose up at the mere sight. Marlene tried not to roll her eyes.

“No.” She replied, sounding calmer than she felt.

The two men shared a look, as if trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth, before nodding their understanding and moving past her without another word. Marlene felt as Sirius curled around her legs, watching as they disappeared around the corner before letting out a victorious bark. She looked down at him, shaking her head.

“I suppose you need somewhere to hide for a while?”

Another yelp and wag of his tale gave Marlene all the answers she needed.

****

“Well, this is home.” Marlene said with a sigh, dropping her records onto her bed with a soft thud. Sirius—still in his canine form—sniffed around before cocking his head in her direction and allowing his tongue to roll out of his mouth. Marlene wrinkled her nose at the slobber. “I think you are safe to go back to your usual…form. Unless you’re stuck that is.”

Again, Marlene watched in amazement as Sirius came back to himself, a shiver running through his body as he grinned at her. “Nice room you’ve got, McKinnon. Am I the first boy you’ve brought home?”

“Care to explain what just happened?” She asked, not caring for the way he seemed to avoid explaining himself.

Sirius shrugged, moving toward the desk in the corner of the room and running his fingers down the various artwork Marlene had spread out there. A look of wonder shined in his eyes as he delicately examined the paintings and drawings as if they were some sort of precious treasure. He stopped at a particular piece of a woman’s face done with charcoal pencil and Marlene felt herself blush at the way he traced the strokes that molded her lips.

“These are wonderful. Who did them?”

“I did.”

Sirius turned, his eyebrows raised with surprise and admiration. “Really? I didn’t know you were an artist.”

She stood up, marching over to where he stood, and removed the drawing from his grasp, shoving it beneath the rest of the art, effectively obscuring it from his wandering eyes, before turning to face him once more.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Black.”

She did not miss the way he seemed to flinch away from her before shaking it off and plastering another smirk across his face. “Touché.” He spoke quietly.

Marlene felt a jolt of guilt in her gut, feeling bad for snapping at him. He was merely admiring her work. He did not understand the context of her drawing and likely wouldn’t make the connection. Afterall, he did not live in her mind where all the confusing thoughts and doubts resided. He could not possibly know her dirty little secret.

“Just…tell me what happened back there. Do I need to be afraid that someone might follow you here?” She asked, changing the topic.

“Those were the Lestrange brothers. Rabastan and Rodolphus. Purebloods. Family friends.”

“Why were they looking for you?”

“Because I may have said something rather…deplorable at my dear cousin’s engagement party.” Sirius said it with a grin, but Marlene noticed the flicker of fear in his eyes.

Marlene vaguely knew about the Black family and the way they presented themselves. Most of her ideas about them came from the mere reactions Sirius had whenever someone brought the prestigious bloodline. He was always loud about it, shouting about how stuck up they were in the Gryffindor common room and how grateful he was that he had not followed in their footsteps and ended up in Slytherin. She also knew that they were blood purists, believing that muggles were beneath them.

From what she had gathered, she was not a fan of them.

“Is there any way they can find you here?” Marlene asked, unwilling to allow her family to become endangered for hiding a self-proclaimed fugitive. Sirius just laughed, shaking his head so that his hair flung about. Marlene would have found it amusing how much it reminded her of a dog if it were under difference circumstances.

“I doubt they would. Going into muggle London was bad enough for them, they’re not going to continue their search in a muggle neighborhood.”

Marlene did not get the chance to ask what Sirius planned to do next due to the sound of the front door opening and her family announcing their presence.

“Marls!” Her father shouted up the steps. “We’re home!”

“Come down and tell us how your trip to London was. Your brother has been pestering me all afternoon about not letting him go with you.” Her mother spoke with a laugh and Marlene heard her brother scoff indignantly.

Marlene turned to Sirius, pointing a finger at him and giving him the best glare that she could. “Be on your best behavior. Go along with everything I say, are we clear?” Sirius just nodded, unwilling to cross her and with a final nod Marlene turned to exit the room with Sirius following closely behind. As they entered the living area, Marlene watched as her brother’s eyes went wide at the sight of Sirius.

“Mum! Marlene’s brought a friend home!” He announced. The McKinnon’s turned, a look of surprise on each of their faces at the sight of the young man standing in their home. Marlene’s mother turned to her and offered a hesitant smile.

“Marlene, who’s your friend?”

“Mum, dad, this is Sirius. He goes to school with me.”

Her father instantly lit up, clasping her hands together as he plopped down on the sofa. “Another wizard! How nice to meet you, young man. I’m Grant McKinnon, but you can just call me Grant.” He offered Sirius a hand and Marlene tried her best not to smirk as Sirius suddenly stood up a bit straighter and shook her fathers’ hand as if he were meeting the Queen.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir. Lovely home you have here.”

“What a gentleman.” Her mother laughed lightly. “I’m Lottie.”

This time, Marlene had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing as she watched Sirius gently kiss her mother’s hand. Merlin, he really was a posh bastard.

“I’m Freddie.” Her brother greeted, not wanting to be left out, and Sirius’s eyes lit up.

“Like Freddie Mercury?”

“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Just as Marlene was about to interrupt to give an explanation as to why Sirius was there in the first place, her family initiated a game of twenty questions directed toward the poor boy.

“So, you go to Hogwarts then?” Lottie asked, an easy smile playing on her lips. She moved to sit by her husband, smoothing out her yellow sun dress as she did so. Sirius nodded, a proud smile appearing on his face.

“Yes. Sorted into Gryffindor, just like Marlene.”

Grant leaned forward; an eyebrow raised. “That’s the one with the lion, right?”

Marlene rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Dad, you know it is.”

Her father merely laughed, raising his hands in defense as he leaned back once more. “I just want to make sure! I never went to Hogwarts now did I?”

“Oh, did you go to Beaubaxtons?” Sirius asked and Marlene cringed.

“Oxford, actually.” Her father answered easily, and Sirius glanced at Marlene with clear confusion on his face. Grant didn’t seem to mind though, catching on to what Sirius wasn’t fully understanding. “I don’t have magic, son.”

Sirius’s eyes went wide for the hundredth time that day it seemed, and he grinned wickedly. “You’re a muggle.” He stated as if he had just made a new discovery. Marlene got the impression that Sirius had never really spoken to a muggle before now.

“You’re pureblood then, Sirius?” Marlene’s mother asked, quickly connecting the dots of Sirius’s curiosity.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah I am.” Sirius shifted a bit uncomfortably and Lottie frowned at the sudden change in behavior.

“I was the only witch in my family.” Lottie continued, changing the subject. “Was sorted into Ravenclaw at Hogwarts.”

“That’s what I’m going to be.” Freddie piped up, puffing his chest out in perfect eight-year old fashion. Marlene rolled her eyes.

“You still have three more years and there’s no guarantee you’ll follow in mum’s footsteps.”

Freddie narrowed his eyebrows and glared at Marlene. “But I want to be a Ravenclaw.”

“You can be whatever you want to be, mate.” Sirius said solemnly and Marlene found herself surprised at the sincerity in Sirius’s voice. She had never known Sirius to behave in such ways at school, often getting into trouble and shouting about loudly and animatedly. What he said had seemed to be an acceptable answer for Freddie, though, who beamed right back at Sirius.

“Sirius needs a place to stay.” Marlene blurted suddenly, and everyone’s attention turned toward her once more. Her mother gave her a dubious look, waiting patiently for an explanation while her father seemed to not even question the notion.

“For how long?” Grant asked.

“Oh. Uh, you don’t have to do that, sir. I’ll be okay on my own.”

Lottie leaned forward, reaching out for Sirius who instantly flinched in return, causing her to draw her hands back quickly, a stunned look on her face at his reaction. She cleared her throat and fixed him with a serious look. “It’s not problem if you need somewhere to sleep, Sirius. I would just like a reason and an idea of how long you would be staying.”

Sirius glanced at Marlene hesitantly. Clearly, he had not planned on staying here but he also had not planned on going home. Had he assumed that she would kick him to the streets? Perhaps that was what he had intended to do all along. Marlene frowned at the idea of Sirius wandering aimlessly about London, probably in his Animagus form, just to hide away from his family. She wondered how terrible they must be for him to resort to such a thing.

Marlene turned back to her parents, a resolute look on her face. “However long he needs.”

****

Grant quickly set up a cot for Sirius in Freddie’s bedroom—who was far too excited to have a roommate for the time being—and Sirius offered his thanks every five minutes with Grant dismissing it with a wave of his hand stating “it’s just what we do, son.”

Marlene was preparing for bed in her own room when a tentative knock came from the door. “Come in.”

Her mother walked in, shutting the door behind her with a soft click before making herself comfortable on Marlene’s bed. She looked at Marlene with a curious but open expression and Marlene found herself wondering if her mother could see right through her.

“Is Sirius…someone you fancy?” She asked, and Marlene realized that perhaps her mother couldn’t see her at all.

“No.” She answered honestly, and her mother nodded, accepting the answer without question. Lottie still sat there though, mulling something around in her brain it seemed before letting it out.

“Is he in trouble?”

Marlene considered her mother’s question. The truth was that Marlene really wasn’t sure if Sirius was in trouble or not. It could just be him being his usual dramatic self and getting a kick out of ruining some extravagant family function, but somehow it felt different. The look of pure fear in his eyes when they were in that alley way was burned into her mind.

“I don’t know.” She said finally, her voice sounding more childish than she cared for. Her mother sighed, standing up and opening her arms which Marlene gratefully fell into. She closed her eyes, grateful that her parents were who they were. That they were so accepting and helpful towards everyone. It made her proud to be their daughter. She wondered idly if they would be accepting of everything or if there was some unforeseen limit to which their compassion reached.

Marlene thought about the events that occurred just a few days ago. The firewhiskey her and her friends had indulged in, intent on having one last night of fun before leaving each other for the winter holiday. She thought about the tingly feeling in her stomach as she leaned forward, placing her lips against Lily’s. She thought about the shocked look on Lily’s face and the small sound of surprise that came from Alice’s mouth. She thought about how she ran away before she could even give her friends a chance to ridicule her for her actions.

It had been eating at her ever since, and now, as her mother held her in her arms, she wondered how she would react to the idea of her daughter liking girls.

“Mum?” Marlene asked, her heart rate picking up speed and hands starting to shake.

“Yes, dear?” Lottie pulled back, a look of concern on her face.

Marlene felt her throat close up, blocking off the words she wanted to confess. I can’t do this. Not now.

“Never mind.” She breathed, looking down at her feet instead of meeting her mother’s gaze. Lottie lingered there a moment, debating whether or not to push the subject. In the end, she just hugged Marlene tighter and smoothed out her hair.

“Okay. But you can always come talk to me whenever you need, okay?” Lottie kissed her daughter’s forehead and went to leave the room, turning in the doorway just before exiting. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, mum.”

As her mother left, Marlene crawled into bed, huddling deeply beneath the blankets and turning to face the wall, finally allowing her tears to fall.

****

Marlene awoke to a frantic knocking on her door. She shot up in bed, immediately reaching for her wand and pointing it towards the doorway. What if it was the Lestranges? What if they had followed Marlene and Sirius straight to her home? What if it were the Blacks themselves, here to take their runaway heir home and punish those who gave him sanctuary?

“Marls! Open the door, it’s Freddie!”

A feeling of relief as well as slight irritation flooded through her. Freddie was tolerable most of the time, but waking her up in the middle of the night was definitely not a way to get on Marlene’s good side.

“What do you want, Mercury?” She asked as she swung the door open. Freddie was standing there, his hands twisted together and his face painted with worry and fear that immediately caused Marlene’s sour attitude toward her brother to vanish. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Sirius. He won’t stop shaking and, and I thought he was having a nightmare and so I went over to shake him awake and he…he freaked out! He screamed and pushed me away and now he’s huddled in the corner and he won’t stop crying and—”

Marlene pushed past her brother and moved down the hallway towards his bedroom. When she got there, the cot was flipped over and the blankets were in a tangled mess on the floor. Sirius was pressed against the wall, his knees tucked up against his chest and his hands pulling anxiously at his hair. He was muttering something Marlene couldn’t quite make out but whatever it was, he sounded utterly terrified. Marlene turned to Freddie who had followed closely behind her.

“Go get mom.”

Freddie nodded and raced away, seemingly grateful about being given a task. Marlene turned her attention back to Sirius. He hadn’t even noticed the two of them had come into the room, too lost in whatever memory he was reliving. Marlene had heard about this sort of behavior before, when her dad spoke of her grandfather and the effects the war had on him. The panicked breathing and dissociation that blinded a person to their realities were sure signs of post-traumatic stress, she was sure. She was also sure she that she was way out of her depth to properly break Sirius out of it, but she’d be dammed if she didn’t try.

“Sirius,” She spoke slowly, inching towards him before kneeling in front of him. He shook harder, his breath coming out in pants. Merlin, he was going to make himself pass out.

“Hey,” She grabbed his hand and he recoiled with a scream.

“No! No, please! Please don’t, it hurts.” He whimpered. Marlene felt sick and uncomfortable. This was not the Sirius Black she knew. This was a scared and hurt little boy that Marlene could not help.

“What is it?” Marlene turned. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her father and brother right behind her. She watched as Lottie’s eyes found Sirius and she motioned for Marlene to move away. Marlene obliged, standing, and watching her mother crouch down in her place.

“Sirius, sweetie? It’s Lottie. Marlene’s mom, remember?” He didn’t respond but Lottie didn’t seem deterred.

“Breathe with me, Sirius. I’m going to count and we are going to breathe.”

Marlene watched in awe as her mother calmly coaxed Sirius out of the horrific state he was trapped in. They breathed together, with Sirius attempting to match Lottie the more lucid he became. Eventually, Lottie took his hands in hers, rubbing small circles in his palms with the pads of her thumbs. She spoke softly to him, asking him questions about his surroundings and Sirius muttered back short responses. Slowly, he came back to himself. Marlene stood in the doorway, Freddie beside her still looking quite distressed and her father with an unreadable expression playing on his features.

“Marlene could you come sit here beside Sirius? I’m going to go whip up a potion for him to take. Freddie, Grant, why don’t you come help me? Give Sirius some space.”

Freddie nodded wordlessly and turned to head down the stairs followed by his father. As Marlene passed her mother, Lottie put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t make him talk about it,” She whispered, “just listen if he does.”

Marlene nodded and Lottie gave her a sad smile before leaving the two teens alone. Sirius stared down at his lap, his eyes puffy with tears and his hair a tangly mess. He seemed embarrassed and shifted slightly when Marlene took a seat next to him. She didn’t blame him. She’d be pretty embarrassed too if her whole bravado façade fell apart in front of an audience. It was quiet between them, and Marlene struggled as she thought of something to say. She wanted to ask Sirius what had happened, what kind of nightmare he’d had to cause such a reaction, but she refrained. Still, she thought she could gather a well enough idea.

“I’m thinking of cutting some fringe.” She says instead, reaching up to toy with a strand of her hair. Sirius blinks, glancing toward her and then back at his toes. “I think it’d be a nice change, you know. Eleanor Tippets has fringe and it’s quite nice looking, don’t you think?”

“I’ve never thought about Eleanor Tippets.” Sirius responds. Progress, she thinks.

“Me neither. Not really. Just noticed her hair is all.” Marlene purses her lips. “James has some wild hair, doesn’t he? Does it naturally look like that or does he do it on purpose?”

A ghost of a smile traces Sirius’ lips and Marlene feels her muscles lose a bit of the tension she was unaware she had been holding.

“It’s naturally messy, though he does run his fingers through it often.”

“When he flirts with all the girls?”

“Well, just one girl, really. He still can’t get over Evans.”

Marlene tenses a bit but forces the conversation to continue. “Lily is nice.”

“So is James. She still hasn’t given him a chance.”

Sirius was right, Marlene supposed. James Potter wasn’t exactly the poster boy for good behavior, but he was nice enough. He always helped first years with their homework and encouraged the Gryffindor Quidditch team to win the games and have fun doing it. Lily had talked about James before, to Marlene and Alice, usually to complain about how annoying he was or about what elaborate date he asked her on that week. At the time, Marlene thrilled over the fact that Lily was not into James and perhaps she imagined it was for the same reasons Marlene wasn’t into boys. Now, though, as she looked back on it, she could remember the faint blush gracing her friend’s cheeks each time James smiled at her and the way her lips would twitch upwards just before she told him to get lost.

“My parents hate me.” Sirius said suddenly. Marlene felt her heart stop. Even if she expected it, it was different to hear the words falling so painfully out of Sirius’ mouth. She looked towards him, at the hunch of his shoulders and the pain in his eyes. It was painful to see Sirius this way. He should be jumping on the bed or ranting to Marlene about David Bowie. He shouldn’t be sitting in the corner with trembling hands and a fear of his family. It wasn’t right.

“They shouldn’t hate you.” Marlene knew it was a lame response, but she didn’t know what to say. She had never prepared for a conversation like this, let alone with Sirius Black.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. I sometimes hate me.”

“Why?”

“We’re not close enough for this conversation, McKinnon.”

“Well, you’re the one who started it.”

Before Sirius could reply, Lottie had stepped back into the room, a cup held in her hand that presumably held the potion she had concocted. Sirius accepted it gratefully, attempting to put his mask of perfect manners back on, though his hands still shook as he drank. Lottie exchanged a look with Marlene, a frown on her face and pity in her eyes. Marlene looked away. She knew Sirius would hate to have any pity directed towards him so it felt wrong to accept such a look.

“You can stay in my room for the rest the night,” Marlene said, “I don’t want you to scare my brother awake with your screams again. He might just wet the bed.”

Lottie opened her mouth to scold Marlene, but Sirius just let out that barking laugh that Marlene had come to enjoy now that she had learned about Sirius’ animagus form. Her parents set the cot up in Marlene’s room quickly and said goodnight once more before shutting the bedroom door. Sirius stood awkwardly next to the cot, his hands clasped together in front of him. Marlene crawled underneath her own blankets, scooting as close to the wall as she could before patting the space next to her. Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Are you inviting me into your bed, McKinnon?”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Just for sleep, you dog.”

Sirius hesitated, but slid in beside her after a moment of consideration. He was careful not to touch her, whether that was to make her more comfortable or him, Marlene wasn’t sure. She turned on her side so that she was facing him. He stared resolutely at the ceiling, his hands on his chest and eyes wide open.

“You can relax you know. I don’t bite.”

“Biting might be fun.”

“Sirius—”

“I’m kidding!”

Marlene just shook her head. What a weird day, she thought as she closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander. Spending Christmas break with Sirius Black wasn’t something she had ever planned to do and now here he was, lying in her bed. Marlene wondered what Lily and Alice would say if she told them. She frowned as she thought of her friends. Would they still be her friends when she got back to Hogwarts? Or would they shy away from her, possibly even hate her. She couldn’t bear the sick feeling that washed over her at the idea of that.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Sirius asked. Marlene opened her eyes to see him gazing at her with an uncharacteristic look of empathy on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m thinking about how much sleep you’re costing me.”

Sirius flushed slightly, but persisted, nonetheless. “Oh, come on. Your face was all scrunched up, there’s no way you were thinking of sleep. Enlighten me, McKinnon.”

“No.”

“Is it a boy?”

“No.”

“Good. Then I have no competition.”

“Trust me when I say this, Sirius. You are not my type.”

Sirius hesitated and then, “I’m sorry for messing up your holiday. I can leave tomorrow. Find my way to James’ house. He’s more equipped to deal with this mess.”

Marlene wanted to reassure Sirius that he was no bother, that she was happy to help, but she couldn’t. Because she probably wasn’t as equipped to deal with all of Sirius’ stuff, not compared to James who knew Sirius better than anyone. Marlene suddenly felt a sense of guilt overcome her. She and Sirius had always been friends at school, chatting in the common room on occasion and sitting next to each other in history of magic, but they were never close. She supposed it was because Sirius didn’t let people get too close, no one except for James, Remus, and Peter. Not that she was any better.

“We can write him in the morning if that would make you more comfortable.” She mumbled. Sirius nodded.

“That would probably be best.”

“Sirius,” Marlene hesitated. “Sirius, I don’t want to pry or anything but…what happened? Why did you run away?”

A dark look settled over Sirius’ face and Marlene almost recoiled. Whatever happened had been bad, probably worse than Marlene could imagine. She almost regretted asking the question and was about to tell him he didn’t have to answer when he spoke in a breath.

“They tried to kill me.”

Marlene’s blood ran cold. She didn’t want to believe it. She wanted Sirius to crack a teasing smile and claim that he was just being his usual dramatic self and that he was exaggerating the story and that his parents just had some old-fashioned ideas that got him in trouble when he didn’t agree with them. That she could handle. But this…god, she was going to be sick.

“Why?” Her voice sounded childish, laced with curiosity, and horrified awe.

“I…disagreed with them, as usual. But this time it was because of more personal beliefs.”

“Personal beliefs?”

“I told them I was gay.”

There was a stutter in Marlene’s heart, a sudden thrill that she wasn’t alone, such an excitement that she almost screamed “me too!” back at him. But she didn’t. Because right now was about Sirius, not her. Instead, she reached out and took Sirius’ hand. He flinched at the motion but Marlene did not let go. She could not let go, not now, not when she might be the only person who Sirius might be able to relate to, that he might be the only person who could understand her. She felt the need to cling to this, to remember this moment as Sirius told her this secret with raw vulnerability and tears in his eyes because not only was the world cruel to people like them but his own parents couldn’t see past their own prejudices to just love their son. Instead, they set out to hurt and even kill. Marlene could make this moment matter. She could make this moment a happy moment for him.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Sirius finally met her gaze, surprise evident on his face. She grinned back at him, her own eyes watering.

“I am so fucking proud of you, Sirius. For being strong enough and brave enough to stand up to your parents and be who you are. I really admire that and I am so happy that you shared it with me. Thank you.”

Sirius’ body seemed to lose all the tension he had been holding since bumping into Marlene earlier that day. God, had it only been a day? Marlene felt as though Sirius had been there for weeks, ready to burst at the seams at any moment. And this was that moment. He started crying in earnest, his body shaking and eyes becoming blinded with tears. Marlene inched forward, wrapping her arms around him, and holding him close. Her own face was wet with tears of joy and pain for her friend.

Eventually they fell asleep, wrapped tightly around each other. It was how Lottie found them in the morning.

#sirius black #marlene mckinnon #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans potter #wolfstar #jily #marauders #marauders era #sirius black angst #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #💭 by kat #romulusnuffles

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nama-ri · 3 years

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Deeper Then Rivers (ch 1)

Hello, I literally made this blog because I’m obsessed with Rayaari and I had to write a fic. I’m posting on here for now since I don’t have a AO3 account :’) but I plan to post there too when I do!

This is my first fic. And it’s a retelling of Raya and Namaari’s story. I wanted to explore their world and characters deeper. It’s also a sort of fix it fic, since I need a Namaari redemption arc. Please let me know if you like it!

Summary: Namaari and Raya, two opposing forces who are more similar than they know. Together they’ll face the Drunn, find Sisu, and perhaps find themselves again too. A deeper look into Rayaari and the emotional turmoil they go through alone and together. Pre, during, and Post movie. TW for suicidal ideation in ch1, it’s minor but still.

(4 years after the drunn’s return)

‘Of Course Fang would think up a way to save themselves’ Raya thought ruefully as she observed the shining white city surrounded by water. A canal that kept the drunn away. Though it was late at night, she could see the flickering glow of lantern lights in windows and streets from her vantage point on a cliff side just outside the city limits. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she finally set foot into the land of binturis, of one specific backstabbing binturi. But this was not it, though she wasn’t that surprised.

Raya had spent the last few years of living on her own traveling. At first, she was to scared and too despondent to leave Heart. The memories of that time right after the dragon gem was broken filled her mind. Wandering the ruins of her destroyed home after the Drunn had turned most of her people to stone and moved on to wreak havoc somewhere else. She was so scared and lost back then, filled with grief as she spent her days wallowing among the stone faces. Those who survived had fled, not daring to stay in the cursed land, and it seemed she was totally alone. It was as Heart wrenching, but she couldn’t blame them.

Raya, herself had thought of fleeing too, she thought of a lot of things. At some point she even considered seeking out the Druun and ending her misery herself. It didn’t seem so bad at the time. She’d be with her Ba at least, though she had no idea what exactly happened when one was turned to stone. But it was basically a death sentence wasn’t it? In those low times, She’d make her way to the entrance bridge to visit her father, Tuk Tuk following beside her. The only friend she had left. Sitting with them and talking about everything and nothing. It was of course a one sided conversation but it still brought her comfort back then. And it would remind her of her Ba’s last words to her. She couldn’t give up, she was the Dragon Gem guardian, even if said gem was currently shattered and split across dragons knows where. No, she had to keep going or else her Ba’s sacrifice would mean nothing.

But eventually, she found she couldn’t stay in the only place she’d ever felt safe. Heart’s food reserve storage had lasted a long while but it was finally starting to run dry. And with Tuk Tuk’s recent huge growth spurt, Raya had estimated they'd be out of food in a few weeks. What’s more is that it seemed the Drunn had returned. This time in greater numbers, probably having grown by feeding on the unrest they themselves had caused. No, it had become too dangerous to stay, and though it pained her she knew it was time to leave. It did her no good to live among ghosts.

Raya continued to think back on that fateful day, melancholy creeping into her mind.

For the first time in a year, in her whole life really, Raya stepped out of the lands of Heart. She had no plan, a handful of jade, and a satchel of necessities. The night she made her decision to regain control of her life and do something, she had gone to the armory to retrieve her Ba’s sword. It was an internal battle on if she should take it, but she couldn’t bear to leave without a reminder of him. ‘And I’ll probably need it more than ever’ gulping at what hidden dangers lay ahead of her. What was waiting out there? Was there even anyone left but her and Tuk Tuk? Pushing the thought out of her head she had squared her shoulders and grabbed the sword. At the last second she decided to visit one more place, her old bedroom. She had abandoned it the first week after everyone turned to stone. The memories of happier times were too much for her to bear. When she walked into the dusty room, the waves of sadness crashed into her again and she quickly made to leave, regretting her choice to visit. But something caught her eye. A shining gold necklace covered in dust in the shape of a dragon, one bright blue gem lodge in the center. Raya had almost forgotten about it, she had flung it against that wall the same night she received it, the same night the world broke, where it landed on the floor unceremoniously and was left to be buried among other things in her regrets.

Gingerly, Raya picked it up and warmth filled her. An angry heat. Raya welcomed it as she remembered the person that gave it to her, the one she trusted and who had thrown that trust right back at her face. Namaari. Rage filled her, all consuming. It wasn’t a pleasant emotion but it was better than the sorrow that had been all she felt until that moment so she leaned into it. It was freeing as she turned her guilt and self demeaning thoughts against the Fang princess instead. This was all her fault! Not Raya’s. And just like that a spark of purpose lit in her chest and that night she stormed out of Heart with a new mission. Find a way to save her Ba, bring her people back, and get revenge on Namaari.

And here she was. Finally so close.

“We’ll get that scroll Tuk Tuk” she muttered to the pillbug who was watching her with a mix of worry and apprehension. Knowing she was thinking back on their journey to get to Fang. He knew Raya better than she knew herself sometimes, being her only constant companion through the years. It pained him to see her when she grieved, only a child back then. At first he was glad as they left Heart. Leaving was sad but it was good to see her more alive. But as they traveled through Spine, Talon, and even Tail for a clue on how to banish the Drunn he started to pick up on darker emotions from his best friend.

Sensing his apprehension, Raya finally turned from the cliff side and patted Tuk Tuk’s hard shell. Shooting him a comforting smile.

“Hey don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I bet they won’t even recognize me” Raya mused “They must think I was turned to stone after all this time” Scoffing at that cynical thought. Tuk Tuk wasn’t fully at ease but he leaned into her touch and accepted that Raya wouldn’t be talked out of this.

They had finally gotten a clue, a month ago in the Talon markets. As far as clues go it wasn’t as mindblowing as you might think, in fact it was right there all along. Raya had overheard an old woman telling a group of children a story of Sisu. Even after all this time, Raya was still a dragon nerd and had stopped her shopping for supplies to listen to the full tale. Something about it was familiar and it was half way through when she remembered where she had heard this story before. Her sworn enemy herself had told her years ago the story of the mighty Sisudatu who all thought had perished in her last stand, making the Dragon Gem to save everyone, but was actually alive swept away to the end of one of the many rivers in the land. A fairy tale but it was the best lead she had and it was then she decided it was finally time to make a visit to her old friend turned rival.

The plan? Sneak into Fang and steal the dragon scroll. Then follow it to all the rivers of the five lands to find Sisudatu. And if she met Namaari along the way, she wouldn’t be against finally taking out her anger on the binturi.

The thought of righteous retribution on the girl she spent the last few years thinking about comforted Raya in a sickly sweet way as she set up her camp with Tuk Tuk. Tomorrow she’d infiltrate Fang.

#rayaami #raya #rayaari #ratld #namaari #rayaari fic #ch1 #raya and the last dragon #raya and namaari #atitaya

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emachinescat · 3 years

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The Casket of the Armadillos (by Edgar Allan Nope)

A Psych Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 9 - buried alive

Summary: When Shawn confronts a grad student turned murderer, he learns a very important lesson a very hard way: Don’t piss off English nerds - especially the homicidal ones.

Characters: Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter, Henry

Words: 5,924

TW: panic attacks, buried alive, claustrophobia

Note: If you liked this classic lit-inspired Psych fic, you can always check out this one I wrote, inspired by To Kill a Mockingbird: The Finch and the Mockingbird

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!

- Edgar Allan Poe, “The Cask of Amontillado”

Her name was Olivia Hale, she was a twenty-three-year-old grad student at UCSB, and she was working on her doctorate in American lit. She was attractive in a cute librarian sort of way - short and petite, with long, curly auburn hair she kept in a bun and oversized glasses with thick lenses, and a smattering of freckles across her slightly upturned nose. She knew a little bit about everything when it came to literature as a whole, a rather impressive amount about American literature, and absolutely everything there was to know about the life and works of one Edgar Allan Poe.

She was also batshit crazy and currently pointing a .22 pistol directly at Shawn’s head.

“Don’t move,” she growled, disengaging the safety.

Shawn did a cursory glance around the empty classroom, looking for anything at all he could use to his advantage, to distract her or attack her with or - worst case scenario - to use as a shield. But Olivia had found him snooping around on the tiny fourth floor study room that she’d been given to use by the department chair as her thesis headquarters. She’d really made herself at home here, piling books and journals and what seemed like hundreds of loose sheets of paper on every available surface.

But he was stranded in the middle of the room, with nothing close enough to use as a weapon, and so Shawn used the most powerful tool he had, one that had saved his life and many others, wooed women all over the country, and ordered more chili cheese dogs than he could count.

He started talking.

“Look, Olivia, I get it,” he said soothingly. Slowly, in the most non-threatening manner possible, he lowered his hands. Olivia gripped the pistol tighter but didn’t shoot. “I know what happened. You didn’t mean to kill him.”

Her eyes were wide and fierce, her lips pursed into a thin line. “No,” she admitted. “It was an accident. But he was going to--”

“Yeees,” drawled Shawn, slowly raising his left hand and putting it to his temple, very well aware that he was probably pushing the limit with all of this movement after she had expressly ordered, at gunpoint, for him to stay still. “I see it. Dr. Graves was feeling guilty, wasn’t he? A fifty-five-year-old professor with a fancy PhD and tenure, and a devoted wife and three kids and two grandkids, to boot. The perfect life. But oooh, it wasn’t enough for him, was it?”

Shawn immediately answered his own question, something that he had become exceptionally good at over the years since he was usually the only one who could keep up with himself. “Of course not! What’s the perfect job and family when you’ve got a smokin’ hot, super smart student in her mid-twenties who thinks you’re the most impressive man on the planet?”

She sneered, and Shawn noticed with some trepidation that the hand holding the gun trembled just the tiniest bit. When she spoke, her voice warbled with rage. “My age and appearance had nothing to do with it - and even if it did, there was nothing wrong with our relationship! We were perfect for each other, intellectual equals. We were on each other’s levels - he was my soulmate! So don’t you dare belittle what we had like that!”

Ah. So he had hit a nerve. This could now go either one of two ways, in Shawn’s extensive experience in being held hostage: Either she would get fed up and send a bullet screaming through his body, Garth Longmore style, or she would let her emotions distract her, and cause her to make a stupid mistake. Obviously, Shawn hoped for the latter.

Now Shawn had to make a choice, because he could proceed in one of two ways: Either he could back off and try from another angle, or he could further antagonize her into (hopefully) making a mistake. Naturally, Shawn went with the latter.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed airily. “Older men and younger women do it all the time. But to say there was nothing wrong with your relationship? The man was married, and you were his student. I’m not the headmaster here -”

“Dean,” she corrected sharply, and this further proved that Shawn had pegged her correctly as a know-it-all literature wunderkind who had to be right one thousand percent of the time. “This isn’t Hogwarts.”

Shawn gave a tiny shrug. “To be honest, all big schools look like Hogwarts to me.”

“Because you have the mind of a child.” The words were accusatory and patronizing, but Shawn flashed a dazzling smile.

“Thank you,” he said. Before she could respond, he continued his earlier thoughts, “Even though you were the ‘perfect couple,’ you were furious with him for even suggesting that you stop seeing one another. The affair was too risky, and he missed his wife. He wanted to tell her the truth, fix things.”

“It would have ruined everything!” Olivia hissed, and the sound of her voice sent shivers down Shawn’s spine. There was an unhinged quality to it, something raw and dangerous that he hadn’t sensed before. He fought the sudden urge to backpedal as far away from her as possible. “We were perfect together! And if he told his wife and she let it slip, I would be kicked out! All my research, all my time and work here, everything would be gone! He had no right to make that decision for me, to take away my future!”

“Maybe,” said Shawn, and it was like he was watching from outside his body, because he knew that what he was about to say was a big mistake, but he was helpless to stop the words from tumbling from his lips, “you should have thought more about your future before you pursued your married Shakespeare teacher.”

Fury etched itself into every feature of her face, turning her from a beautiful librarian to a feral monster, but her voice was slow and measured as if it was taking every ounce of self-control she possessed not to shoot him where he stood. “He taught Southern. Gothic. Masterpieces.”

Shawn tried to backtrack, to undo whatever damage had been done by his unpredictably big mouth. “But,” he pressed. “Killing him was an accident. You didn’t mean to push him down four flights of stairs.”

She considered this. “No, I didn’t mean to kill him,” she reaffirmed, and then an odd calm smoothed out the angry crevices between her eyebrows - the peace, perhaps, of having come to an important decision that she knew was absolutely right. Shawn recognized the look because he’d seen it on others’ faces before (very rarely, if ever, had he seen it upon his own). “And I don’t think I will kill you, either.”

Whatever Shawn had been expecting, this wasn’t it. Everything about this woman screamed insane and vengeful. If Shawn lived, he would turn her into the police, and she would go to jail for a very long time. She was incredibly intelligent - surely she knew this!

And then she clarified, and the world started to make sense again - though Shawn would have honestly been perfectly content in this alternate reality where the bad guy suddenly has a miraculous change of heart. “Well,” she amended, “I won’t kill you directly. I’ve never shot anyone before - I only have this little guy here because I’m a young, pretty girl on a big college campus, and I have two night classes. Besides, your death shouldn’t be so easy.”

Shawn swallowed. “Olivia, you don’t have to do this. You haven’t intentionally killed anyone yet. If you turn yourself in now and cooperate, your sentence will be a lot shorter than if you kill me - directly or not. Because make no mistake, even if you kill me, you will still get caught. The SBPD has some damn good detectives, and they’ll bring you down even if I don’t.”

She didn’t respond to him directly. Instead, her expression was flat save for the dark gleam in her eyes, and she intoned words that in and of themselves had no meaning to Shawn, but that still managed to strike a chord of fear deep inside of his soul. “‘The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge.’” Shawn was utterly unnerved by this point; it was like she had been taken over by something both sinister and incredibly well-spoken.

And indeed, in many ways she had, as Shawn soon found out, she was quoting the beginning of a story by Edgar Allan Poe.

Presently, however, Shawn had no context for her strange words or sudden shift of demeanor. His skin crawled and his heart pumped with more get-up-and-go than he’d ever been able to muster in his whole body before. “Uh, Olivia…”

“Move,” she ordered.

This time, though it was contrary to his nature, Shawn did what she said without arguing. This side of the student, with stolen words sliding evilly from her mouth, was a million times scarier than the enraged Olivia who had very nearly shot him between the eyes.

She marched him out of the room and down the three flights of stairs to the main lobby of the English building. It was dark outside, nearing midnight, and Shawn kicked himself for thinking he was clever for coming to investigate this late. He’d thought she’d be at home sleeping. He should have realized that as a grad student, sleeping was the one thing she wouldn’t have time for! And now he was in very deep trouble, alone, and no one knew where he was. He should have waited until morning, until the building wasn’t deserted, should have at least called Gus and told him what he was doing. But it was a college campus, and she was a tiny little literature nerd - it should have been safe!

As she forced him down one flight of stairs, then two, then three, and finally, into a stairwell off the beaten path that had to be unlocked with a key card - which she had - she continued to encant, her voice slowly losing its flatness and growing into something twisted and sing-songy with every word.

“‘You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point, definitely, settled - but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk.’”

“Olivia--”

It was as if she hadn’t heard him as she shoved him into the basement, and now her voice stilled from a chant to a slow, measured whisper.. “‘I must not only punish but punish with impunity.’”

Shawn wasn’t sure what impunity was, but it sure as hell didn’t sound good.

Their final destination ended up being a small, partially finished storage room near the back of the basement. Dusty boxes and rusted cabinets and archaic old computer monitors lined the walls and cluttered most of the walking space. Shawn was reminded grimly of a school supply graveyard.

Olivia stopped him when they came to a brick wall that had been busted through to fix some issue with the pipes - Shawn saw the water stains on the concrete floor near the break in the wall, and there was a brand new water pipe joined to an old, yellowed one at about eye-level in the small open space between the bricks and the drywall beyond. Shawn also noticed that the new bricks had been neatly piled up near a sealed bucket that almost certainly contained mortar, right outside of the hole. Someone was in the process of walling this section back up.

“Nice wall,” Shawn joked, relieved that Olivia had finally stopped her creepy recitation and desperately trying to lighten the mood and bring things back to some sort of normal - honestly, he’d take being threatened with the gun again to the horror movie stuff he’d just witnessed. “I bet all the other walls are jealous of it.”

It was a lame joke, but her eerie dramatics had him all kinds of messed up. He expected her to tell him to shut up, or to threaten to shoot him again, or to actually shoot him, but instead she asked him a question in that same cold, calm voice as before. “Have you ever read ‘The Cask of Amontillado,’ Shawn?”

Shawn blinked. “I make it a point not to read anything that’s not a magazine from the 80s or WikiHow articles on ‘How to Escape from Dangerous Forest Animals.’”

The corner of her lips lifted in a mockery of a satisfied smile. “Good. Then you’ll get to experience it for yourself, first hand. Just wait until you get to the ending! You’re going to love it.”

Somehow, Shawn doubted that very much.

Still holding the gun on him with one hand, she reached her free hand into the cross-body bag she wore and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Shawn groaned.

“Come on! What college student just carries handcuffs in their school bag?” Then he remembered that this particular student had until recently been having a passionate affair with her teacher. “Wait - never mind. It makes perfect sense.”

She laughed, even though what he said wasn’t even remotely funny. The sound of it was strange and discordant - light and tinkly with a threatening undertone that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Then she gestured at the hole in the wall and ordered, “In.”

Shawn had known it was coming, but had tried to shove that knowledge into the corner of his mind - something that was quite difficult to do for someone with a photographic and eidetic memory - in an effort to convince himself that even she wasn’t that cruel. He tried to appeal to her one last time: “Olivia, it’s not too late to stop this. I mean, are you really going to do this to another human being - seriously, look at this place - it’s dusty and moldy and I’m almost certain there’s no room service! If you’re going to chain me to a pipe, why not do it in a five star hotel?” When she nudged him with the gun, eyes gleaming with something dark and triumphant, he reluctantly stepped into the small space and implored, “I’ll even settle for a seedy motel off a poorly lit backroad. I’m not too picky.”

She didn’t answer him as she stood on her tiptoes and handcuffed Shawn’s wrists around the pipe, cinching them so tight that the metal dug into his skin and he doubted that even his dad’s lessons on escaping handcuffs wouldn’t be much help here. Already he could feel his fingers going numb, and his shoulders and back had started to ache from the hunched position he was forced to take due to the height of the pipe and the awkward angle of his arms.

Well, Shawn thought glumly as she smiled at her handiwork and carefully backed out of the small space, maybe all wasn’t lost. Surely someone would come down here and find him. This place was dusty, but it couldn’t be abandoned - work still needed to be done down here, after all. And he could always yell for help once he was sure Olivia was gone. She was booksmart, but maybe she wasn’t criminally minded. He might be in for an uncomfortable night, but in the morning someone would find him and he could have his vision and the cute little psychopath would go to jail for a very long time.

He waited for her to leave, but instead, she used a crowbar to pry the lid off the bucket of mortar, and the pit in Shawn’s stomach became a whole-ass trench. He should have seen this coming - his heart pounded madly against his rib cage as if trying to free itself, with or without him. He couldn’t blame it. “Olivia, please,” he said, and this time, there was no joke, his voice imploring and terrified. “You don’t have -”

Again, she cut him off. “How would you like to hear a story before you die, Shawn?” she asked in a tone so casual that she could have been asking him if he wanted to grab a taco.

“How about you tell me a story and then I don’t die?” Shawn bargained weakly.

“Mmmm… If you stay alive, my whole life will be ruined,” Olivia reasoned. “And I have worked far too hard to allow that to happen. So. You just stand there - quietly - and I’ll tell you the story of Poe’s most beloved tale of revenge. I won’t tell you word for word, of course - we don’t have time for that - but for posterity, I do have it memorized.” She sounded grotesquely proud of that fact. “It’s my favorite of his stories, after all.”

And so, as she slowly began to brick up the hole in the wall, with Shawn trapped, helpless and in a dissociative state of panic, she told him the story of two men with really stupid names that Shawn somehow managed, despite his raging fear, to file away for later as possible nicknames for Gus.

“Our story starts in Italy, during the carnival, and our narrator is a man named Montresor, who has a grudge against his once-friend, now-foe, Fortunato…”

The story was an interesting one, even to Shawn, who preferred watching over reading and especially over listening any day. And as it turned out, Olivia was a really good storyteller. If he had been in any other position, Shawn might have actually enjoyed the suspenseful tale of revenge.

But as he stooped there and was forced to listen, all he could think about was about how terrified this Fortunato guy must have been, and then he started wondering how long it had been before the man hadn’t been able to hold his bladder or… other things… anymore, and then about what had happened when he was too tired and dizzy to stand up, if the manacles on his wrists had pulled so hard against his flesh that they cut into him, and if lack of water or oxygen killed him first, all the while he knew that he wasn’t asking these questions for the sake of the fictional character. He was asking them for himself. Olivia had made it exceedingly clear - for a literature scholar, she was surprisingly un-subtle about any underlying meanings or motives - that Fortunato’s story was now to be his story.

It wasn’t until she had begun discussing with rapture the brilliance of Poe’s use of the Italian carnival as the setting of a story about murder (because of its abandonment of social order, whatever that meant) and had built up all but the last two bricks, leaving a hole around Shawn’s eye level, that came to the most horrifying realization yet. He’d been so focused on his own thoughts and fears with Olivia’s words washing over him like an acid bath that he’d barely registered that the dim light in the hole had been darkening incrementally with each new brick placed. Now he came to the bone-chilling understanding that once she placed those last two bricks, he would be completely in the dark.

He was going to die, alone, terrified, and in utter darkness with fear as his only friend. He thought in that moment that he might die of a heart attack before he could even think about dehydrating or suffocating. Honestly, it sounded like an easier way to go.

“Well,” said Olivia finally. “I can’t say that it’s been a pleasure to meet you in any way, Shawn, but I suppose I should thank you. Ever since I found out about this unfinished wall down here, I’ve had this unscratchable itch to recreate the titular scene from my favorite Poe story. You gave me the means and justification to do it!”

Shawn was so overcome by the surging sea of fear and early-onset claustrophobia that he couldn’t even muster up the gumption to make a joke about the word titular. Instead, as Olivia knelt down next to her bag, rooting around for something, he jerked madly against the handcuffs, desperately searching for any give in the metal or the pipe he was handcuffed to (or even his wrists, at this point he wasn’t picky). But the pipe was new, and it was sturdy, and so was the fitting that connected it to the old one, which itself didn’t seem too keen on budging, either.

A sick grin teased at Olivia’s parted lips. “Oh, Fortunato tried that too. But then he stopped crying and struggling and chose to die with a shred of dignity. But I highly doubt dignity is something you’re capable of.”

And then, with the finality of fitting a lid to a coffin, she slapped a piece of fluorescent pink duct tape over his mouth and a fresh wave of panic ravaged Shawn’s everything. He didn’t remember this happening in her retelling of the story! Then again, the Fortunato guy had been sealed into catacombs deep underground. Shawn was in the basement of a heavily trafficked university building. Someone would actually hear him if he called for help, so she took his voice away from him too. He couldn’t even sing “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” to pass his time or distract him from the inevitable. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he would die in the dark, he would die in the quiet too - and silence was, as his incessant need for chatter plainly proved, Shawn’s worst enemy.

“Goodbye, Shawn,” Olivia said, and she added one brick, layered on the mortar, and then gave her captive one last satisfied glance before adding the last brick and leaving Shawn in total, impenetrable darkness. He would never forget that last, terrible look in her eyes before his world went black - she was no longer human; she had elevated herself to the level of the storytelling gods and she relished in the twisted power she held over the life of another human.

As her footsteps clipped away, her voice, obscenely gleeful, called out, “In pace requiescat!”

***

The next ten hours were the worst of Shawn’s life, and they consisted of five main elements all bundled together into a nightmare that would stalk him for the rest of his life.

Cold. It was the middle of January, and though it couldn’t have been less than forty-five degrees outside, the basement - especially behind the walls - was chilly, and with the musty smell and the dust and the pitch black, Shawn was reminded far too much of a grave and knew that he might as well be in one, because this was going to be his. It was the kind of cold that bit deeper than the skin and wormed its way into the very core and dug its icy fangs in and refused to let go - the chill of death, an open invitation from the dead to join them in their home beneath the ground. He shivered a lot, but he couldn’t be sure if it was the cold, or the panic. It was probably a little of both.

Dark. The darkness that surrounded him had an unreal nature that could easily trick the eyes into thinking that they were already closed. It was oppressive and thick, pressing in from all sides, inky black water dredged from the depths of the sea.

Shawn had never been a fan of the dark, but neither did he exactly fear it. That changed the second that the last brick was put into place and he found himself in a darkness so severe that were in not for the feeling of floor beneath his feet he could have been suspended in the depths of space so remote that not even stars could reach. The darkness swarmed his senses - it had a physical presence, and it didn’t lessen, never permitted Shawn’s eyes to adjust to it in the slightest. It just hung there, surrounded him, assaulted his mind with its infinite arsenal of nightmares.

After experiencing true darkness, Shawn would never sleep without a nightlight again (which unfortunately meant he couldn’t judge Gus anymore for using one, either).

Pain. At first it was just the pull of his shoulders, the ache in his back. Then, about five minutes after he’d been sealed up, he realized his wrists were screaming with agony - he must have torn them badly when he fought to get away, but the adrenaline staved off the pain until now. He vaguely wondered how deeply the cuffs had cut - it felt like the skin on his wrists had been flayed - but quickly remembered that it didn’t matter where he was going.

Then there were the hunger pangs, and they mingled with the cramps from holding his bladder longer than he ever had before, and at some point muscle spasms in his arms and chest and legs joined the choir of suffering. At one point, he shed a few tears, but they could have just as easily been from anxiety or exhaustion, which itself produced its own kind of pain - he longed to sleep, but his body refused to allow him even that comfort until the very end, right before he was rescued, as if he were being forced on pain of death to endure the pain of death right up until the very moment of his painful death.

At least he didn’t have too much trouble breathing. There must have been a crack somewhere in the wall in front of or behind him, because fresh air was entering somehow. He did, several hours into his imprisonment, begin finding it difficult to pull in a full breath, and by the time he was rescued he was giddy with light-headedness, but he didn’t know if it was from the air quality or exhaustion or panic or from being forced to breathe only through his nose for hours, but he really didn’t care.

Quiet. Even worse than the cold and the dark and the pain was the quiet. The tape over his mouth prevented him from doing the one thing that could bring him comfort in even the most difficult of situations. Talking was what Shawn did - he utilized mindless prattle to distract bad guys, to make people underestimate him, to quell fear and panic in himself and those around him, to annoy and wheedle those whose opinions meant the most to him (and who he was most afraid to be real with), and most importantly, to distract himself from all the pain and baggage that his exceptional memory had filed away for him throughout the years. Talking nonsense meant that he wasn’t thinking about or acknowledging the parts of himself that arguably needed the most attention, those bits that were scared and unsure and hurt and vulnerable.

Shawn had always detested silence, and now it had invaded so intimately that even he could not drive it out.

And all of these culminated in a constant, agonizing state of absolute, unrelenting fear.

Panic attacks are horrific things that take your natural instincts in potentially dangerous situations and turn them against you in the cruelest of ways. They suck the air out of your lungs and make your heart pound so fast and so hard that you are convinced it’s going to give out in pure fatigue and never make it to that next beat. It makes your skin crawl like there are thousands of spiders nesting there, and your chest hurts and your breath is short and stunted and you know you are dying, that the next breath will be your last, but it isn’t, and the fear just continues and sometimes you curl into a ball or rock back and forth or scratch at your skin.

Panic attacks generally last anywhere from five to twenty minutes. Shawn was stuck in a state of raw, unfiltered panic for ten hours. When the EMTs at the scene took his heart rate, it was 160, had been the entire time he’d been buried in a collegiate tomb, knowing that he was going to die.

Put simply, Shawn Spencer spent ten hours in his own personal hell.

***

It was nearly three in the afternoon when Detectives Juliet O’Hara and Carlton Lassiter, with the help of a frantic Gus and a worried Henry that tried his damndest not to show how worried he was, made the final connections in the case and tracked down the woman who had slept with and then killed her lover like a hyper-intelligent, book-loving black widow. Juliet and Gus remained on the college campus to continue investigating while Lassiter and Henry went on to the station to question Olivia. She had refused to say where the missing psychic detective was, however, and only offered one bitter phrase, spoken in another language that sounded to the questioning party like a curse being placed on their heads:

“Nemo me impune lacessit.”

It was Gus who figured it out after Lassiter related the cryptic saying over the phone.

“I know that phrase!” he exclaimed to a swell of raised eyebrows. “It’s Latin! It means no one wounds me with impunity!”

“You speak Latin?” Juliet seemed impressed.

“Not much. But I recognize that particular saying, because it’s from a story that gave me nightmares my entire sophomore year of college.” He shuddered. “It’s from the second-most terrifying Poe story.” He didn’t elaborate on what the first-most terrifying one was, largely because he didn’t want to give the others fodder to use “The Tell-Tale Heart” against him like Shawn already did. Then the full implications of the words sunk in and he gasped, “We have to find Shawn, now.” The horror in his expression sent a chill down Juliet’s spine.

“Gus - what the hell are you talking about?” Henry was no longer trying to hide the panic in his voice.

“It’s from ‘The Cask of Amontillado,’ Gus clarified, his own panic making it difficult to express himself clearly.

“Guster, this is hardly the time for you to have a glass of wine,” Lassiter barked. “Now stop talking in riddles and just spit it out!”

But Juliet had now made the connection as well and answered for Gus. “Oh my gosh - isn’t that the one where the guy is sealed into a wall and left to die?”

The dread in Gus’s eyes said it all.

“He’s got to be somewhere on campus,” Henry reasoned, and his voice shook the tiniest bit. “Lassiter and I are on our way back to you now. In the meantime, check with the school and see if there are any places that are easily accessed and under construction.”

No one said it aloud, but the possibility that her words hadn’t been a hint at all and that Shawn was somewhere else entirely hung in the air amongst them. It was funny, Juliet thought - though it wasn’t funny at all - she urgently needed Gus’s theory to be right, because otherwise they would have no leads, but at the same time, she was terrified of the implications if it were true.

Her heart felt as sick as Montresor’s when he placed the last brick as she and Gus raced to the administration building and prayed they weren’t too late.

***

When they broke through the wall, the sight that greeted them was one that would never leave them - any of them. Even Lassiter, who made it his sacred duty to remain unfazed by anything his job threw at him was visibly disturbed.

A moment of silence, a beat where time stood still and everyone was afraid to move, and then -

“Shawn!” The four rescuers surged forward as one, but Henry got there first, his trembling fingers groping for a pulse - thank God, but it was racing, dangerously fast, and in the background he heard Lassiter radioing for an ambulance.

Shawn woke up as Henry gently peeled the hideous pink duct tape (an affront to all duct tape everywhere) off of his mouth. It wasn’t a gentle waking, a flutter of eyelashes or the murmuring of a name - it was violent and erratic, fueled by terror.

Henry had had to deal with panic attacks before - mostly Gus’s when he took the boys camping together, but once or twice when Shawn was really young and he’d had a bad dream. This one was the worst that he’d ever seen - Shawn woke with a muffled yell, panting through his nose, writhing, tears streaming down his face, eyes squeezed shut against the trauma he’d been subjected to, and he threw himself against the handcuffs so fiercely that Henry feared he’d break his wrists.

Soon his wrists were freed, though, and Henry, with the help of Lassiter, helped a weakened Shawn out of the wall and into the basement and lowered him to the floor. Henry sat with him and rubbed his back and spoke quietly to him, Juliet took his hand, and Gus reassured him while Lassiter ran up the stairs to check on the ETA of the ambulance.

Twenty minutes later, Shawn had been placed onto a stretcher and carried up the stairs and out into the sunlight - sensing the warm rays, he opened his eyes only to pinch them shut again as the brightness after so many hours in the dark nearly blinded him. He had been given something to calm him down, and he would be going to the hospital to be checked over and observed overnight, and a psychiatrist would be sent in to evaluate him in the morning, and everything was moving so fast that Shawn leaned over the side of the stretcher and deposited the remnants of the last thing he’d eaten, nearly twelve hours before.

“There’s one thing I still don’t get,” he gasped as he was eased back onto the stretcher. “Where do the armadillos come into her plan?”

The EMTs exchanged a concerned look at the stretcher, probably wondering if there had been some carbon monoxide poisoning after all. Gus, however, just rolled his eyes.

“Amontillado, Shawn. It’s a kind of wine.”

“The story is called ‘The Casket of the Armadillos,’” Shawn argued stubbornly, going so far as to cross his arms over his chest, pulling at the IV in his right hand.

Gus was going to argue, to insist that he’d actually read the story (and why the heck would someone fill a casket with armadillos?), but then Gus saw the plea in Shawn’s hazel eyes, that need for jokes and silliness, and understood that his best friend was clinging onto his last shreds of control.

“You know what - I forgot,” Gus corrected, shaking his head and giving himself a light smack on the forehead for good measure. “It is ‘The Casket of Armadillos.’” He glared out at Henry, at Lassiter and Juliet and the EMTs, defying them to challenge his claim. No one did, but they all shared a similar baffled expression.

Well, they could deal with their confusion, Gus thought protectively as he watched Shawn and Henry disappear into the ambulance. Shawn had been through a night of unspeakable horror, so if it was armadillos he wanted, then it was armadillos he was going to get.

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader

Start

Genre: Fluff, adventure, interactive choose-your-own-story Overall Warning(s): References to alcohol use but nothing severe/dangerous, some foul language Word Count: 1014 Ambience: here

AN: not all options are available yet because this is quite a big thing, but I need to get links available otherwise admin is going to become a nightmare

~~~

The night grew cold as if by the flip of a switch, the temperature drop encompassing the valley and drawing in a mild storm not far behind. As soon as everyone had retreated to their tents after feeling the first flecks of rain, the wind rose, buffering the canvas sheets and biting at a loosened tether. Its high-tone crackle was just loud enough to prick at the ears, even through the noise that continued after.

After a couple of drinks prior, as well as several rowdy choruses of old 80s songs and tussles in the fresh grass, even as the rain picked up the many inhabitants continued to shout and call to one another. Some were cackling tipsily from far behind you, a couple were bickering somewhere off round the front, and before long came the inevitable loud whack from one of the furthest tents, with a cacophony of stifled laughter and whines to follow.

You meanwhile inhaled deeply, shutting out the noise and leaving it distant amongst the wind. It was a skill you had taken a while to learn, but had proven to be invaluable with just how much noise your friends were capable of making. Leaving the ruckus, you became mesmerised by the faint dapples of rain rippling across the dark skin of the tent, specks of shadows that made their staggered way out of the hazy spotlight, to merge with the void out of reach of the moon’s light.

The silvery glow from the celestial sister high above had been all that allowed you to see, dimly shimmering through the canvas and casting silhouettes upon your two friends, who despite the chaos outside, were snoring contently. But as the storm ushered in, bringing the brisk chill that only the damp air of a squall in the dimming summer could bring, the chalk dust face disappeared into the thick of the night, leaving little glow to the valley at all. And that in turn left the only source of light being the occasional random torch arcs roaming like strobe lights from the tent next-door—otherwise, everything was pretty much painted of ink.

You couldn’t make out what your temporary neighbours were squabbling about over the wind, but it sounded like much more of a party than it did where you were. When you had chosen your tent-mates you had expected to have stayed up all night, because surely, if they weren’t here, they would have been at frat parties dancing the dusk through to a waltz with dawn—but in a strange twist of fate here they were, after several drinks, crowned as the first to fall asleep.

Johnny, as soon as he pulled his blankets over him, was out like a light. He had led the charge earlier in the day, and had shown no signs of stopping, gleefully chasing the others around only to throw them over his shoulder when he inevitably caught them; his long strides had proved to be quite the unfair advantage, not that anyone could stop him from playing even if they wanted to. None of that Johnny could be seen in his sleeping features now. With his strong arms scrunched at his chest while his plush lips squished into an unrequited kiss at his pillow, you hadn’t hesitated to take a photo of his precious face for blackmail later. On the furthest mattress from you was Jaehyun, who had insisted on staying up a little longer. He’d gotten a lot more talkative the more he drank, though it meant it wasn’t long before he gave in too, his cheeks rosy from all of his indulgences despite your previous advice and gleaming eyes languidly blinking. He’d passed out diagonally on top of his sleeping bag, one foot shot out at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable no matter how much you considered it, the other—now you thought of it, you had no clue where. It was as if the night had consumed it.

You meanwhile were perched bolt upright, staring into the dark aimlessly, completely unable to sleep. Perhaps it really was the noise that kept you from rest—you may have been used to their seemingly never-ending energy but the incessant clacking of the tent clip would be enough to drive even the most robust insane. Maybe it was the unfamiliar surroundings and the way the shadows pooled in the corners of the tent, too dark to even let the light of a flame escape. Whatever it was, you found yourself unable to catch a wink of the sleep that the other two had succumbed to. You rationalised that they had stolen all the sleep available.

The small chuckle that had escaped you quickly died down however, as truly, you couldn’t believe your luck. When you’d planned the trip you’d figured that the sun would rise before you slept, but this was what you’d received instead. How had you ended up with the most boring tent?

Hearing another bout of raucous laughter from somewhere in the distance, and watching Johnny scrunch his nose in response to the increased volume of Jaehyun’s sudden snore, you decided it was time to take action.

Laying your options out before yourself, your eyes firstly settled on Johnny. You could wake him up, you supposed, to get some conversation at the very least. Alternatively, since he was such a nice person—and since you now began to consider how that wouldn’t be an option, because waking Johnny up had never proved to be any less than a nightmare—maybe you could try to at least hunker down with him. It would no doubt be comfortable, he kicked out a lot of heat after all. Or, after catching Jaehyun mumble something intelligible from the other side of the tent once again, you could try and help him settle properly, especially since you could already hear the others eventually complaining about it when they finally decided to sleep.

That being said, you could also very much ignore both rational options and instead brave the poor weather outside to explore what the other tents had to offer.

What do you choose?

Try and get Johnny’s attention

Go check on Jaehyun

Venture out into the wilderness

~~~

AN: this is just a miniseries i thought i would start off with on a whim, bc ive always wanted to try something like this, and also i feel like my blog is dead bc of my creative fluctuations lately

(tw: mental health, madd) i wont bore people with the details of my mental health disorder, but its being a pain in quarantine for a variety of reasons, and it means my creative output is severely out of whack

basically, the proper long things (such as pirate ateez series, Love endings and such) that i promised are coming! but please bear with me, my brain isnt in the right state to write them yet and i want them to be worthwhile, so this is what im trialling until it is

there is also no Dream bc it would make just too many options for me to cope with so im really sorry :( if people like this sort of thing then i will do another which does include them in a different scenario

sorry, thank you, and i hope you enjoy playing along :)

Masterlist

(edited: July 15 2020)

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whump-it · 4 years

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Callum, Rory and Alyaa; Miscommunication Part 1

Tag Team Time!

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @saphemme @slaintetowhump

TWs for characters that are clearly healing from past abusive situations. Panic attacks. Small mention of scarring.

“Alyaa!”

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of her name being called. She knew that voice. She recognised it from the last time she had heard it, laced with alcohol and too close for comfort. She had got her timings wrong. He should be at work. He shouldn’t have been able to find her in the corridor. She should have known better.

“Alyaa, I need to ask you something!”

His voice was closer this time, his footsteps were approaching at a jog. She closed her eyes and breathed in. In through her mouth and out through her nose. Her fists clenched in and she dug her nails into her palms on each hand, letting feeling of it centre her before she opened her eyes, painted a smile across her face, and turned to greet Rory who jogged to a stop in front of her, closer than she wanted.

“You ok?” he asked her, frowning slightly at her stiff posture, her controlled manner. He could only imagine what he must have said to her that time when he was drunk, but he didn’t want to ask. And right then wasn’t the time. There were other more important things that he needed to worry about.

“I’m fine,” Alyaa said, politely. Quietly. Carefully and with a hint of thanks that should smooth over any further probing.

“Good! Good,” Rory pushed his hands into his jeans pockets and bounced awkwardly up and down on the balls of his feet, making Alyaa wish both that she’d pretended she’d never heard him to start with and that he would just spit it out.

“So I really really need to go out today and I don’t want to have to lock Callum in the apartment but if I don’t he’ll probably wander,” he said in a hurry, blushing and glancing nervously up and down the corridor. Everything that he had said so far was making her itch with the desire to run, run and then keep running. “I can’t have him wandering you see and I need to go out...”

“You already said that part,” she said quietly.

“Umm, yeah. Uh, so the thing is I was wondering if you could just go in and keep an eye on him for me? Please? Because I just don’t trust him on his own quite yet.” As he spoke he started backing up a bit, moving slowly in the direction of his own front door, clearly hoping that she would follow. Like a scared puppy being led nervously to the shelter. Being led where it ought to be safe. Where no one actually ever knew what went on once the door closed. And damn it all if her feet didn’t start to move with him. She had given them no permission to do so but they were doing it anyway. And she knew, she just knew, that the reason was because someone needed to see if that boy he had brought home was ok. Because saving herself once had been the hardest thing in the world and she knew that not everyone was capable of that amount of strength even if it had left her almost permanently emotionally winded. And because she knew without ever having to be told it, that the boy had been Callum. The one that Rory had cried about to her. The one that he had clearly wanted for himself. The one that he now did have and had brought home battered and bruised, cut to shreds and barely clothed.

“He won’t give you any trouble,” Rory said as they drew closer and closer to his door. “But please don’t offer him anything. He’s able to make his own food and drinks and stuff. He doesn’t do so well with being given nice things so best not to ask.”

Alyaa swallowed hard and tried to slow her heartbeat, which was skipping up and down uncomfortably in her chest, while her mind turned over on itself with all of the possible reasons why on earth she shouldn’t offer this boy anything nice. Why nice things were apparently being kept from him.

She watched from a small distance while Rory fumbled his keys out of his pocket and opened his front door. He motioned for her to go in but her self preservation made her stay back, a small shake of the head to say that he shoudl go in first. Her self preservation made her keep him in front of her and the door right behind her as she followed him into his apartment. She stepped in after him and left the door open, keeping her back to it. The place was a mess. It was overly warm and stuffy and all of the windows that she could see were shut. Her gaze bounced from window to window, over and over, checking and zeroing in on the catches while her feet moved just a step closer to the door. The living area was a clutter of pillows and covers, old glasses with the drink still in the bottom of them. The dining table caught her eye as being utterly and spotlessly clean, and it stuck out like a sore thumb in the rest of the chaos. She craned her neck to look into the kitchen area which was also surprisingly clean and tidy.

“Callum!” Rory shouted, making Alyaa jump and sending her heart rate leaping again. A bead of sweat ran down from her neck. She could feel it tickling its way down her back. He turned back to look at her and shrugged with a small apologetic looking smile which she didn’t like in the least.

“Sorry,” he said. “He’s probably in his room...” They were interrupted by a small sniffing coming from between the coffee table and one of Rory’s couches. Rory moved instantly in the direction of the sound, and Alyaa was drawn instantly out of the need to see what had happened to Callum. She moved into the room, still keeping Rory in front of her and the door at her back, a clear line between her and her exit, and looked down into the space between the furniture where Rory was now crouched down, his hands pressed to down on Callums drawn up knees.

And there he sat. Callum. In an oversized sweater that she guessed must belong to Rory, and a pair of sweat pants. His feet were bare and she could have sworn that there was a hint of some sort of scarring just licking up from around the soles. He was clenching his toes then releasing them over and over while Rory muttered something at him close to his face. The poor boy was blushing furiously and nodding, looking sad and upset and nervous and Alyaa wanted to run and she wanted to kick Rory where he was crouched. And she wanted to pick Callum up and take him home. She backed up a touch and from her new position she could see that Callum was holding on to something tightly behind his back. Something crusted in what looked like mud. Or at least she hoped that it was mud. He was twisting it up in his grip as though his life depended on it while he continued to nod over and over at whatever it was that Rory was saying to him. Her mouth felt dry, throat thick and tight while she watched them interacting.

Rory rocked back on his heels and stood, followed by Callum who did the entire movement with his hands behind his back, clutching tightly to what she could see now was a teddy bear, and she was horrified all over again. He looked so young but she knew that he was a grown man. And he looked frightened and torn to pieces that were barely holding together. And he was holding a teddy. There was so much wrong about everything that her brain couldn’t settle on one singular point. Instead it held her frozen where she was while Rory introduced them.

“Callum, this is Alyaa,” Rory said, motioning to her.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying so hard to smile for him and for herself. “Callum?” He looked quickly from the ground up to meet her eyes and then looked to Rory, his gaze settling on him. Alyaa wante dot tell him to look at her, not Rory. Don’t look at him. He’s not in charge. He doesn’t have to be in charge. Her ears were ringing slightly and she could see Rory lips moving but couldn’t hear what he was actually saying. He nodded in her direction and Callum looked back to her.

“Umm...yeah...C...Callum.”

A moment of silence hung awkwardly in the air between them all for a few beats until Callum hesitantly spoke up.

“Uh...umm...c...can I sit back...umm...on the floor?” he said, looking at Rory wide eyed and flushed.

“Yeah, you go for it,” Rory said.

“Thank you,” Callum whispered. “Thank you for letting me...tha...thank you.” Alyaa listened horrified to his murmurs of gratitude. Had he been fine she realised, she would have run out of the apartment, back to her own, and locked herself in for days. But not now. Not now that she had actually met Callum. Her fear was reigned in tightly and kept in check only by the fact that he seemed to be so very damaged. She knew damage. She knew what it felt like. Someone needed to stay with him.

“Right,” Rory said. Or announced. It was spoken with a finality that allowed Alyaa to breath a little more easily because finally he would go and she could relax just a tiny little bit. Not much, but the tension might bend instead of breaking. “I’m sorry but I really do have to make a move. I won’t lock the door but Callum, you have to do what Alyaa says ok? Please? Just stay in the apartment. I don’t know how long I’ll be out for but you need to stay. Don’t try to go back. Ok? Promise me?”

“I promise,” Callum said earnestly, looking up from his place back on the floor. “I won’t go. I’m sorry. I won’t...I’m sorry.”

"Ok... cool," Rory moved towards Alyaa and she backed up slightly, led a dance between them, a circling motion that took her closer to Callum, and Rory closer to the door.

"... right. I'll see you both later," and with that Rory was out of the apartment and the door was clicked shut. Alyaa listened to hear the tell tale sound of a lock sliding into place, breath held and aware of everything. When ten or so seconds had passed with no more noise she released her breath and tried to relax into the situation. When she turned back to see what Callum was doing, she saw that he was right back where he had started. On the floor with his teddy behind his back. She crouched down in the spot that she was stood in, first to her knees, and then slowly placed both palms flush to the floor and slid her legs out to the side, settling into the position near to him but not too close. She slowly moved her hands to her lap and kept them close in so that he would know that she wasn’t intending to aim any fists or swings in his direction. She could see the bob of his adams apple as he swallowed reflexively, a sure sign of his skittishness and nerves. He was glancing across at her from time to time and clearly trying not to be seen doing so. He ducked his head back down when she smiled at him.

“Callum?” she said quietly. He looked up quickly and looked alert to any dangers that could come his way. It was a look that she knew all too well.

“Umm...y...yeah,” he said, eyes darting around the room and only ocassionally landing on her face.

“Thank you for letting me spend the day with you,”

“Uh...well...Rory said I shouldn’t be alone...so....” Callum’s words trailed off into more silence.

“Yeah I know,” Alyaa said, trying not to let her face show how cross that had made her. That apparently this poor young man wasn’t even allowed to be left on his own for one day for fear that something would happen. That he might get out. And that Rory was determined to stop that from happening. Part of her wished that he had just locked Callum in like he had apparently been doing since he had brought him home, so that she wouldn’t have to be in there with him, panic striken and nervous and constantly looking at the door and the windows to calculate the quickest way out. But the thought of abandoning him was already too much to bear.

“So...what do you do then?” she asked, trying to frame her questions in the best possible way to get answers but without breaking Rory’s rules. Because breaking rules had always been a fast track to trouble. One that she didn’t want to travel down again if she could help it.

“Wh...what do I do?” Callum asked, looking confused.

“Yeah. Like during the day. Here. What’s a day like for you?”

“Umm...I like...no...umm...Rory says not to do...umm...he says I should wash or...I sit with my teddy,” his eyes were starting to sparkle with tears, welling up and edging towards spilling over and down his cheeks.

"Ok," she said. "That's ok. You just stay sitting then." Alyaa glanced around, desperate for inspiration or an idea that would help. A way into Callum's mind. A way into what was actually going on.

"So do you go out much?" Alyaa asked. "Does Rory let you... take you out?" Callum curled forward at the question, had been curling gently more and more in on himself since she'd started asking him questions. The silence stretched out until he eventually answered.

"He takes me out," Callum whispered, knees tucked up and his mouth pressing the words on to them instead of out into the air. "Th... thank you for umm... for asking. He...we go walking sometimes. He's always s... so kind to me. He says he'll always bring me h... home."

Alyaa suppressed the shudder that ran down her back at his words. At the politeness that seemed all too automatic. She was struggling to make any sense of it.

"Well," she said, forcing the words out even while they were making her feel sick. "That sounds very nice. Uh, very nice of him to do that." She wanted to scream at Callum that he should be allowed to go for a walk if he wanted to go for a damn walk. That Rory didn't own him. But what stopped her was the ice cold, stomach churning dread that Rory had gotten hold of what he had wanted since the first moment it had walked into his Collection Box. That there was every chance that Rory did, in fact, own him.

"He says... he... I'm not supposed to want to go back," Callum volunteered the start of some information up and Alyaa pounced on it. Another part of a barely even started puzzle.

"Go back where Callum?" she asked quietly. "Where have you come from?"

Silence draped heavily around them again as Alyaa sat and watched Callum. He was still digging his fingers into the teddy, still swallowing hard. A tear had finally escaped and ran slowly down his cheek before dropping on to his knee.

"From Master Hayden," he said, breaking his voice on the words and gulping in a sobbing breath. He looked utterly distraught, wrecked, just a shadow of what Alyaa could tell that he ought to be. Who ever Callum's Master Hayden was, it was very clear to her that he was upset about being away from him. Defeated. Devastated.

"Oh Callum," she said, edging just a touch closer, scooting across the floor towards him. "Do you miss him? Are you missing Hayden?"

"I'm..." Callum was crying over his words, making them hard to understand. "I'm not...I can't be better if I'm not with Master...mm... Master Hayden. I can't be...I can't be better. I want to be better. I can atone..."

Alyaa watched him twisting himself up in knots and panic and confusion, the fear that was coming off him in waves was starting to lap at her toes and erode the edges of her composure. She could feel it happening with no power to hold it back. In one quick move that sent Callum scuttling back towards the couch she pushed up off the floor and almost ran to the kitchen, throwing herself towards the window, over the sink, grabbing at the handle that wouldn't budge, fingers scuffing across the sill blindly feeling for a key but finding nothing.

There was no key. The handle wouldn't move. The latch didn't give. There was no key. There was no key. There was no key. The edges of Alyaa's vision were starting to twinkle and fuzz. Her breathing was ragged. She felt hot and cold all at once. She was on the very knife edge of what her body was willing to put her through when just to the side of her, silently, slowly and carefully, Callum's shaking hand gently placed a key down on the window sill before he stepped back. She snatched it up and jammed it into the lock, a few shaky attempts at getting it right and then it gave. It finally gave and she heaved the window open.

Cold air, blessed cold air flooded into the room and over her while she stood and breathed it in, in, in. While she let it cool and calm her. While her breathing and heart rate slowed and steadied and Callum stood to the side watching her, his teddy pressed to his chest with both hands. She chanced a look at him. He was shaky, pale, but he looked more in control of himself that he had been when she first arrived. Without a word, Callum transferred his teddy to one hand, keeping it firmly pressed up against himself, and he reached into a cupboard with his free hand, bringing down a glass. She watched him draw the glass up to his chest, hands together again while he used a shoulder to nudge the cupboard shut almost silently. Then he moved towards her, towards the sink which she stepped away from to give him access. Keeping both hands together and the teddy somehow dry, he filled the glass and then held it out to her.

"Rory says that when I'm worried I should sip some water," Callum said, with more confidence then she'd heard yet. With less stumbling across his words. Less breaking upon each syllable. Alyaa took the glass with trembling hands and a weak, small smile, and sipped at it for a few minutes.

"Thank you," she said. "For the key."

"Oh that's ok," Callum said, blushing. "I like to help. I'm good at helping. M...Master Hayden said that I have my uses... and... and Rory says I'm very good at helping."

"You are Callum," Alyaa said, almost reaching out to touch him but stopping herself. "You really helped me."

"Thank you. Thank you."

"I'm..." she took one more deep and steadying breath in. "... I'm getting hungry. I always make too much. My Opa always said I make too much. But I'm sure you and me won't let anything go to waste will we."

Callum smiled and shook his head, ducking it down shyly and rubbing his cheek against the top of his teddy's head.

"No... no waste."

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siobhanfm · 4 years

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『EMILIJA BARANAC ❙ CIS FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like SIOBHAN IVERS is here for HER SOPHOMORE year as an ENGLISH student. SHE is 21 years old & known to be CANDID, AMBITIOUS, PRETENTIOUS & MELODRAMATIC. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them.

basics: libra, pansexual, from los angeles. that’s all u need to know. :~)

as many know! i’ve had to workshop her bg a bit so i hope this makes sense! background wise, she’s the daughter of former child actors that fell in love and had her quite young. then they grew into early-2000s reality tv star fame where they played the part of the young hip cool parents, toting siobhan around in the midst of drama amongst other washed-out former child stars. the show only lasted for a few years, but it made up most of siobhan’s toddler life. from then on, her parents got involved in different facets of media. her mom jumped on family vlogs, kept up a huge social media presence as instagram and the sort rolled around. her dad got involved in a company like buzzfeed as a producer? it might as well just be actual buzzfeed? sue me. but anyway, they had money and a pretty great lifestyle just based on their past fame, but i wouldn’t say their family is notoriously famous by any means. there’s probably a small fanbase from their heyday and now they’re basically a Family of the Internet. moms that like to wear knee high suede boots are obsessed with them!

ANXIETY TW // she does have problems w anxiety and occasional panic attacks just from the pressure she puts on herself n just always being under scrutiny. sometimes she has it handled. sometimes she doesn’t. leaves it vague x // END TW

decided to go to radcliffe after spending a year traveling post-highschool. liked that it was on the east coast and that it was lesser known than other schools she was considering. she felt super proud that she got in on her own merit thru her writing bc....at the end of the day siobhan wants to succeed by her own doing!!!

she’s into journalism. this is real writing unlike her dad’s buzzfeed gig. spits. pretentious fuck. she has her own blog on top of things where she writes articles n sometimes she’s been able to get into magazines. she’s trying to develop her own small online publication but that’s pending. she likes to write about people in her life, her feelings, n she’s very candid about things to an extreme at times. she has a series where she writes about her sexcapades? no names mention but u know who it’s about, she knows who it’s about. it can b good or bad. it’s just a lot. probably involved in the school paper to an extent. probably involved in other stuff too.

plots? brain empty? but i’m down 2 clown if u are! message for plots! we can brainstorm! smiles w all my teeth!

#radintro #anxiety tw #i hate writing intros sm....don't know if this makes sense bt i did it #blows u all a kiss

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thestuckylibrary · 4 years

Text

Group Ask 159

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said:

Hi, I'm looking for a fic where Bucky is a familiar and Steve is a witch. Bucky had been captured by a wizard that kept him as a source of magic. He escapes as a cat and runs into Steve, who takes him in under the impression that that he's a stray. Eventually he turns back into a human and, long story short, they fuck and live happily ever after. Thank you for your help!

Anon 2 said:

Hey! So, I've been looking for this fic for almost a year now, and I've had no luck in finding it. Here's what I remember: Natasha and Tony watch either live video or audio feed of Stucky having sex, and they both get turned on. Natasha leaves before Tony does, and at the end of the fic, Steve says something along the lines of "I know you're there, Tony". I wish I could I could remember more details, but it's been a while... I really, really hope you can find it. Thanks for the help!

shinsouaizawa said:

Hi, I’m looking for a fic where Steve takes Bucky to the MoMA after the events of tws and Bucky sees a Rothko painting and he gets real emotional about it? I can’t find it and would love some help. Thanks!

elladoraevans sent in Captain America and the Great Pygmalion Debacle by Chianine (complete | 31,739 | E)

definemathinnumbers said:

I was wondering if anyone knew the story where Bucky and Steve are con artists in modern day, and Bucky gets busted and taken in by SHIELD so Steve disguised himself as an agent to sneak in after him. He gets caught and recruited. Modern!skinny!steve, he was colour blind, had hearing aids and scoliosis? Shitty apartment, saving money for a better place and art school with scams. Bucky was pretending to be selling a cruise when he’s busted by Nat and Clint I believe

Anon 3 said:

i searched for this fic in your blog but i can’t find it but i remember clearly that i found it on your blog sorry :/// so steve is a retired cap?? n they are choosing the new cap between bucky sharon n peggy n one time steve kidnaps bucky bc bucky is fury’s best agent n he has smth w fury?? there’s some smut as well i think hopefully u can help me thanks so much!!! ur blog is super helpful xxxx (steve n peggy are divorced n age gap between steve n bucky if it helps!!) thanks again

dolphinqueen10 sent in if you're looking for jesus (then get on your knees) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 18,171 | E)

alrightyaphrdite said:

fic where steve like works as santa in a mall and i’m p sure it closes down or something n he needs a new job n starts working for bucky around his cabin in the woods??? i can’t find this anywhere

gildinwenthekittenblog said:

There's a post Endgame fix where our Steve- goes back to the 2012 timeline, to try to get that Timeline's Bucky out from under Hydra control much earlier. He makes out with himself early on in the fic, as ruse to explain why Cap is HYDRA ( going under the alias of Chris) and he finds closure with Natasha and Tony of that TL, and I can't find it which sucks cos I really loved it :(

getstucky sent in darling heart, i loved you from the start (but that’s no excuse for the state i’m in) by voxofthevoid (oneshot | 19,725 | T)

soulsofsunshines said:

Hi! I'm looking for a shrinkyclinks fic, with ws!bucky as part of the avengers team (none of the avengers actually know anything about him). They keep asking him to join them for movie nights, but he turns them down. Then one day something happens (I think he maybe has a bit of a panic attack???) and tiny Steve shows up and reminds Bucky that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do - like sort of reminding him he's a person? I've been searching forever, any help is appreciated!

time-lord-no-more sent in A Matter of Pride(?) by Quarra (complete | 5,918 | M)

Anon 4 said:

hey im looking for this fic i lost.. it's a modern, no powers au and steve smokes weed for pain management (?), bucky has two big doggos (i think it was huskies) and they are neighbors who don't immediately hit it off?? thanks for the help! :)

Anon 5 said:

steve has blood on his hands but only he can see it, bucky doesnt talk to him anymore but hes in a group called “the trio” with nat and clint, steve has a panic attack on a mission when bucky dances with natasha, bucky tells him later that he couldnt be around him because he didnt want to risk hurting him and he knew nat would fight back if he went back into winter soldier mode thank you for your help!!

dolphinqueen10 sent in Blood on my Hands by Tator (oneshot | 7,820 | G)

tiredhomosapien said:

Hi I've tried looking through tags but I can't find the fic where: Bucky is currently in college and Natasha just broke up with him for being too boring. He's mopes a little but Steve ( pre-serum) pops up again after being gone for years. Steve is there to woo him and is actually a pretty successful artist, Bucky models nude for him at some point. Steve speaks multiple languages and at one pints tells Tony(?) to back off because he was there for Bucky. Thank you for all the work you do!

dolphinqueen10 and autonomygirl sent in Lessons In Chemistry by Brenda (complete | 42,392 | E)

Anon 6 said: (polyamory)

Hi there! I'm trying to refind poly au series in which steve and bucky ask out Nurse! Tony and the date was going great on the end of Steve/Tony but Bucky was glaring and aloof to Tony the entire date.

Anon 7 said: (mcd)

there was an abo fic and it was set in 40s, steve didn't receive the serum and bucky came home after war. they are bonded and married and bucky works in a garage that's ruled by the romanoffs. they have a lot of kids, like a lot. and at the end i think it was steve who died first then bucky followed him in couple days. it was a very cute one and i'd like to read it again, pls help me thanks!!

goldenmoleblr sent in Like Rahab by moonythejedi394 (complete | 131,789 | E) - check additional tags!

Anon 8 said: (Not Stucky)

Hello, Does anyone know of a fic where Bucky (I think) has a pet rock that someone glued onto a block of wood and added googly eyes and a tiara? It either said "Pretty Princess Award" or "I'm a pretty princess." I haven't been able to find it searching in the AU tags. Thanks!

Anon 9 said:

hello!!! im looking for a fic and the only part i can remember is this girl who works in the tower has a crush on bucky and then learns hes dating steve and tries to kiss bucky and take a picture so she can send it to steve but steve sees it happen and he yells at her, i think theres more to the one shot than this but i couldnt find it in your 5+1 tag, thank you for your help!

#group asks

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pt-writes · 3 years

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Obey Me - After Glow

This blog will absolutely have NSFW stuff on it. This references stuff more than anyone actually doing any of it but stil very NSFW

tw: references to spanking, biting, hickies, lots of cum, stockings, blow jobs.

Gender neutral MC spends a wild night with all 7 of the brothers. The mornings after are something special.

All The Boys X GN MC - NSFW

You woke up slowly, your consciousness floated back down from the lofty place it had soared up to after the night you had. Multiple warm bodies surrounded you. Your muscles pleasantly ached and stirred along with each moment closer to your eyes being opened.

You could still feel the weight of Beel laid across your stomach where he had passed out. Still between your legs, he had been the last one still going after most of the others stamina had run out. At some point he had slipped out of you, multiple loads you had taken dripped even now from your hole.

Tan, soft hands wrapped around your shoulders from behind. Mammon had been one of the first to go in his impatience before he settled where you could rest, leaned against him like this. He kept a ‘watchful eye’ on the proceedings that followed. It didn’t hurt that you could turn your head and suck his cock this way either. You had given him several more climaxes throughout the night this way, and he painted your face in return.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just get up and shower?” You asked. Your voice came out much rougher than you expected. You tried to clear your throat but it didn’t help much. A night of screaming and moaning can’t be recovered so easily.

What had brought about your awakened state was clear as the chill of a damp towel was felt across your chest. The action tingled after so many touches but the cold of it is a contrast that drew your attention instantly.

Lashes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side to see Satan there. He held the towel kneeled at the edge of the bed. He had started the long process of cleaning you up. He was thoughtful like that, especially since he had been the one to leave most of that mess there. He gave an apologetic smile as he noticed you looking up at him. “Go back to sleep, love.”

He shook his head and continued his slow, gentle clean up of your skin. Little circular motions of his thumb with the towel in areas where fluids had dried on. Fingers dug in a little where muscles were sure to appreciate it. You let him work. He wouldn’t be deterred.

Your gaze turned around to look for the others. No one is too far, except Lucifer. You didn’t see him anywhere and it gave your heart a little pang. Had he not stayed to enjoy the afterglow with everyone? With you? You knew he was a busy man but you had hoped. After the intense moment you had together that night, he might stay. The sting of nail marks down your back the only thing he’s left you with.

Your eyes do fall on Belphegor. He was curled up as close as he could possibly get into your right side. Face tucked into the crook of your hip, warm breaths came every few moments to blow over skin still raw and sensitive from the spanking he himself had given it. One arm curled around your leg. It effectively trapped you if the weight of his twin hadn’t enough to do that already.

“Finally, I was beginning to wonder if we had over done it.”

The voice made you turn your head back to your left. The smiling face of Asmodeus greeted you there. He had stirred awake himself very recently by the looks of it. He was well put together despite everything but that didn’t hide the way his hair was messed. He somehow managed to make even that look good. The memory of your hands in those locks, the surprised face he had made when you had pulled followed by the moan he had given. It was enough to make you clench and a fresh wave of cum dripped out of you again. Your breath caught as you lifted a hand up toward him and the lust demon took it with a soft chuckle.

“Don’t go getting worked up so soon again. You need at least a few hours more before you try that again.” Asmo teased as he pulled your hand to his lips and kissed your fingertips. A simmering in his eyes told you that he wouldl count the minutes if you let him though. Tease and work you up. By the time you would be ready again you’d be begging for it. The moment passed though and he retrieved a nail file from the bedside drawer. He made himself busy polishing your cute little hands. If you were going to be here awhile he could at least pretty you up some. Perhaps a nice pink on your nails to make the color your face turned when you were panting his name.

All the commotion and little movements caught Leviathan’s attention. He was next to Amso down on your left side. He was awake but little motions of his head told you he was trying not to nod off. Soft electric beeps from his phone lets you know he was playing some sort of game and oh! There was a picture of you on his lock screen that had clearly been taken last night. Angled to cut out most of the others but keep you in clear view, legs lifted and pressed together. You knew the moment well. Early on when you had still had remnants of clothes on. The edge of stockings on your legs visible. He had been thrusting between your thighs.

When he saw you look he quickly opened another app to hide it. His face flushed at having been caught. You felt something tighten around your upper left thigh and realize his tail is still there, clenched onto you tightly. He had been one of the few to transform. A jealous possessive moment or two where he had to make sure you were all his. You had to say. seeing him snap at his brothers and drag you flush to him had been kind of hot before he had reigned it in.

The door to the room opened and your heart jumped again. Several other demon’s eyes followed but when they saw who it was they went back to their various tasks. It’s Lucifer. He had found some time to get fully dressed but that hadn’t hid the purple lip shaped blotch that peeked out from under his collar you had given him. Oh, you were particularly proud of that one.

He carried a tray of food, the smell made your stomach give a rolling growl. You felt Beel’s nose twitch and you knew he would be stirring as well soon. No match for the scent of food, he must be hungry too.

“I thought you might be too occupied to go to breakfast.” Lucifer explained though you knew there was kindness behind that tone of voice. This was his plan from the start and the reason he had left earlier you were sure. “So I arranged to bring you something myself.” He closed the door quietly behind himself with a foot and brought the tray over to sit on the bedside table.

The room felt livier instantly. Mammon’s arm reached out for something from it only to be swatted away by Lucifer’s own. One demon gave the other a disapproving frown. When had Mammon woken up? You tilted your head and he pouted down at you. “Aw, I wanted to feed ‘em.” He groaned.

All of them are accounted for now and it made you happier than anything. The nights with them were amazing but it’s the mornings after that really make it for you.

“You’ll get your turn...last.” Lucifer’s expression slowly lightened up as he picked up a biscuit from the tray in one gloved hand and brought it closer to your mouth, waiting and open wide. He wasn’t fast enough for Beel though, who is fully awake now as well and leaned to snatch a bite of his own. Crumbs fell onto your chest that he leaned to lick up when he was done chewing.

“Oi! I just cleaned up there!” Satan complained with an exasperated sigh but the action tickled your skin. You were almost positive Beel was doing it on purpose now as a laugh came up from your throat. He loved your laugh. “Get something to drink first, food will go down easier that way.” He mouthed against your skin, followed by a hum of assurance.

Lucifer shook his head but knew his brother was correct. He forgot the biscuit and traded it in favor of a cup of warm soothing tea. His hands were so careful as he brought it to your lips. Mammon helped to prop you up some to meet it more upright and you took a long, thankful sip.

#OBEY ME #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me group

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vertanimeni · 4 years

Text

the ice will start to break, the day will fade away (8/18)

Summary:

“Have you heard? The Elephant of Caocin has committed high treason!”

From Trikru’s most reputable war hero to Trikru’s most wanted traitor, Kova found themselves stripped of their titles and trapped between a clan that wants them dead and a camp of invaders - the same ones who kidnapped and tortured their brother.

But Kova was willing to do anything to stay alive and keep their family together.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake/Grounder OC

Word Count: 4,007

TW: Canon typical violence, virus outbreak/illness

A/N: Hello friends!! I’m in the middle of finals week, so I won’t be able to work on CH 9 just yet. I should be back in action by next week, so wait for me and I’ll yeet Kova right back at y’all. If you’re reading through my blog, the read more does not show up due to Tumblr’s new formatting, so please click on the post itself. I’ll be updating every other day at 12pm EST. Enjoy!!

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⟻ Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ⟼

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viii. illness.

The fear of grounders and the strange unknown past the safe walls of the dropship was enough reason for the delinquents to pull their weight around camp. That was how Bellamy developed a routine for their camp to survive, to thrive — one group cut the wood, another group used the good wood to build the walls, and another would use the bad wood to control designated campfires, while another group would bring back buckets of water to the camp to boil. Etc, etc. Since Bellamy was the only adult in the entire camp, the delinquents listened to him.

Until he brought back the grounder.

Well, he didn’t want to bring back the grounder. Octavia and Raven had sneaked them in. All Bellamy did was carry them to camp until they went batshit crazy and attacked him. And, no offense to Wells, but he only carried them because he wanted to get back to camp as soon as possible, preferably without arrows in his back. Wells was far too slow, and Bellamy still remembered the way his knees trembled under their weight, ready to give out at any moment. Bellamy couldn’t blame him — when Octavia transferred the grounder’s body on his back, he felt as if he were Atlas carrying the world on his back.

Needless to say, Bellamy had woken up the next day sore in muscles he didn’t know he had.

Don’t get it twisted, though. It wasn’t like the delinquents would ignore him or anything of the sort. But now some of them would hesitantly say they would do it later, and the bolder ones would straight up say they have too many chores on their plate.

One choice, one grounder, and suddenly his reputation changed. Bellamy didn’t know if the delinquents were losing faith in him as their leader, or worse, thought of him as soft. His hands clenched into fists at the idea of being gentle with a grounder.

And if that weren’t enough, the one night he went out with the Exodus scavenger group, there had been a conflict between Harper and the grounder. He thought he had been specific enough with the guards, but not enough, he supposed.

“Don’t let them out of this tent for whatever reason.” Bellamy told the guards. “If you have to use force, do so. If you have to tie them up to the bed, do it.”

The moment he and Clarke had been informed what happened, he prepared for another round or two of arguing, but to his surprise, not only Clarke and Octavia defended the grounder, Monty did as well.

“As much as Jasper’s my bro,” Monty sighed, shaking his head, “he was being a real dick about the situation. So was Harper.”

One grounder shaped headache turned into a Murphy shaped migraine, with his sudden appearance and capture while they were gone. And if that weren’t enough, Murphy had also brought a disease with him. Derek practically coughed up a lung before he died in the dropship, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, and Bellamy could only stare at his body while Clarke poured alcohol in his hands.

“Bellamy!”

He startled, shaken out of his thoughts. “Mmh. Sorry. What do you think we should do?"

“Quarantine. It’s the only way.” Clarke turned to Finn and dumped the rest of the alcohol on his hands. “Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy and bring them here.”

Finn wordlessly nodded and ran off. Bellamy looked back at Clarke. “What about everyone they had contact with?”

“Well, we have to start somewhere.” She responded, facing Connor on the floor. “Connor, who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in?”

The boy took a deep breath, still unnerved that he could die at any moment because of this disease. “F-First one there was O-Octavia.” He managed to stutter out.

Bellamy wished he hadn’t.

Clarke’s voice barely registered in Bellamy’s mind as he sprinted out of the drophip to find his little sister.

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Lying on their stomach, arms crossed under their pillow, drool pooling beneath their cheek, Kova woke up with one instinctual thought screaming out a warning.

‘Someone is inside my tent.’

The hair on the back of their neck pricked up. A ripple ran across the fabric of the tent. Definitely not Octavia or Clarke, based on the heavy and uncertain footsteps entering the tent. Definitely not Wells — he wouldn’t sneak into their tent in the first place.

No, whoever this may be, they wore heavier boots.

The conflict last night came to mind, with two faces at the forefront. Jasper and… Harper, was it? Although they couldn’t remember what the two gunners wore last night, Kova couldn’t think of anyone else who would willingly enter their tent, regardless of intentions.

While this certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to kill them in their sleep, Kova had no intention of making it their very last time, either.

Acting as if they had been disturbed in their sleep, they shifted and rolled onto their side, grumbling bleary nonsense, and strategically placed their hand by the pile of clothes. The footsteps had stopped when Kova moved, then resumed a few moments after Kova stilled.

The footsteps approached their bed, heavier, determined.

Snatching a dagger from the pile of clothes and holsters, they flipped the handle and swung their arm back at knee-level. Just before the knife tore out a tendon, Kova caught a glimpse at the intruder’s face and stopped the swing just before the point could prick at Bellamy’s skin.

Startled at the sudden attack, Bellamy took a step back far too late if Kova had gone through with their attack. Irritation passed over his features, face tightening. All he wanted was to find his sister for fucks sake, not get shanked in the leg by some grounder. "What do you think you're doing?"

Losing momentum from the swing, Kova flopped back onto the bed and face planted into their pillow. “Tch, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” They grumbled out as they pushed themselves up. “What made you think sneaking up on me would be a good idea?”

“Wasn’t trying to.” His eyes narrowed. “How did you get a weapon?”

Kova notably froze, muscles tensing, before they relaxed and the lie easily slipped off their tongue, “Stole it. Your guards aren’t very good at guarding.”

That seemed to spark an angry fire behind Bellamy’s eyes, but before he could rise to their bait, he shook his head. “No, you know what? We’re not doing this right now. Where’s Octavia?”

“A-Oct?” They whipped their head towards him in shock. “Why? Did something happen?”

“The fuck did you just call her?”

“It’s a nickname, relax. I haven’t seen her since last night. You didn’t answer my question.”

“One of ours came back yesterday — Murphy. Your people infected him with something and sent him here. One of the guards just died from it and the one that survived said Octavia had first contact with Murphy.”

‘Ah. That name. Lincoln mentioned it before.’ Kova grabbed their clothes wordlessly and tied their dreads back in a low bun. They swung one leg over the bed and used their hands to guide the injured leg to follow.

“What are you doing?”

They snapped their head up. Bellamy watched them with confusion written on his face. “What does it look like?” They didn’t bother with the armor and kept their undershirt on, pulling their jacket on top. “I’m going. You find Octavia, I’ll help Clarke or whoever with Murphy and the infected.”

“And who said you’re allowed to do all that?” His question came through gritted teeth.

“I did.” They stuck their feet into their pant holes and stood up, wincing at the stretch of both the bandage and the cut. They stepped closer to him as they tied off their pants around their hips. “What will you do, stop me?”

To his frustration and their satisfaction, they sent him an obnoxious smirk when their eyes met, and to top it all off, they bent over and picked up their boots that were next to Bellamy before sitting back on the bed, shoving their feet in. “Unless you want your little sister running off to my bad little brother for information.”

His jaw tightened. Bait caught, fish captured. With a resigned look, Bellamy gestured with his hand for them to hurry up. Kova looked down to tie off their boots, only for an open hand to appear in their sight. Bellamy twitched his fingers. They looked up at him, confused.

“Cough it up.”

“What?”

“What else? The knife.”

“Seriously?” They gave a sigh at his glare and reached behind, passing him the dagger. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice it didn’t belong to the invaders. He barely glanced at it before he tucked it beneath his belt—

“Clarke!!”

The two shot up. They glanced at each other briefly, wearily, before they left the tent. Kova left their mask behind.

The entire camp was in chaos — the delinquents ran around in a frenzy while their friends bled out of their eyes and ears. Some had already fallen to the ground, twitching every once in a while.

Kova cursed, watching the horrifying scene with wide eyes. They snapped out of it with a shake of their head and grabbed Bellamy’s arm. “Go find Octavia and bring her to your dropship. She has to get checked out ASAP.”

Bellamy didn’t need telling twice. He ran off and Kova made their way to the dropship. They pulled back the curtain and was hit with a wave of drying blood, vomit, and death. Suppressing a gag and a wave of memories, they pushed through and found Clarke.

“Kova,” Clarke turned around, the lower half of her face covered by a handkerchief. “You have to stay away, there’s an infection—”

“It’s alright.” They cut her off as they made their way through the first floor, throwing their jacket on top of stacked boxes, carefully making sure they didn’t step on outstretched hands or careless feet. “I’ve been infected with this virus at least three times already. If this strain hasn’t killed you all yet, then it certainly won’t touch me.” They glanced at a dead body at the side of the entrance, covered with a cloth. “Who’s patient zero?”

“Murphy. How did you know—?”

“Bellamy.”

Out of all the responses Clarke would have expected from Kova, Bellamy was not one of them. “You saw him?”

“He was looking for his sister.” They explained. “I can show you what symptoms to keep an eye on, but I need to see Murphy first. I’m no doctor, but I know every strain is different, so what I’ve seen before might not apply here.”

Clarke nodded and brought Kova to the very back of the first floor, where Murphy was resting in a corner, huddled in a blanket. Kova crouched in front of him, taking note of severe visible injuries. Some, unfortunately, very familiar. ‘Tortured. By who? The General?’

Before they could bring up their wounds, the curtains of the entrance flung to the side. Bellamy entered, holding a cloth to his face, dragging Octavia close behind him. The two bee-lined for Clarke.

Kova dropped their knee and turned around. “Clarke, if she’s not visibly sick then you need to look for swelling at the roof and the back of her mouth, her throat, and around the neck. Those are the most common symptoms of this virus.”

Behind them, Murphy stirred awake. Even through his bleariness, he recognized Clarke, Octavia, and Bellamy standing far in front of him, but the person crouched in front of him was unfamiliar. That already rang alarms in his head, seeing as no sky person would be unfamiliar to him. They all grew up with one another, after all.

If their strange clothing didn’t ring the alarm louder, then the tattoos traveling up their arm and the circular welts across the back of their shoulder did. Ice flooded his veins, and he was suddenly much more awake. He kicked out with his feet and pressed his back against the wall.

This, unfortunately for him, alerted whoever was in front of him. They turned and confirmed his suspicions when he saw five dots tattooed along their cheekbone. They turned back to Clarke.

Unfortunately for them, the damage was done. They unknowingly revealed themselves. This wasn’t your average grounder, this was—

“Elephant of Caocin!”

With just a phrase, the question on Kova’s tongue died and shriveled up along with them. Bellamy never thought he would see them with a look of pure fear. But there they were, eyes wide, mouth dropped, breath hitched and caught in their throat, hands trembling and fingers clenching into fists.

Before anyone could break the icy silence, Kova whirled upon Murphy. The boy was smart enough to scramble away from them against the wall, but he must have a death wish, because he actually laughed in their face! “Yeah, that’s right!” His voice was awfully confident for someone cowering away. “I know your dirty little secret, you fucking grounder. Your general and lieutenant had a lot to say about the Elephant of Caocin, the traitor of Tri— whatever the fuck your clan is called—”

“Murphy!” Clarke warned.

“—the scum of the Earth with five drops of ink across their cheek!”

Kova lunged forward, fist colliding across Murphy’s cheek in a satisfying punch. They would have thrown another if it weren’t for two arms linking under their armpits and dragging them away, even as they thrashed and cursed and kicked their legs. Murphy barked out a laugh, even with his cheek bright red and bleeding and his eye already swelling.

“Let. Go!” They hurtled their body away and pressed their hand against the wall, leaning for support, their breaths coming in quick short successions. They had been dragged behind a wall, a barrier between them and Murphy.

They felt the weight of a hand on their shoulder blade, the warmth seeping through their clothes. “…hey.”

“What, Bellamy.” They snapped, but they didn’t reject the touch.

“Murphy’s a dick—”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“—and he’ll do anything to get a rise out of someone.” Bellamy continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I don’t know what that shit was about, but don’t forget we’re here for Octavia.”

Their jaw and hand clenched, but Kova nodded, pushing themselves off the wall. They used the back of their hand to scrub their nose and sniffed before rising to their full height. “Right. You’re right. Octavia first.”

He pulled his hand away, and for a second too long, Kova wished he hadn’t. They shook their head and made their way back, shoulders tense. They snatched a group of tongue depressors from one of the tables and brushed past Octavia and Clarke, despite the girls' soft protests. Crouching in front of Murphy, who scrambled away from them, they said, “Open your mouth.”

“Why, will you torture me just like your little friends?” The boy sneered, but his voice wavered in fear.

“No. I need to see if you’ve gotten to the peak of the virus. Open your mouth.”

“Murphy, just let Kova check it out.” Clarke said as she checked Octavia’s throat with a flashlight.

“Since when were you friends with the grounders? Let alone scum like them.” Murphy tried cutting Kova with his words, only to be disappointed that they didn’t respond. Instead, they counted the tongue depressors in their hands and tied them up.

Clarke also ignored him with a roll of her eyes and explained Octavia’s evaluation. “Okay, we’re done here. No visible signs of swelling or bleeding.”

“So you’re saying she doesn’t have it?” Bellamy asked.

While the three talked, Murphy spat in Kova’s face. Luckily for them, they had a feeling he was planning on doing something incredibly stupid and had closed their eyes and mouth just in time.

Three audible gasps came from behind the two. Kova could hear Bellamy’s heavy boots stepping close.

To the trio's surprise, Kova wiped their face calmly with their hand and opened their eyes. No one expected the resounding smack across his face, the palm of their hand striking where they had punched him before, strong enough to send him sprawling across the floor.

He sat up, holding his cheek with a groan, and just as he opened his mouth to curse them out, Kova crudely stuck the stacked and tied tongue droppers between the right side of his teeth, forcing his jaw open. Murphy’s eyes widened in panic, and just as his hands scrambled to take the object out of his mouth, Kova grabbed both his wrists in one hand and held him down.

“Clarke.” The three sky people had never heard Kova’s voice so… frigid before. “Come here.”

Clarke glanced between the Blake siblings, unsure, before she approached slowly.

Kova took the flashlight and pointed it to various areas of Murphy’s mouth. “See here? The gums and uvula are always the first to swell, and so does the back of the throat. But since he already vomited, the swelling of the throat and uvula go down first. His gums might bleed, but otherwise, he’s well past the peak already. Not surprising, since he’s patient zero. You should find something similar with the others infected.”

They returned the flashlight and released Murphy’s hands. He tried pulling the tongue depressors out to no avail. He had the nerve to glare at Kova.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want the scum of the Earth touching you, right?” The sneer they sent him was no less than pure vengeance.

Clarke passed them a bottle of alcohol and a rag. They thanked her and wiped down their hands and their face. “Is there a cure?” The sky leader asked.

A shake of Kova’s head brought all their shoulders down in distraught. “The only cure is natural selection. The virus can rapidly evolve if there were enough people, but since there’s less than a hundred people here, we don’t have to worry about its evolution. If Murphy is already getting better, than it'll take two to three days for the virus to fully pass the camp.”

“So we just wait it out?” Octavia asked.

“Essentially, yes. Until everyone clears up.”

”Bellamy, do you want to stop the spread or not?” Clarke referred to the conversation and him were having before. She rubbed a finger into the side of her temple, trying to sooth the headache forming. The idea of quarantine was difficult in such a small space, but they would have to manage.

His gaze fell over Octavia. “She’ll get sick just being here.”

“Look, I’ll keep her on the third level with the other people who aren’t symptomatic just yet. Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again.”

“Screw you, Clarke.”

Kova snorted. Octavia sent them a weak hearted glare.

Bellamy pointed behind his shoulder with his thumb. “I have to get the others to work on the wall. There might be another retaliation soon. Stay safe.” He looked at Kova. “You… We’ll have a talk later.”

Oh. Oh no. Their eyes widened ever so slightly. A resigned sigh passed their lips. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Kova tugged the bottom of their shirt to wipe their face again. “If this is settled, I’ll go clean up and bring separate water for you guys.”

It wasn't a complete lie. They were going to get them water, after they get their weapons from whichever tent the invaders hid them in.

The two left the dropship together.

Just as Octavia placed a hand on the ladder, ready to head up in isolation, a hand stopped her.

Clarke leaned against the ladder, all her energy disappearing. “Octavia, wait. I need you to sneak out again.”

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So Octavia snuck out on Clarke’s orders. She was a bit peeved that Clarke didn’t trust Kova—

(Although Clarke said “It’s not that I don’t trust them, but they can’t be our only source. Lincoln might know something they don’t.” But Octavia knew that was probably bullshit.)

—but at least this meant she could see Lincoln again. She just wished it was under better circumstances.

As soon as she arrived at the entrance of Lincoln’s home, she didn’t bother knocking and walked down the stairs and called out his name a few times. He had already been waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He hurriedly lifted the sides of her hair.

It took her a moment to realize what he was doing. Realization crossed over her face, and she couldn’t help but step away from him. “You knew.

It wasn’t a question.

His jaw clenched ever so slightly. “I tried to tell you, but you never came.“

“You were too late. I found the kid your people sent to infect us.” Octavia hissed out. “My people are dying, Lincoln. Clarke sent me here for a cure.”

“There is no cure.” His eyebrows creased. “Did Kova not tell you?”

Octavia’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, but Clarke wanted to know if you knew something they might not.” Anger bubbled inside her throat once more. “Wait, so you were just going to let my people die? You were going to let me die?”

“The sickness passes quickly.” Lincoln defended himself. “There are a few who are immune. We just use it to soften the battlefield. I’m not surprised you are one of the strong.” He placed a hand on her shoulder in pride, only for hurt to flash in his eyes when she pulled away from him.

“Battlefield? What are you talking about?”

“The warriors are attacking at first light.”

“You have to help me save them.”

“I can’t! I’ve tried already, and now my sibling is a fugitive and my people think we’re both traitors.”

“Why, because of the bridge? You were just trying to make peace!”

“It… It wasn’t just the bridge.”

Octavia looked down, recalling what Murphy had been rambling about before. “The boy — Murphy — he called Kova the Elephant of… cao-something. What was…” The question died on her lips at the look of horror across Lincoln’s face. “Lincoln?”

A shaky sigh passed his lips. “He what? How did he know?”

“He said a lieutenant and a general talked about them — that they were the scum of the Earth or something. Lincoln,” she placed a hand on his cheek, encouraging him to look at her. “What was that about?”

He leaned into her soft touch. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He changed the subject abruptly. “I’m leaving, Octavia. Soon. I want you to come with me and Kova.”

She dropped her hand in shock. “To where?”

“There’s a clan - east to the sea, then across it. They’re allies of the woods but they’ll take us in, I personally know the leader. I’ve already sent a message to her asking for a safe passage.”

For her whole life she was stuck in the Ark underneath that cramped space and then stuck in a cell just for being born only until a few weeks ago. But now she had the opportunity to travel around the Earth freely? The idea was almost tempting. But thinking of her brother and her friends, she hesitated. “I… I can’t just let my brother get killed.”

“There’s nothing you can do about that now.”

“I can warn them.”

By the Gods, she was stubborn. It was one of the many traits he loved about her, but not at this moment. “Octavia, they will kill you. If you’re there at dawn—”

“I won’t.” She took a step back, heading towards the stairs. “Just wait for me here. I’m coming with you.”

“…wait.” Lincoln held her wrist with enough strength to make her pause, but gentle enough that she could break free if she wished. That was one of the many things she loved about him — he rarely grabbed her, nor did he try to manhandle her like others.

She leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on the side of his mouth, but then he turned his head, and the kiss deepened just for a moment until Octavia reluctantly broke it off first. “I’m coming back to you.”

“…I know.”

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