#cried twice!! chewed through walls!! lost my mind!!

[nostalgiachan]

Baldurian Finger Trap

Second Prompt: One of the companions has been gone from camp for a very long time

Act Three Spoiler Warning

---

“Darling, it’s Minsc,” Astarion sighed, his hand gently landing on Vier’s shoulder. “That lummox would get lost on a straight path, I’m certain. And lest we forget, he’s a grand world-saving hero…twice over, yes? So any poor soul dumb enough to try to jump him on his little outing will get the quite literal spanking of a lifetime.”

Vier reached a hand up to meet Astarion’s. In any other circumstance, she would have agreed with him. But in the last tenday or so, their camp had been met with one attempted abduction, one successful abduction, and multiple visits from a deviless who she was sure would look for any excuse to cause them problems. The party had relocated to a room in the Elfsong Tavern in hopes that it would prove a slightly more defensible location than a wide-open alleyway in the slums by the docks, but that did little to put Vier’s mind at ease. On top of all that, the last time Minsc ‘went missing’, he’d gotten a worm jammed in his skull, and before that, turned into a statue. She trusted him to take care of himself, but there was no denying the man’s a lightning rod of misfortune.

It had been a day since Minsc had headed out into the Lower City on some sort of errand. About the only person who knew where he was headed was Jaheira, who’d lightly scoffed when asked. “Why does everyone seem to think me the man’s keeper now?” she’d replied when Vier asked about him. “He’d said something about taking Boo to the marketplace. Something ‘urgent’, apparently.” She did admit that it shouldn’t have taken him this long to come back from market, and he wasn’t exactly the type to go carousing through the streets and accidentally fall asleep in an alley somewhere.

Vier wasn’t prone to assuming the worst, but in this case, she could no longer take chances. “I know,” she answered Astarion as she ran a thumb over his hand, “but I’d be much more at ease if I knew for certain. I’ll go out to look for him by myself. No sense dragging anyone else along just to soothe my paranoia.”

“Well, I’d be remiss if I let you go looking on your own,” Astarion replied with faux exasperation. “Two sets of eyes will get the job done faster, after all. I do hope you appreciate this.”

“You know I always do, dear.”

. . .

If there was anywhere Vier had expected to ultimately find the Mad Rasheman, it was not facing a stone wall just off the marketplace, two of his fingers jammed in a tiny hole. He looked deep in concentration, attempting to wiggle his hands together, apart, this way and that. He didn’t seem to notice Vier and Astarion as they approached him. The startled roar that escaped the man as Vier spoke up was one for the ages.

“Friends!” he cheered at last when he realized who was speaking to him. “Hurrah for you, that you have finally come to free Minsc and Boo from this dire situation!”

Vier couldn’t keep her clear befuddlement from her face. “What, erm…’dire situation’ is this, precisely?” she asked.

“To put simply,” Minsc began in earnest, “I am stuck. You see, Boo wished for me to take him on a trip to market. He’d heard word someone would be selling a foreign nut he’s grown quite fond of, and he would not stop chewing at my bootstrings until I agreed to buy some for him. Oh, you should have seen his joy as he stuffed his chubby cheeks!”

The mountain of a man practically glowed for a moment as he recalled the sight, but he quickly returned to himself. “But for a split second, I turned my eyes from Boo, that I might pay for his meal, and when I looked back, he had vanished! I cried out for him, looked everywhere I could, but I couldn’t see the tiniest hint of his fuzzy self anywhere!”

For a moment, Vier found herself caught between wanting Minsc to cut to the chase and wanting to listen patiently, deeply curious as to how all of that led to all of this. Her curiosity won out in the end.

“I nearly tore the marketplace apart in my search,” he continued, “but then, I heard it! The cry of a hamster in deep distress! I followed the noise, and came upon this hole in the wall here - and trapped deep inside was Boo! I wondered if perhaps he had developed a nut-induced teleportation ability, but Boo was quick to explain what had happened. As I was paying for the nuts, a young child in the market had mistaken Boo for an escaped pet of hers, and snatched him away! She’d made it quite some distance before realizing he was not, in fact, her beloved Tummytuft, and released him promptly on the other side of this wall.”

“Boo took to his tiny feet as quickly as he could, doing his best to return to me, but he made a fatal mistake. He was feeling far too sluggish to run around the wall, so attempted to take a shortcut through this hole here. But he had gorged himself on far too many nuts, and had grown too bloated to make it through. Thus, when Minsc came upon him, there was only one thing to do! I simply had to reach right in and get him out! But, it seems, my fingers are far too large, and became stuck between Boo’s girth and the stone as surely as if he was covered in sticky glue! And thus, here we are.”

There was hardly a second of silence between them before Astarion could no longer hold back his laughter. “What a wonderfully convoluted predicament,” he snorted. “You’ve been stuck with your fingers in this hole for an entire day?! Absolutely incredible!”

Vier, at least, made the attempt to be nice about it. “I assume you called out for help. Did no one answer?”

Minsc replied, “I most certainly did! And most saw fit to pass me by, notably averting their gazes. The one or two brave souls who did lend a hand, however, had little success in freeing us. In fact, as time has gone on, it seems to have become even harder to make any sort of progress. My fingers may have begun to swell in there, I fear.”

“Oh dear, alright,” Vier sighed, and she swung her supply bag off of back, setting it on the ground and rifling through to produce a brown bottle. “Fortunately, I tend to keep a bit of grease on hand for just such an occasion. Should be able to get you out with just a bit of finesse.” She dipped a small wooden applicator into the grease as she approached the stone wall. “Pardon me, Mr. Boo,” she attempted to speak into small gap between Minsc’s fingers. “You may wish to hold your breath a moment. Don’t want you swallowing any of this. Won’t kill you, but it won’t be pleasant.”

After about half an hour of wiggling, liberal applications of grease, and plenty of moral support from Astarion (read: laughter), Minsc and Boo were finally freed from their stony prison. Boo looked like he’d been through the first layer of the hells, his fur matted with finger sweat and grease, a look of pure frazzlement on his furry little face - or at least as much of one as a hamster could show. He’d be headed straight to a warm bath as soon as they got back to the Elfsong, and Minsc would be getting a healthy dose of ice against his fingers to get the swelling down.

As they tromped their way back to the inn, Vier breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, she’d been right about Minsc being in trouble, but in light of everything they’d faced up until now…well, this was just the low-stakes sort of adventure they needed.

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #minsc #baldur's gate 3 tav #drow tav #vier alurlssrin

[steelycunt]

mitski @ brixton <3

#she was INSANE oh my god #didn’t take many photos/vids but she was. crazy my god best concert ive ever been to i think!! #cried twice!! chewed through walls!! lost my mind!! #faces #mitski #she gave a special shout-out to short people I felt seen <3 #screamed at drunk walk home…one of the best moments of my life everyone HOWLED it was incredible <33

[beifongsss]

warmth [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: yes!: “maybe running from fire nation and hiding in a cave with zuko? zuko and reader think they each hate each other but they rlly don’t 👀“

Summary: You and Zuko get separated from the Gaang and things happen :)

w.c. ~3.1k

.masterlist.

~

The day had started out normally.

You were the second person to wake up, Zuko being the first. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, crawling out of your sleeping bag and walking over to Appa, patting the sky bison before grabbing your bag and reaching for a peach that you had stuffed away. When peaches were present, Momo couldn’t be trusted. 

“You really take that whole ‘I rise with the sun’ thing to heart, huh?” you asked dryly, sitting across from the prince. He huffed lightly, crossing his arms before looking away. You smirked smugly, knowing that his silence meant that he couldn’t think of a comeback. 

The silence didn’t last long before Zuko turned back to you. “Spirits! Could you chew any louder?”

“I don’t know, let me try,” you replied, chewing obnoxiously. Zuko glared at you before standing and walking away, turning slightly so you couldn’t see the faint smile tugging at his lips. You stared after him, biting back a smile of your own. 

The group was already used to the banter between you and the scarred prince. It had started way before he joined the Gaang, back when he still had that god-awful ponytail and thought that capturing the Avatar would restore his honor. He had aimed a plume of fire just a bit too close to you and you had let one sly remark slip, your jaw dropping in shock when the prince responded in kind. 

Ever since then, you always made sure that you pissed Zuko off whenever you had an encounter. It was just too easy to rile him up. 

That didn’t change when he joined your side. If anything, it got worse. You didn’t miss a single opportunity to get on his nerves and eventually, Zuko found himself anticipating your remarks. It gave him a sense of normalcy. You didn’t treat him any differently than you ever had and as weird as it was to admit, he didn’t mind the attention you bestowed upon him. Of course, he couldn’t deny that you had really gotten on his nerves that one time he had lost his firebending. 

It was silent in the clearing after Zuko walked away, and you proceeded to make everyone breakfast. A while later, everyone emerged, mumbling a sleepy thanks as you handed them a bowl of rice porridge. The six of you sat in a circle around the small campfire, enjoying the small moment of peace you had. 

“Thanks for breakfast, (Y/N),” Katara said softly, smiling at you over the rim of her bowl. 

“Yeah! This is amazing,” Sokka said, tilting the bowl to get the last of the porridge into his mouth. 

“I thought it was a little bland,” Zuko commented off-handedly. Your eye twitched as Aang gave a nervous chuckle. Katara looked at you worriedly as Sokka tried to ignore Zuko’s comment. At your lack of response, Zuko smirked and opened his mouth yet again. “I’m certain that Momo could’ve made us a better breakfast.”

“Next time, make your own damn breakfast,” you snapped, slamming your bowl down onto the ground before turning to face Zuko. “Oh wait, that’s right. Poor little Prince Pouty doesn’t know how to do anything for himself!”

“At least I know how to control my temper,” Zuko shot back, glancing at your now-cracked bowl.

“Oh that’s rich coming from the guy who once set me on fire because I accidentally spilled some water on him!” you replied, remembering the unfortunate incident. You now had a very prominent scar on your leg as a reminder.

“Guys,” Aang called out. “Maybe we should save this for later.”

“Really?” Zuko asked, jumping to his feet. “What about the time you almost stabbed me because I accidentally stepped on Momo’s tail?”

“Hello? You stepped on Momo’s tail!” you cried out, jumping to your feet as well. “He hates you now!”

“Well at least Appa likes me,” Zuko said, thinking about the time Appa threw you off his back because you had accidentally yanked his hair. 

“Appa does like me,” you snapped, a groan emitting from the sky bison as he agreed with your statement. 

“Guys!” Aang yelled loudly, getting your attention.

“What?!” you and Zuko snapped in unison. 

“Look behind you,” Sokka said quietly, his boomerang ready in his hand. You whirled around to see a group of Fire Nation soldiers standing amongst the trees. A low hiss escaped you as you smacked Zuko’s arm. 

“See what you did?” you asked, your eyes never leaving the soldiers. “Your yelling led them straight to us.”

“My yelling?” Zuko scoffed, getting into a defensive position. “If I recall correctly, it was actu-”

“Guys!” Toph yelled angrily, sending the two of you a harsh glare. “Now really isn’t the time for this.”

You nodded sheepishly, readying yourself to fight as well. The six of you quickly realized you were outnumbered and realized that your best possible option in that moment was to escape. You all gathered up your supplies quickly, rushing towards Appa. A guard stepped in front of you suddenly, knocking you down before aiming a blast of fire at you. You rolled out of the way, leaping to your feet before sending a kick to his head and knocking him down. 

“Yip yip, Appa!” Sokka yelled, sitting at the reins. 

“Wait!” Katara cried. “(Y/N) is still down there!”

“What?” Sokka screeched, looking down at the ground as he tried to locate you. He noticed a group of soldiers trying to surround you as you fought them off. 

“Go!” you yelled, waving them away as you began to run the other direction. 

“We’re not leaving you!” Aang yelled, getting ready to hop off of Appa. 

“I’ll lead them away and then meet up with you,” you replied, rushing off. “I promise! I’ll be fine.”

You were gone before anyone could say anything else, disappearing into the trees as half of the soldiers followed you. The other half turned their attention to Appa, ready to attack. 

“Yip yip,” Sokka cried again, receiving disbelieving looks from everyone else. He gave them a shrug, trying to hide his worry. “She’ll be fine. She’s gone through worse. C’mon we can’t lose faith in her.”

The rest of the group nodded softly, sighing in relief as Appa left the ground. Their relief was cut short when Zuko leapt off of Appa, landing on the ground and kicking his leg to send out an arc of fire towards the remaining soldiers. 

“Zuko! What are you doing?” Katara yelled, looking over the edge of the saddle in a panic. 

“Go,” came Zuko’s rough reply. “I’ll stay with her. I’ll protect her.”

It was silent as the group watched Zuko sprint away. Appa didn’t stop and Sokka made no effort to bring the sky bison back down to the ground, watching as Zuko fought off each soldier effortlessly. He hummed lightly, drawing everyone’s attention to himself as he turned his attention back to the reins. “You know, I’m willing to bet five gold pieces that by the time we find them, they will have smooched at least twice.”

Toph grinned at Sokka’s statement, her fear of flying temporarily forgotten. 

“Oh you’re on, snoozles.”

~

You weren’t sure how you had managed to evade the soldiers for as long as you had. You were out of breath, panting heavily as you sprinted through the forest. Looking around, you knew you needed to find somewhere to hide. No matter how good at fighting you were, you knew that you couldn’t fight off all those Fire Nation soldiers. As you darted between the trees, your ankle got caught on a tree root and you went tumbling onto the ground. You groaned as you laid on the ground for a moment, opening your eyes to get a bearing of your surroundings. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed a gap in the cliff a few yards to your right. It would’ve been unnoticable from any other angle and you silently thanked your clumsiness for leading you to safety. 

“She went that way!” you heard a soldier shout. Biting back a gasp, you scrambled to your feet and sprinted to the opening in the cliff. You squeezed inside, pulling on some of the hanging vines around it to better conceal your location. You head faint footsteps coming your way and you stilled, crouching down to get a better look outside. 

Stifling a groan, you darted outside, grabbing the person by the collar of their shirt and dragging them back inside the cave with you. 

“H-Hey what’s your problem?” Zuko asked as you pushed him up against the cave wall. You shushed him softly, placing your hand over his mouth. His skin heated up under your touch and he froze for a moment before snapping out of it and grabbing your wrist, pushing you away from him. 

You stumbled slightly before landing on your butt, scowling at Zuko but remaining silent. You cocked your head to the side as you heard footsteps walking by. 

“We lost them,” a gruff voice said, sounding a lot closer to the cliff than you liked.

“They can’t have gotten far,” another voice replied. “We’ll set up camp in the clearing over there. The prince is too valuable to let go.”

A noise of agreement was made before the footsteps faded and you found yourself walking up to Zuko and pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. 

“What are you doing here?” you hissed quietly, still on edge. 

“Saving you, that’s what?” Zuko snorted, once again gripping your wrist and forcing you to let go of his shirt. 

“No! Now they’re going to hunt us,” you replied, turning around and walking away. “They would’ve given up sooner or later, Zuko. I’m not important. But now they won’t leave because you came after me!”

“So now you’re upset?” Zuko asked, whisper-yelling. “I took out half of those soldiers! You’re welcome.”

“Yes I’m upset. Now because of you, we’re stuck in here!”

Zuko’s eyes widened as he realized you were right. There was no way that the two of you could leave the cave, not with the Fire Nation soldiers camping out a few yards away. He cursed under his breath before observing you. You had walked to the other side of the cave, leaning against the wall and sliding down until you were sitting on the ground. He looked outside, noticing the sun going down and walked towards the entrance. 

“Where are you going?” you whispered, keeping your eyes on him.

“I’m going to get some firewood. I’ll be quiet.”

“Are you serious right now, Zuko?” you asked exasperatedly. “We cannot start a fire in here. They’ll see the smoke escaping through the entrance.”

Zuko paused for a moment, knowing you were right before walking over to you and taking a seat a few feet away from you. “It’s getting dark out. It’ll get cold soon and something tells me that Aang isn’t going to find us that quickly.”

You looked at the entrance to the cave, knowing that he was right. It was getting darker by the minute and without a fire, you were in for a cold night. Zuko watched your expression, getting a bit worried. As a firebender, he had no issue with the cold; but you weren’t a firebender and he was worried about you. 

Silence engulfed the two of you as night fell. The temperature fell ridiculously quickly and you found yourself curled up into a ball as you tried to warm yourself up. You shot a glance towards Zuko, scowling deeply when you noticed him lost deep in thought. He was sprawled out on the ground, not shivering at all as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. You rolled your eyes, looking away before hugging yourself even tighter.

“Can you stop your chattering?” Zuko asked suddenly, turning his head to look at you. “It’s quite distracting.”

You glared at him, shivering lightly. “I’m sorry, is me being cold inconveniencing you? Not all of us can firebend, Prince Zuko. And my teeth are not chattering!”

Zuko didn’t reply, instead standing up and walking over to you. You glanced up at him suspiciously, frowning when he took a seat right next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and avoiding your gaze.

“Zuko, what are you doing?” you whispered, unable to move your face from where it was buried into his neck. Zuko shivered at your words, keeping you tucked into him as he tried to control his blush.

“Keeping you warm,” Zuko replied. “What does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked softly, tilting back slightly to meet your eyes. You avoided his gaze, curling into him even more. He was exceptionally warm, and you felt yourself sinking into him to avoid the chilly air within the cave. Zuko’s arms tightened around you as he shifted, bringing you into his lap as he made himself more comfortable. 

“You hate me,” you whispered, still hiding your face from him. Your arms snaked around his waist, allowing you to dig your face into his chest and hide even more. 

“W-What? No I don’t!” Zuko cried, earning a shush from you. “If anything, you hate me.”

“N-No I don’t!” you exclaimed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. 

“Yes you do!”

“Why would I hate you?” you asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

“I don’t know!” Zuko said, a confused expression on his face. You thought he looked rather cute. “I get why you would hate me back when I was the bad guy, but I’ve changed! I thought that by now you would like me.”

“Zuko, I never hated you,” you replied. “Not even back when you were the ‘bad’ guy. You were always fun to banter with and I thought that you wanted things to stay that way.”

“What on earth gave you that idea?” Zuko asked, looking at you in shock.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you always had something to say in return to my remarks,” you stated, looking at him blankly.

“Well you always start it,” Zuko accused. You paused for a second, knowing that he was right.

“Well you always reply!”

Zuko let out a frustrated groan. “That’s because you keep teasing me if I don’t.”

“Okay, but that’s becau- mmph.”

Your eyes went wide as Zuko pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up. You froze for a split second, not believing that this was happening. Zuko pulled away, a smirk on his face as he took in your flushed face and dazed expression. 

“Not so mouthy now are y-”

This time it was you who cut Zuko off, pressing your lips to his almost feverishly. Your arms left his waist, coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him impossibly close. Zuko responded better than you did, immediately returning the kiss and angling his head just so in order to deepen it. You melted against him, causing Zuko to smirk into the kiss before he began trailing kisses down your neck. 

A gasp escaped your mouth as you felt him leave a mark on you before you tangled your hands in his hair, pulling his face back up to kiss him again. You couldn’t remember feeling cold anymore, the feeling of Zuko’s lips on yours and his arms around your waist erasing any thoughts about the chilly air in the cave. Now all you could feel was warmth. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, I like you,” Zuko muttered into your ear, pulling away from your lips for a second. You shivered at his words before leaning your forehead against his. 

“In case it wasn't clear, Prince Pouty, I like you too,” you teased, giving him a shy smile. Zuko snorted at the nickname before kissing you gently, a stark contrast to the way the two of you were kissing only minutes earlier. 

“Toph! They’re kissing!”

Sokka’s head was poking through the cave entrance, looking at the two of you in shock. In the midst of your confessions, the Gaang had found the Fire Nation soldiers and defeated them, knowing that you couldn’t be too far away. Toph had been the one to find the cave, using her seismic sense, but Sokka had insisted he be the first one to enter. 

“Aw man,” Toph called out, pushing Sokka out of the way and forcing her way into the cave. “How many times did you lily livers kiss?”

You and Zuko exchanged surprised looks before looking at your two friends embarrassedly. You were still in his lap, the two of you ridiculously close to one another. Overall, you had been caught in a very compromising position. 

“U-Uh, I don’t know,” you stuttered, avoiding Toph’s blank gaze. Even though she couldn’t see you, you knew she was judging you.

“We didn’t exactly keep count,” Zuko drawled. You slapped his chest. “But if you want we can add a few more.”

“No!” Sokka and Toph yelled in unison. Sokka covered Toph’s eyes as Zuko pressed his lips to yours, catching you off guard.

“I’m blind!” Toph grumbled, causing Sokka to look at her sheepishly.

“Oh, right,” Sokka replied, removing his hand and carrying Toph so that her feet were off the ground. “That’s better.”

“Just tell us if you kissed more than two times,” Toph said, hanging limply from Sokka’s arms. 

“Oh we definitely did,” Zuko said, a smirk on his face as you squeaked in embarrassment. 

“Ha! You owe me five gold pieces,” Sokka yelled triumphantly, accidentally dropping Toph. The small girl landed on the ground, scowling deeply at both having been dropped and losing the bet.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Snoozles. If you need me I’ll be outside,” Toph grumbled, stalking out of the cave. You shared an awkward glance with Sokka, who had a large grin on his face as he stared at the two of you. 

“Uh, anything else you need?” you asked the Water Tribe boy.

“No,” he replied, the smile never leaving his face. “We’ll be waiting outside when you’re done. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Groaning, you dropped your head onto Zuko’s chest. Sokka let out a loud laugh as he left and Zuko simply rolled his eyes before looking down at you. Using his index and middle fingers, he tilted your chin up, bringing your face up so that he could look at you. A bright blush spread across your cheeks as you met Zuko’s golden eyes, the urge to look away growing stronger as his gaze dropped to your lips. 

“Now, where were we?”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​, @bottledcostcowater​, @butterflycore​, @coldlilheart​, @the-firebender-girl​, @ajediherowitchrunner​, @lammello​, @astroninaaa​, @samsmultifandomblogs​, @sadskater25, @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak​, @eternallyvenus​, @emberislandplayers​, @sunflowerazula​, @moonnei, @stilllivindue2spite​,

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #fire lord zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #atla zuko x reader #atla zuko #zuko imagine #prince zuko imagine #fire lord zuko imagine #atla zuko imagine #avatar #avatar: tla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar x reader #atla x reader #aang #katara #sokka #toph #toph beifong

[the-iceni-bitch]

Somethin’ Warm to Come To

Pairing: Billy Lee x dark!Fem Reader

Words: ~2.9k

Summary: There’s a new girl in the big house, but you’re Billy’s favorite.

Warnings: DARK!!!!!!!! Explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, forced voyeurism), violence (implied character death, mentions of killing and butchering animals for food, f to f violence), definite psychological torment, smoking, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: I am definitely going to hell guys, this proves it. Please avoid if you’re one of my soft sweet babies! Thanks so much @sweeterthanthis for giving this a once over to make sure I didn’t go too overboard! Also, I know it’s pretty heavily implied in the movie that Billy’s partners are underage but we’re gonna say everyone here is over eighteen.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!

You hummed softly to yourself as you worked on slicing the vegetables for the stew you were making for dinner.

Heather and Autumn were helping you in the kitchen, the two younger women working on butchering the chicken you had slaughtered earlier as you gave them instructions over your shoulder. Billy was still out, taking care of some problem one of the families on the commune was having, but he’d promised he was going to be back before the sun set.

It was your night, one of the two Billy set aside every week when it was just the two of you, the other women sent to their side cabin while you got lost in each other. You didn’t mind sharing him the rest of the time, but you were his first and his best, the queen of his little kingdom.

You turned to look when the screen door opened and sighed in exasperation when Rose came flowing in, eating an apple that she must have picked from the tree in the yard.

“Hello Rose.” You said, putting the cut up onions in the pot before moving on to the carrots. “Where have you been all morning?”

“Just walking around.” She said with a shrug, perching on a stool as she watched the three of you work. “It’s gorgeous outside.”

“I could’ve sworn I asked you to take care of the laundry.” You murmured, shooting your eyes towards the basket you had set by the back door.

She rolled her eyes at you before tossing the apple core in the bin and standing up to stretch lazily. You could feel the other two women tensing up behind you at her attitude, sensing your anger that the youngest woman seemed oblivious to.

Rose has only been with you a few months, and you were still a little pissed at Billy for bringing her into your delicate little ecosystem. She was lazy and stubborn, but so pretty and Billy just had to have her. At least she was good in bed, a little selfish though.

You’d almost slapped her last week when she refused to help keep the sheriff off Billy’s back when he was over for dinner. You had been buttering that man up for years with Billy’s sweet young wives and she almost blew the whole fucking thing until Autumn stepped up. She’d had the audacity to suggest you take care of him yourself and Billy had to hold you back to keep you from doing something stupid.

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” She said with a light laugh as she slapped the counter rhythmically. “Where’s Billy?”

“Taking care of something with the Hendersons.” You told her, chewing the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling at her. “They’ve been having trouble with coyotes getting into their chickens.”

She just snorted as she sauntered into the kitchen, inspecting what you were doing with minimal interest.

“Fine.” She said, hopping up onto the counter next to where you were working. “I think I’m gonna join you guys for dinner tonight.”

You heard Heather let out a gasp behind you and felt her and Autumn go completely still as you continued slicing.

“That’s not up to you.” You seethed as you tossed the carrots into the pot.

“I think Billy will be fine with it.” She said with a wicked grin. “He’s always so happy to see me.”

“Not up to him either.” You growled, stabbing the knife into the cutting board with a vicious thrust as you grabbed a hand towel.

“What, you jealous?” She teased you, kicking her feet lazily. “Not my fault Billy’s getting sick of that dried up snatch.”

You felt a wave of calm wash over you and stared at her for a beat before grabbing the back of her head and slamming it into the corner of the wall.

“Get out.” You said flatly to the other two women who were giving you terrified looks. “Now.”

They scurried out the back door without a second glance as you stood over Rose, who was holding her face and whimpering as she rolled around on the floor. You cocked your head as she tried to crawl away, grabbing her hair and yanking her up as she yelped in pain.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me see that pretty face you’re so proud of.” You cooed, a mocking look of concern on your face as you bent to look into her eyes.

She sniffled as she pulled her hands away from her face slowly. You tutted once you got a look at her, blood streaming over her chin from her nose and mouth.

“Not so pretty any more.” You said with a grin as you straightened back up.

She yelped as you slammed her face into the counter twice more until she finally shut up, dropping her to sag to the floor as you moved back to finish the stew. You frowned when you noticed the spray of blood across the front of your white linen dress but eventually shrugged before setting back to work, ignoring the crimson pool that was spreading across the tiles.

Billy walked through the door two hours later and grinned when he smelled the food. As much as he enjoyed having one of the pretty young things share your bed, he really loved having you all to himself.

“Hey sunflower.” He hummed when he walked into the dining room, wrapping himself around you and pressing his lips to yours as he wrapped his hands in your hair.

“Hey stardust.” You murmured happily against his lips. “I made your favorite.”

“You’re my favorite.” He cooed, rubbing his nose against yours before turning to take in the meal you’d set out. “Oh, what happened?”

Rose was tied to a chair at the opposite end of the table, her face purple and swollen as she cried around her gag. Billy noticed the blood splattered across your dress as you moved to slice the bread and he sank into his chair.

“Rose here wanted to join us this evening.” You said nonchalantly as you served him. “So I decided to make an exception to our alone time.”

“Shit, she mouth off to you baby?” He asked, his palm running over your thigh absentmindedly as he pulled you closer.

“Just a little.” You muttered as you sank into his lap.

“Well fuck, honey.” He purred as you tore off a piece of bread and brought it to his lips. “That’s no good.”

“I know. I fucking told you this would happen.” You hummed as he took a bite of the bread, his hands slowly dragging your skirt up to your hip.

“Yeah, I’m sorry sunflower.” He murmured before nuzzling into your neck. “Dunno why I didn’t listen to you.”

“Mmm, I forgive you stardust.” You moaned as he slid a hand between your thighs. “You really should eat your food though before it gets cold.”

“I’m only hungry for one thing, and it’s always nice and warm for me.”

You laughed lightly as he tossed you onto the table and wrenched your skirt up until it was gathered around your waist. He tossed your knees over his shoulders and started to plant soft kisses on the insides of your thighs.

He burying his face at the apex of your thighs and you moaned as he mouthed hungrily at your sex. You buried your fingers in his chestnut locks as his tongue swirled through your folds and he growled into your core.

“Fuck, Billy.” You whined when he wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed himself even further into you, shaking his head softly to bury his face even deeper in your folds.

You felt him grinning as your pussy clenched against his face, your arousal soaking his mustache and chin as he lapped at your clit. He held your legs open as he thrust his tongue inside you and you let out a wail.

“You taste like heaven, sunflower.” He purred as he gazed up at you through his lashes. “You wanna fuck my face while that little bitch watches?”

“Mm, yes. You know me so well, stardust.” You said, biting your lip and grinning as you peeked over your shoulder at Rose, your smile growing even wider when you saw tears leaking down her cheeks.

You started to grind against Billy’s face as he curled his tongue inside you against that spot that made your toes curl. His fingers pressed into your hips so hard they were going to leave bruises as you fought against his grip to clench your thighs around his head.

“Shit, right there.” You sobbed, your legs quivering with strain as your body went rigid before your release flowed into his mouth.

He groaned as you came around his tongue, your pussy fluttering wildly as you planted your free hand behind you to keep you from collapsing back against the table. You slowly relaxed as you came down, tugging Billy’s hair softly to tilt his head back and grin at him as you watched him run his tongue over his lips slowly.

He stood up between your legs and cupped your cheek as he gazed at you before bending to press his lips to yours softly. You sighed with content as you tasted yourself on his lips, tracing the curve of his mouth with your tongue and sliding his loose shirt down his shoulders.

“Hey! Open your fucking eyes!” He hissed over your shoulder as he snapped his fingers at Rose who had screwed her eyes closed and was trying to turn away. “You wanted to be here, so now you're gonna watch.”

He stepped away from you and prowled towards the opposite end of the table, ignoring the muted pleading that was coming from behind Rose’s gag. You swayed your legs lazily as he started to drag her towards where you were waiting. He slammed the front of the chair down dangerously before slotting himself between your thighs again.

You purred as he slowly undid the buttons on the front of your dress and bent to brush his lips over your collarbone. His hands moved to your waist after he slipped the sleeves down your arms, drawing you closer to him as his mouth traced the column of your throat.

Your hands moved between the two of you as he moved his face to run over your breasts, your fingers working quickly to undo his jeans.

“Fuck, flower.” He groaned as you drew his cock out and wrapped your hand around him, swirling your thumb through the precum that had collected at his tip. “Wanna feel that perfect cunt of yours around me.”

“Yeah? I want to feel that pretty cock of yours split me open, baby.” You teased as you lined him up, reaching out to slap Rose across the face when you saw her closing her eyes again. “Eyes open, bitch.”

He slid into you slowly with a low groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he watched you closely. You mewled softly as you felt him fill you up, your pussy fluttering around him once his hips met yours and you adjusted to his girth.

Your eyes rolled up into your skull as he drew out of you halfway before thrusting forward again, his hips slapping on your thighs as he drove into you roughly. He ducked his head and sucked a bruise below your ear as his arms wrapped around you, on hand trailing up your back to wind through your hair.

The soft sobbing sounds from Rose really spurred the two of you on, Billy’s thrusts becoming more vicious as he let out a feral growl against your throat. You dragged your nails over his back as his tip nudged against your cervix, making your vision white out for a second before you let out a shriek and came around him.

“Fuck, god you feel so fucking good.” He groaned as he followed you when you collapsed back against the table, pressing his chest to yours as he fucked you through it. “Like you were fucking made for my cock.”

“That’s cuz I was, stardust.” You cooed, wrapping your legs around his waist and arching your back to meet his thrusts. “We were made for each other, all this other pussy is just icing on the damn cake.”

He grinned before kissing you deeply, hooking his hands under your knees and drawing them up to loop over his shoulders as he sank into you even deeper. You whined as he ground against you, rubbing his pubic bone into your clit and making your breath hitch in your chest.

“So damn beautiful.” He murmured as he watched you fall apart. “Can’t believe this stupid cunt thought she could take your place.”

You bit your lip and your entire body spasmed with the force of your orgasm, your release squirting across Billy’s stomach. He buried his face in your neck and let out a low growl at the feel of your pussy clenching around him.

Your legs unwound from around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out of you, giving you a teasing grin before he flipped you over and slammed back into you. He brushed your hair out of his way and bent to press his lips to the back of your neck as he leaned his chest on your back, sinking his weight on top of you as his cock dragged against your g-spot.

“You close, flower?” He cooed, nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want this bitch to watch me fill you up.”

You turned your head to the side and beamed at Rose as Billy’s cock twitched inside you and his tongue traced the curve of your ear.

“Yeah, I’m real close baby.” You purred, arching your back to meet his hips as he buried his face in your hair.

He wrapped one hand underneath you, snaking his arm between your breasts before pressing his fingers to your throat and giving a gentle squeeze. His other hand brushed your hair from your face softly and cupped your jaw, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip until you sucked it into your mouth with a moan.

You gasped when he suddenly straightened, pulling you up with him as he knelt with one knee on the table and the other foot planted on the floor.

“Do it honey.” He groaned as you nipped at the pad of his thumb. “Wanna feel that pretty pussy cream all over my cock. Show this stupid cow what she thought she could steal from you.”

He sank his teeth into your shoulder and you let out a low moan as your whole body tried to arch off the table. You wrapped your hands around his forearms to anchor yourself as stars exploded behind your eyes, your voice leaving you in a hoarse cry as a wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

You felt Billy swelling inside you, his thrusts starting to become erratic as his own end loomed. He stilled his hips suddenly and groaned in your ear before he was filling you with warmth, his spend coating your satiny walls in thick ropes that started to leak down the insides of your thighs.

“Oh, that’s my good girl.” He cooed, holding you close to him as he relaxed, leaning back on his heel as his lips traced the curve of your neck. “My perfect little sunflower. Love you so much, honey.”

“Mmm, love you too, Billy.” You hummed, sinking back against him as his fingers ran over your skin. “What d’you want me to do with this cunt?”

He pressed his lips against your cheek in a warm kiss before untangling himself from you slowly. You groaned when his softening cock slid out of you, a soft wet sound accompanying it as his seed ran down your thigh in a slow trickle.

Billy stood up and walked towards Rose slowly, frowning as he watched her sob around her gag and fight her bonds. He gripped her chin harshly and turned her face towards him, looking closely at the bruises you’d left all over her pretty face.

“Disgusting.” He spat, releasing his grip on her chin and letting her head sag against her chest as he wiped his cock off on her skirt. “Should’ve been happy with what she had. Get rid of her baby.”

You beamed at him as he prowled to the kitchen to grab a cigarette, ignoring the renewed screaming that was coming from Rose’s mouth. You followed after him, grabbing your carving knife off the counter before heading back to the dining room.

“The west garden bed needs some new fertilizer anyway.” You said, hefting the blade and cocking your head at Rose as she knocked the chair over in an attempt to flee.

“Whatever you want baby.” He murmured, taking a long drag when the screaming finally stopped. “I’ll let you help me pick the next one.”

——————————————————————————

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[morganaspendragonss]

request for you -> no. 65 💗💜💙

holly's august extravaganza day 20: can't smile without you

thank you! this is a follow-up to my previous fic a hole where your memory goes

65) “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely fucking breathe because they’re gone and it’s my fault. And god knows what they’re doing to them right now and I’m just sitting here doing nothing!” (from this list)

ao3 | 1.6k | angst with a happy ending, supportive firefam, kidnapping, mentioned amputation

before.

Carlos would be lying to himself if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before. He has always worried for TK’s safety, and the knowledge that a serial killer is on the loose in Austin has sent that worry skyrocketing. Especially because he’s the lead detective on the case; he’s spent hours poring over horrific crime scenes, examining all the facts until they’re burned into his brain.

Admittedly, the killers seem to be mostly indiscriminate in who they take, meaning the chances of it being TK are slim.

But there’s still a chance.

Carlos doesn’t like the thought of TK going out alone anymore, but he tries to push down his protective instincts to normal levels, for TK’s sake. TK thinks he’s being ridiculous—but then, TK only knows what the news has said about the case. Carlos has refused to talk about it at home, mostly because he’s not supposed to, but also because he doesn’t want to scare his husband.

He won’t admit it, but Carlos is scared enough for the both of them.

But as the case wears on and no new leads appear, things change. The fear… It doesn’t get lesser, or disappear, but it becomes something he’s used to; something, really, he’s been used to ever since they first began dating all those years ago. And the thing about being a detective—the person who investigates and solves the crimes—is that it’s easy to believe that these are things that happen to other people.

Carlos knows he’s not invincible. But there’s something about his job that has him marking out his home as a safe bubble, where the horrors he sees on the daily can’t enter.

Later, when he thinks back on it all, he won’t remember the moment he let himself get so lax. What he will remember, all too clearly, is the moment he lost everything.

“Babe, I’m going out!” TK shouts, his voice reaching Carlos where he’s washing up in the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon; don’t wait up.”

Carlos smiles, but doesn’t turn around, knowing TK will probably be halfway out the door by now anyway. “Have a good run,” he says instead. Seconds later, he hears the door shut and lock, and he carries on with his night. His shift had been long, so he goes to bed pretty quickly, certain in the knowledge that, when he wakes up, TK will be by his side again, as always.

He wakes up at two am to a cold bed, and Carlos’s world crumbles.

during.

Seventy-three days after TK’s disappearance, Carlos is sitting in the firehouse kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and wondering what, exactly, he’s doing here. He should be at work, going over the case, doing everything he can to find TK; not here, the one place he hasn’t set foot in since that awful day.

“Carlos,” Paul said, surprise colouring his voice. He narrowed his eyes, clearly noting the grief hanging heavy around Carlos, and a brief fear flickered across his expression. “Is everything okay?”

Carlos swallowed, unable to meet Paul’s eyes. “I, uh. Is Owen around?”

“Yeah, he’s in his office. You can head on up if you want.”

He nodded and took a step forward, before being suddenly hit by a realisation. “Actually, Paul?” he asked. “Could you gather everyone? You all deserve to hear this from me, but I don’t think I have the strength to say it twice.”

Paul’s eyes widened, the fear returning in full force. Carlos knew he must have joined the dots by now—TK not showing up for work, Carlos appearing, looking, probably, wrecked… There was only one conclusion to be drawn.

Even so, Carlos didn’t think any of them would have imagined something this bad, and the looks on their faces when they found out broke him all over again.

He sighs and stares down into his coffee, swirling the cooling dregs around the mug. He doesn’t want to be here; even now, seventy-three days afterwards, part of him still thinks he’s going to look up and see him walking around the corner. The feeling is even worse at home, but Carlos only really goes there to sleep and, occasionally, eat. TK’s nightstand is still occupied by the book he was reading, his shoes lie abandoned by the front door, his shampoo going untouched next to Carlos’s own.

The memories there threaten to suffocate him, so he chooses to let them gather dust.

The firehouse is quiet, and there’s an itch in Carlos’s bones telling him to get up and get going. He grits his teeth and tries to force himself to stay put, for his friends’ sake if nothing else, but it’s an impossible task, and he ends up shoving himself out of the chair. For once, no-one is around to spot him, so he turns, fully intent on sneaking out, when his eyes catch on the 126’s memorial wall.

It’s the same as it has been for years, Tim’s photo right alongside those of the old 126. A thought enters Carlos’s mind, unbidden, and it sticks in his head, keeping his gaze locked on the wall.

How long until TK ends up there too?

Carlos’s breath trembles, his hands bunching into fists at his side. The rest of the firehouse fades into background noise until all Carlos can see is the wall of photos and the memory of TK’s voice on the night he left.

Judd appears from seemingly nowhere, Carlos jumping when his hands land on his shoulders. “Sit.”

“No,” Carlos protests, shoving at Judd. “No, let me go.”

But Judd just folds his arms and refuses to budge, looking down at Carlos with a mixture of sympathy and determination in his eyes. “Look, Carlos, I have no idea what you’re going through,” he says, “but you’re running yourself into the ground and you’re going to burn out. TK—”

“Don’t.” Carlos grits his teeth, glaring at Judd. “Don’t say it. You all—You all keep saying the same shit, but I’m pretty sure the only thing TK wants right now is to be away from wherever they’re keeping him. And it’s my job to do that for him! Judd, it is literally my job to find these people and I just keep failing and I should be out there; I should be looking for him, so just—just let me go!”

“Carlos, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” There’s a sob building in Carlos’s chest, the ever-present ache growing until it eclipses anything else he has inside him. “I can’t calm down, and you know what else? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely fucking breathe because he’s gone and it’s my fault. And god knows what they’re doing to him right now and I’m just sitting here doing nothing! I’m sitting here, drinking coffee, when he’s—he’s—”

The words stick in his throat and Carlos gives in to the tears, letting the emotion overwhelm him. His legs give out and he slumps back down in the chair by the kitchen island, saved from sliding to the floor by Judd, who cradles Carlos’s head against his chest. Judd’s uniform is probably getting soaked, but he makes no complaint, simply holding Carlos as he cries.

“I know,” he shushes, rubbing a large hand in circles on Carlos’s back. “I know.”

He doesn’t, but Carlos takes solace in it anyway.

after.

Carlos chews on his lip, anxiously watching as TK is settled in his wheelchair. It’s been a month since TK came home from the hospital, and the first time he’s going out without Carlos.

“Ready, Strand?” Judd asks. TK nods, and time feels like it slows down as Judd grips onto the chair’s handles, muscles tensing to push.

“Wait!” He seizes a blanket from the couch—TK’s favourite—and rushes over, kneeling down in front of his husband. “You’ll get cold.”

It’s true; after all the weight he lost, TK feels the cold so much more these days. He knows that TK, and probably some of the crew, thinks he’s being over-protective, but Carlos is terrified of him getting sick. Of losing him, for good this time. So he tucks the blanket around TK’s leg, the other one’s absence still glaring after all this time, giving more attention to the task than it warrants.

He’s stopped by a hand slipping into his, and he looks up to meet TK’s eyes, brilliant green shining with understanding.

“Carlos,” he murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. “It’s okay. Y—You don’t—have to—w—w—” TK frowns, his face scrunching up in frustration as his tongue refuses to cooperate, and Carlos reaches out to caress his face.

“I know,” he says softly. “I’ll see you later, okay? Love you.”

Every instinct Carlos possesses protests as he watches TK disappear out the door once more, and he takes an involuntary step forward. But Paul and Grace, both of whom insisted on keeping him company, place a hand on each of his shoulders, gently but firmly guiding him towards the couch.

“I—I don’t…”

“He’ll be fine, Carlos,” Grace says, sitting next to him. “Let us take care of you, now.”

Paul walks over with a bowl of something steaming, practically forcing it into his hands. “I’m gonna tell you right now, I’ll be real offended if you don’t eat that, Reyes. I didn’t spend hours slaving over it for you to turn your nose up because you got used to all that gourmet shit they serve in the hospital.”

Carlos laughs weakly, taking the proffered fork. Between the hospital and TK’s strict diet while he gets used to food again, he hasn’t had a proper meal in a while; he didn’t think he had the appetite for one, but the spicy aroma wafting from the bowl sets his stomach growling.

They eat, and they talk, and it seems like normality might be in reach once more.

An hour later, TK comes home.

And Carlos finally starts to feel safe again.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #judd ryder #paul strickland #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #anonymous #userkimmy #userjillian #userbones #tuserjenny #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag

[heyyyharry]

"We’re in your parents’ house!”

(a blurb from the Flatmate series)

…in which Harry and Y/N fuck while her whole family is downstairs 🤷🏻‍♀️

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: Absolute filth.

It’s been so long since the last time I posted flatmate smut on Tumblr 😂 

.

.

.

“Y/N, we’re in your parents’ house!”

“I know,” she panted. He doubted she was telling the truth because her cheeks were flushed and her skin burning hot. He could hear her family’s loud conversations from downstairs as she pushed him against the door and reached for his belt. His cock reacted instantly to her action and he caught her wrists before he lost all common sense. “Baby—”

“It’s okay,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him roughly. “The game will keep them busy. They won’t look for us.”

Harry should be concerned because this wasn’t like Y/N at all. As she started kissing his neck, he rested his head back against the door and wondered if it was something her mother had put into the soup and why Y/N was the only one being horny all of a sudden.

He was pulled back to reality when she stuck her hand into his jeans and cupped his erection over his briefs. Fuck it, he told himself, lifted her with her legs around his waist and carried her to her bed. He lay her on her back, and she propped herself up on her elbows, watching him pulling off his jeans and spreading her thighs for him to get between her legs. He wasted no time to kiss her again, hiking up her skirt and squeezing her soft thighs. Fuck, she was gorgeous, and he was so turned on that all the fear and anxiety he’d had earlier when talking to her dad had magically vanished.

His breath caught when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and nudged the head against her wet panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, kissing her hungrily and moaning into her mouth as she started stroking him. “Fuck, baby, why are you so horny?”

“You looked so sexy... w-when you talked to my family about work,” she whispered, her head thrown back as he left wet open-mouthed kisses down her throat.

Harry chuckled and reached between them to feel her there. She’d already soaked her panties, and he bet he could just push it aside and slide his cock right in without foreplay.

“If you’d told me sooner,” he rasped into her neck, “that seeing me talk to your dad made you this wet, I would’ve been less scared.

Y/N’s giggle turned into a trembling moan when he worked a finger into her. “You’re the sexiest when you say smart things,” she gasped out, fingers knotted in his hair.

Her hand moved faster on his cock to match the pace of his fingers in her cunt, and he pinched his eyes shut, fighting the urge to cum right then by thinking of twenty ways her dad would kill him if they got caught. The fact that thinking about his death couldn’t even stop him from wanting to cum inside her was very concerning, but this wasn’t the time to get his priorities straight.

“I cannot believe you’re making me fuck you with your parents right downstairs,” he hissed into her flushed skin, adding another finger that made her back arch and her fingers knot in his curls. He drew back a bit to watch her squirm. The straps of her dress had fallen off her shoulders and one of her tits was out, and he literally had to yank her hand off his cock so he wouldn’t cum. “Want you to come first,” he said before she could protest, thrusting his fingers deeper.

She chewed on her swollen lip, her face screwed up as she arched her back. “Harry, I’m gonna—”

He nodded, took a nipple into his mouth and tongued it before he did the same to the other one. “Go ahead baby,” he hissed. “Come for me.” Then buried his face into her chest. “Fuck, I love you.”

“Ah! Harry!”

He nearly came as he watched her roll her hips against his hand. “That’s right,” he exhaled sharply, fucking her through it. “Good girl.” He sucked his fingers clean and pulled off her underwear then his own as he said, “Turn around, baby.”

Y/N looked dazed after her second orgasm but she was happy to comply, flipping onto her stomach and pushing her arse to him. He gave her cheek a squeeze and a light spank that made her jolt.

“Are you on the pills? I haven’t got a con–”

“Yes, you can cum inside me.”

His eyes grew wide at her bold words, but he wasted no time to question. Who knew how long was left for the football match her family was watching.

Sliding his hand along her spine down to her neck, he pressed her into the mattress and eased his cock into her. She let out a loud moan, her mouth hanging open as her cunt enveloped him. “Fuck! How are you still so tight? Squeezing me like that...”

Slowly, he pushed all the way in and they both gasped at the same time.

“Ah! I’m coming,” Y/N cried out and tightened around him as she gripped the sheet and trembled to his surprise. Harry was panting hard. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to think of unsexy thoughts so he wouldn’t have to watch Y/N’s orgasm face, which got him off every fucking time.

“You okay?” he asked after a few seconds, and she responded with a breathless nod. He chuckled lightly, brushing her hair out of the side of her face. “How did you come? I haven’t even moved.”

“I know.” She shot him a lazy smile over her shoulder. “I just...felt so f-full.”

Harry growled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me. I swear to God. Do you need another moment?”

“No, I’m good. Please move.”

He held her hip with one hand, the other still wrapped around her neck as he pressed her down and began to thrust. She was sobbing into the sheets and he was biting his lip so they wouldn’t be too loud. He wondered if they’d locked the door. They had, right? He knew he hadn’t but Y/N must have done it and checked it twice; she was never careless.

The anxiety died fast as Y/N pushed back against him. He cursed under his breath and snapped his hips against her bum, eyes flicking between where they connected and her fucked-out face. She pushed down her straps and the dress so both her tits were out and started playing with them herself. At this point, he didn’t think she was in her right mind to have done it consciously, and it turned him on so fucking much.

A cry burst out of her as he hit the spot. He dug his fingers into her soft hip and fucked her deeper and harder, hitting that spot again and again. She chewed on her lip, her eyes shut and her other hand slipping under her. It took him a second to realize she was touching herself as she knew he was close and wanted to finish with him.

“Yes, baby. So good,” he said through gritted teeth, took her by the hips as his hips slapped against her arse. “Am I fucking you hard enough?”

“Yes, yes, Harry–Ah!” She arched her back and clenched around him, and he knew she was coming again. He gave her one deep stroke before pulling her up and pressing her back against him. One of his hands was on her breast, the other arm wrapped around her stomach as he pumped her on his cock and fucked into her at the same time. Just as he shot his cum into her, the door flew open and they whipped their head around when her sister Maisie screamed and pulled the door shut with a wall-shaking slam.

Then, a voice from downstairs, probably her Dad, or her brother, asked Maisie what was wrong. Maisie replied, “I-I saw a cockroach!”

Cock-roach. Harry tried not to laugh at it. How could he find that funny after his girlfriend’s sister had seen him coming inside her? Jesus, he really needed to get his priorities straight.

It was Y/N’s bright laughter that dragged Harry out of his thoughts. She’d lay back down onto her stomach, his dick still inside her and the vibration that she sent to it as she laughed was too much. He pulled out to his dismay and collapsed beside her. She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes gleaming in the semi-darkness.

“Should we apologise to Maisie or at least thank her for not calling for your dad and brother to beat my arse?”

“You’re so dramatic,” she giggled, scooting closer to kiss him sweetly on the mouth. “If they wanna hurt you, they’ll have to step over my dead body.”

“Aww, I love you,” he sighed. “But seriously. Your sister just saw me balls deep inside you, babe.”

“That’ll traumatise her for sure,” she said, this time, blushing, and he knew that the horniness had faded and she was back to being his cute and shy girlfriend. He liked both sides of her, though, wouldn’t want to change a thing.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go down there before my dad comes up here.”

He groaned as she sat up and fixed her dress. “Do we really have to take the walk of shame now? What if your dad could hear us and is now waiting for me to come down so he can kill me?

She cupped the side of his face, her mouth curled slightly. “At least you got to nut one last time before you die.”

#harry styles #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles dirty imagines #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #flatmate!harry #flatmate series #flatmate blurbs

[rafecameron]

evasion

Summary: You don’t understand why your best friend is suddenly avoiding you like the plague, but once he confesses his reasons you have a decision to make.

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: alcohol, a little bit of angst

*GIF is mine*

Topper had never been as tough as he’d made out to be. His interior was soft and his heart was easily broken that’s why after Sarah he vowed to himself he’d never fall in love again. So when he found himself falling for his best friend he unconsciously started distancing himself. Making excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out, letting texts go unanswered for days. He hadn’t meant to do it, but his mind was so scared of going through the pain again it decided the best option was to block everything out. That meant you’d suddenly gone from seeing him everyday, to clinging onto his arm as you walked and falling into each other due to laughter to not hearing from him for days on end. To watching him make an excuse and leave whenever you would show up.

At first you didn’t think much of it. Maybe he really did have a family dinner to go to or plans with Kelce he had forgotten about until now. But after a couple of weeks you started to believe that he wasn’t just forgetting important events and that he was in fact avoiding you. And you couldn’t figure out why. Had you done something or said something to make him upset with you? You’d never fallen out with Topper before, sharing your fair few tiffs with Rafe and Kelce over the years, Topper was always the one that stuck around no matter what. So why was he now avoiding you like you were some deadly disease.

You make your way through Rafes house and out to his garden where you knew your friends would be. Kelce was swimming laps in the pool, Rafe was talking animatedly into his phone and Topper was lounging on a sun bed watching them both. He looked over and caught your eyes, offering what seemed to be a half hearted smile in your direction.

You stroll over to him, determined to talk to him and get things back to normal. You missed your best friend. But as you get closer you notice him glance down at his watch and sit up, worry seeping through your body at his actions.

“Hey, Top.” You offer him a small wave and a nervous smile.

“Uh hey,” he replies as he stands up from his sun bed, “Sorry I actually have to go. Promised my mum I’d help with some things around the house.”

“Oh…” you watch him fumble around grabbing his things before he disappears into the house without a second glance. You knew he was lying, he never helped around the house and his mother would never ask him to. You avert your eyes over to Kelce who had stopped his swimming and was resting his arms against the side of the pool watching the interaction. The boy simply shrugs when your eyes meet his and he pushes back off the wall again.

You sigh and plop down onto the bed Topper had just vacated. You already wanted to slink off back home, Toppers quick departure and cold greeting enough to ruin any hopes you had of having fun today.

You’d asked Rafe and Kelce that day if they had noticed anything different, Rafe said no, though you were sure this was more because he couldn’t be bothered to get involved. But Kelce had noticed his friends' quick disappearances and feeble excuses for the past few weeks to why he couldn’t attend events he’d usually be all over. But he had no ideas as to why so you continued to be left in the dark.

After that day you couldn’t help but fall into a sulk. A frown prominent on your face every second you were around your friends. You didn’t mean to take it out on them but you couldn’t help it. Being around them made you think of Topper and thinking of your friend ignoring you caused your heart to drop and shatter.

It had been a little over a month since you’d even seen Topper now and you were moping more than ever.

“For gods sake y/n, would it kill you to smile a little?” Rafe groans as you sink into his couch with a face like thunder.

You shoot the boy a glare, “It might actually.” You huff.

“I can’t take this anymore, either you say something to him or I fucking will.” Rafe states matching your glare.

“You don’t think I’ve tried? He’s ignoring me Rafe, I can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to know me.” You sigh out.

So Rafe decides to intervene, coming up with a simple plan to get you and Topper alone together so you could talk through whatever the hell was going on with him. He pushes you up the stairs and into the study, his phone perched between his ear and shoulder as Topper talks on the other end of it.

“He’s on his way, stay here.” Rafe instructs you, pulling the door halfway closed as he disappears back downstairs.

So you wait, pacing up and down the study, your lower lip being assaulted by your teeth. You’d never been nervous to see Topper before but now your hands were shaking and you couldn’t stop your heart beating out of your chest. It felt like you had been stuck in this study fretting over the inevitable meeting for the whole day but you knew it couldn’t have been more than half an hour.

Once you heard two voices getting closer you stopped pacing, turning to face the door. Soon enough Topper was stumbling through the door before it was slammed shut, the sound of the key turning in the lock. Topper hadn’t even noticed you, instead he banged on the door calling for Rafe to stop messing around and let him out. You cleared your throat and Topper's hand stopped on its way to the door again, he slowly turned and when his eyes met yours the colour seemed to drain from his face at the sight of you and your heart sank. You just couldn’t understand why he hated you so much all of a sudden.

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly.

“Rafe never said you’d be here.” Topper replies, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I know. You wouldn’t have come if you’d known.” You state, you let out a sigh and turn to lean back against the desk, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as you looked down.

Topper stayed quiet, he didn’t even try to pretend he hadn’t been avoiding you which only served to hurt you more. You chewed on your lower lip, you’d rehearsed a whole speech in your head but now he was here you had forgotten all of your words.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You finally ask, lifting your eyes from your feet to look over at him again but his eyes aren’t on you, “Did I do something wrong?”

His head snaps round at that, eyes swimming with what looked like anger, “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Topper tells you adamantly, “Don’t think that.”

“Well what else am I supposed to think?” You ask your voice raising a little, “You haven’t spoken to me in over a month! How am I not supposed to think I’ve done something wrong?”

Topper let’s out a groan and runs his fingers through his hair, the frown constantly prominent on his face, “Look, it’s my problem, okay? You didn’t do anything.” He almost tells you, he almost spills out his feelings for you with the hope that you feel the same but before he has the chance to, you speak again and he knows he can’t tell you.

“You’re my best friend Topper! Please don’t shut me out.” You beg him.

Topper's frown is replaced by a look of sadness which he quickly recovers himself from, he shakes his head and turns to bang on the door again.

“Rafe, I know you’re listening asshole, let me out.” He kicks at the door and you lean back against the desk, willing the tears not to fall.

The door unlocks, an annoyed looking Rafe appearing behind it, “My dad will fucking kill me if you damage this door.” He frowns pushing past Topper to look down at where the boy had been kicking.

Topper takes that as his opportunity to slip out of the room and disappear down the hallway. You let the tears slip past your eyes now he’s gone, ignoring Rafe mumbling to himself about the door while you let yourself break down.

Once Rafe realises you’re crying he hurries over, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders a concerned look plastered across his face.

“He’ll come around, y/n.” He tries to reassure you but you just shake your head. You didn’t think he’d come round, you’d lost him forever and you had no idea why.

“He won’t, Rafe.” You sob out, “He hates me and he won’t even tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can fix it!”

You sob into Rafes chest, your body shaking with your cries as Rafe holds you silently. Rafe had never seen you upset before, he wasn’t very good with sympathy so whenever you were upset you would go to Topper. So Rafe held you awkwardly, trying his best to soothe you and tell you everything would be okay, but no matter what he said you couldn’t stop crying. No matter how many times he repeated that it would be okay and things would work out you just couldn’t believe him.

The next couple of weeks you spent mostly by yourself. You tried your best to get over your heart break by doing things to take your mind off Topper. You baked cookies - which were awful but still, you had tried - and you took care of yourself. You took long baths, read novels, plastered on face masks and hair masks, painted your nails. And it all made you feel good and a little less heart broken.

So when Rafe called inviting you to a party you didn’t even think twice about agreeing. Topper only entering your thoughts after you had hung up the phone. It was a waste of time wondering if he would be in attendance, of course he would be. But as confused and upset as you still were at him, you felt you could face him without breaking down when he inevitably ignores you.

You dressed up in your best dress, spending more time on your hair and make up than you usually would, wanting to take pride in your appearance. You hoped feeling confident in your exterior would make you feel stronger on the inside.

You arrived to Rafes house two hours after the party had started, your usual time of arrival. There was nothing worse than being at the start of the party while everyone was still awkward and sober. You entered the house, heading straight towards the kitchen to get a drink, you also knew that was the most likely place you’d find Rafe and Kelce.

You were right of course, Rafe was leant back against the kitchen island, Topper and Kelce in front of him chugging beers while the group around them cheered them on.

“Not missing the fun am I?” You ask as you appear beside Rafe.

“I was beginning to forget what you looked like.” Rafe joked pulling you into a one armed hug before quickly mixing you a too strong drink.

“Hi.” You smile over to the two boys who had finished downing their drinks. Kelce returns your greeting, Topper offering you the slightest of smiles before turning and placing his empty bottle on the counter beside you.

Topper ignoring you still hurt like hell but you were determined not to let him see it. If he was okay with not talking to you anymore you were going to pretend you were perfectly fine without him as well.

Drunk you however was not so confident she was okay without Topper. After four beers, two overly strong drinks from Rafe and three shots instigated by Kelce you were more than a little drunk and you were on a warpath to find your blonde friend - or ex-friend, you weren’t entirely sure which fitted best.

“You!” You slur out when you find him on the landing upstairs, you push against his chest causing yourself to stumble much more than the boy in front of you, “Why do you hate me?”

Topper frowns, grabbing at your hands and trying to steady you. He looks around the hallway nervously as you shout at him, quickly pulling you into Rafes room for privacy.

“Y/N, I think you should try and sleep.” Topper instructs you trying to lead you towards your friend's bed.

You shake your head and push him off of you, “No! I refuse to leave without answers. Why do you hate me? What did I do to you? Why can’t you just tell me instead of avoiding me, you’re killing me here Top!” You feel tears prick at your eyes and if you were sober you might have been able to subside them but now they were streaming down your face.

Topper sighs, he wants nothing more than to reach out and pull you into a hug. To comfort you, to hold you and promise none of this was your fault and that he loved you more than anything. But wanting to do that was what caused this problem in the first place.

You could see the hesitation on his face and you cross your arms, stomping your foot slightly like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Tell me Topper. I deserve to know.” You demand and Topper let’s out another sigh because he knows you’re right. He’s been distant and rude and you deserve more than that, so with his heart beating at a ridiculously fast pace he tells you the truth.

“You didn’t do anything,” he begins, quickly shutting you up with a wave of his hand when you start to talk over him. “You didn’t do anything.” He repeats himself, “I meant what I said when I said it was my problem. I was scared so I distanced myself from you.”

“Why were you scared?” You ask quietly when Toppers pause was too long for your liking.

“Because I didn’t want my heart to break again.” Topper lets out a slightly shaky breath, he suddenly seemed a lot more sober than you were, “I didn’t mean to, but I fell for you y/n. I fell hard and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t want to be rejected. I wanted the feelings to go away and I thought if I avoided you I might get over it.”

You find it hard to process what he’s saying in your drunken state, your brows furrowed as you tilt your head studying him.

“Topper I-“ you cut yourself off with another frown, your head shaking slightly, “I don’t know-“

“It’s fine.” Topper cuts in, his stance suddenly nervous, “I get it, you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have said anything… I - you should get some sleep.” He quickly turns and hurries from the room without a second glance.

You sit on the edge of the bed and lay back, eyes staring up at the ceiling as you try your best to work out what Topper had told you. He fell for you, but what is that supposed to mean? Was he in love with you? Were you in love with him? You had no idea how you felt, Toppers words were swirling round in your head and making you feel sick. You felt dizzy and confused and were thankful that the alcohol worked quickly to knock you out.

The next morning you wake with covers wrapped around you. Your head hurt but not as much as you imagined it would. You wished you had woken up blissfully unaware of last nights events, either from the excessive alcohol consumption of just from a fuzzy hangover. But you awoke remembering the events perfectly and the sick feeling quickly returned.

You turn onto your side, eyes peering down at your friend on the floor who was eyeing you with a smirk, “Morning, you look a mess.”

“Thanks Rafe.” You roll your eyes and pull the covers up to your chin, “One, never let me drink that much again and two, never leave me unattended when you inevitably fail number one.”

Rafe laughs and rolls onto his side leaning up on his elbow, “I refuse to take responsibility for your messiness, Kelce got the shots out.” He defends himself.

You let out a groan and drop your head down onto his pillows, “Something worse than the shots happened.” You admit quietly.

“Something worse than Kelce pouring double whiskey shots and forcing everyone to drink them? Must be pretty bad.” Rafe comments.

You bury your face into the pillows, “I found Topper,” you mumble out, “I confronted him and he told me he loved me and I didn’t fucking say anything.”

You weren’t sure if Rafe would understand your muffled confession but he did, you lift your head when he doesn’t reply only to find him staring up at you.

“Explains why he’s been avoiding you.” He says simply with a shrug.

You shoot him an incredulous look, “Is that all you can say?” You ask, voice a little high pitched in disbelief

“What?” Rafe asks defensively, “Do you want me to say you’re an idiot for not saying it back? Because you are.”

Your brows furry and you sit up fully, your head spinning from the sudden movement, “But I don’t know if I feel the same way.” You admit, “He’s my best friend…”

Rafe sighs and copies your movements, sitting up on his makeshift bed on the floor, “Do you want me to listen or do you want advice?” He asks.

You consider for a moment, it would be nice to sound out your thoughts with someone, but you knew Rafe well and despite the awful decisions he makes for himself he is good at giving advice. Rafe notices things other people don’t, he’s good at watching people and reading thoughts and he’d hate to hear you say it but sometimes he was like the mother of the group. Always sorting everyone’s problems while ignoring his own, so you ask for his advice.

“You’re in love with him.” He says simply.

You look down at him, waiting a beat for him to continue but shoot him a glare when he doesn’t, “Is that it? Your great wisdom?” You scoff.

Rafe rolls his eyes, bringing his knees up slightly and wrapping his arms around them, “You’ve been in love with him for a while. I can tell.”

“Rafe you aren’t helping.” You let out a groan.

“Think about it y/n! I’m your best friend too, right?” You nod so he continues, “You wouldn’t act the same if I started avoiding you. You wouldn’t sulk and cry, you’d come up to me and call me all the names under the sun and probably hit me. But you cried, because it hurt more because it’s Topper. You aren’t happy when he’s not around, Topper makes you happy. He always has. You love him, you're just too scared to see it, like he has been.”

You study Rafe for a moment considering what he’s said, was he right? Have you loved Topper all this time and just been too stubborn or blind (or likely both) to notice? You think back to your times with Topper, a slight smile on your face at the memories. Topper was the one you always sort out for cuddles. He was the one who’s hoodies you stole when it got cold, who’s house you slept over at the most. Topper was your rock and you had been lost without him. He made you comfortable, made you feel safe and secure. The swell of your heart when he’s around has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been your best friend for so long but has everything to do with the fact that you’re in love with him. Crazily, stupidly in love with him, and it took Rafe of all people to make you see it.

You slowly nod your head, “You’re right, Rafe. I’m in love with Topper.” You declare, a smile forming on your lips as you spoke.

“I’m always right you should know this by now.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Now go tell him and leave me to sleep off this headache.” He lays back down and rolls over while you jump out of the bed.

You don’t care that you’re in your dress from the night before. You don’t care that your hair resembles a bird's nest and your make up is probably a mess. You don’t care about any of it, all you care about is telling Topper how you feel, and hoping your silence the night before hadn’t ruined everything.

You walk to Toppers, your feet sore from wearing your heels the night before so you walk barefoot, your shoes clutched in your hand as you stride determinedly towards the Thornton residence. You don’t think twice about knocking on the door until after your fourth pound, lip between your teeth as you imagine his mother’s face seeing you stood a mess on her doorstep. Prim and proper Mrs Thornton would not be too pleased with the sight, but luckily for you it was Topper who answered the door. Sleep is still evident in his eyes and messy hair when he appears in front of you.

“Y/N?” He asks rubbing sleep from his eyes, “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” you shake your head, “Can i come in? I really need to talk to you.”

Topper sighs, leaning tiredly against his front door, “If this is about last night please just forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” You protest.

“Please y/n. I’m too hungover for this,” he groans, you open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, “Okay you want to talk about it? I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry I fell for you and I’m sorry I avoided you and I’m sorry I brought it up last night and ruined everything even more,” he rambles out, speaking a little louder each time you open your mouth to speak, “I’m an idiot, and you don’t feel the same, it’s fine.”

“Topper-“

“I mean it’s not fine, far from fine actually. But I’ll get over it. I just hope you don’t hate me forever because of it.”

“Top-“

“Can you just forget I ever said anything? I’ll stop avoiding you and I’ll try and just forget everything.”

“Topper!” You shout finally getting him to stop his ramblings and look at you wide eyed.

You stand in silence for a couple of seconds, you trying to sort out in your head what you should say, Topper looking at you desperately. But words fail you so instead you rush forward, grabbing Toppers face in your hands and pressing your lips against his. Topper's shock is soon replaced by confusion and then relief as he kisses you back, melting into your touch.

Kissing Topper felt like no matter what everything would be okay. It was like coming home after a weekend trip and feeling at home again. The sound of the morning chirping of birds disappeared as you got lost in him. You were the only two people in the world, right now in this moment nothing else mattered except from you and Topper.

“Y/N,” Topper begins when you finally pull away but you shush him.

“I love you. I think I always have. And I think we’re both idiots for taking so long to realise this.” You whisper, lips still hovering in front of his.

Topper's heart soars and he’s sure he’s never felt so full of love before in his life. It was like his body was on fire with the feeling and he never wanted to feel anything else again.

He leans down, kissing you again quickly before picking you up. You laugh softly and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Let’s go sleep these hangovers off, then you can tell me again how much you love me.” Topper smirks, kicking the front door shut behind him before carrying you up to his room.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You smile kissing over his face as he lays you down on his bed, “Never stop speaking to me for that long again, my heart can’t take it.”

Topper leans down, soft lips against your cheek and jaw, “I will never leave your side again.” He promises, lips finally finding yours in a slow lingering kiss before he finally falls onto the bed beside you and pulls you against his chest.

“I love you.” He mumbles against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. His soft breathing lulling you into a peaceful sleep, full of happy pictures of your further with Topper forever by your side.

Tags: @rudyypankow​ @topperthornton​ @rafej-cambanks​ @joshy-obx​

#topper thornton fic #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #my writing

[toga-time]

Comrades (What we do)

by @toga-time

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia / My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: ANGSTY. Mention of injury. Mention of (past) abuse. Some HPSC bashing. Self-worth issues. Hawks is sad.

Characters: Hawks (keigo Takami), Shigaraki Tomura (Shimura Tenko), Dabi (Touya Todoroki), Toga Himiko, Kurogiri, Twice (Jin Bubaigawara), Spinner (Shuichi Iguchi), The LoV.

Additional Tags: Found family. Hawks being part of the LoV. Hawks getting hurt. Hawks is sad. Shigaraki is mad. The LoV is concerned. Hurt/Comfort. I’m not too sure how to tag this tbh.

Thank you @skeletonwithakeyboard and @dreamingspark​ for beta-reading (as well as coming up with a title) <3

Now, on to the story!

---

Hawks’ wings are small.

They’re small, fluffed up and a bit sensitive to touch. The usual whenever they’ve been roughed up and he’s lost a slightly larger amount of feathers. However, unlike all the other times they have now stayed this way for over 3 weeks. Getting injured in fights is something he’s been used to for a long time and his wings has taken heavy damage before, sure, but this time it was worse. The guy was clearly focusing all his attention on Hawks’s back when attacking, intent on hurting him a great deal - probably wanting to destroy the very part of him that made him into Hawks.

He is familiar with these kinds of goals from the enemy and has learnt to counter several attempts at taking him down and yet, one single slip-up had him sprawled on the ground in agony; his back burning in pain and his muscles twitching, wings flapping desperately as though trying to get away, to move him to safety.

‘Pathetic.’

He could hear the word so clearly in his head back then. It was almost like his handlers were there in the room with him, as though this was just another test to see what kind of strength he held. Clearly, he had failed them. Had made them feel disappointed in him.

It had taken him minutes to get out of his own head - precious time wasted, which could have ended up with him being killed if not for his comrades taking notice of his immobile state and covered for him. When Hawks had finally gotten a hold of himself, he was met with the sight of Toga standing guard a few feet away, knives clasped tightly in both of her hands, eyes watching intently as the guys kept the threat occupied.  Twice sat crouched down beside him, holding onto his arms and carefully ruffling his hair, trying to calm his eratic breathing.

Somehow, their opponent got away.

It was a frustrating fact, having all of them on edge afterward. It didn’t help that Hawks was unable to move without feeling like the skin on his back would split open, worrying the others and having them check up on him every hour of the day until the burning sensation was gone. Until he seemed fine again. The problem is, he isn’t fine. It’s been so long and his wings are not recovering. It’s been over 3 weeks, yet they are still so fricking small. And the base of them ache something terrible even if the rest of his body feels normal.

After a whole month has passed the thought occurs to him that they might not heal properly this time at all and it scares him. It scares him to no end. The others notice his distress, he knows, but Hawks tries anyways to hide it behind a smile and his usual jokes.

It will be okay, he tells himself. He is going to be okay.

He has to.

_

Two months has almost passed and Hawks’s wings are now covering at least parts of his back. They have a lot of growth to do still, but they’re catching up, albeit slowly. It’s okay, He can be patient. In another month or so they’ll be back to normal for sure. He has no doubt. No doubt. He’ll be okay. Just keep on repeating it.  Just keep smiling.

It's when they're moving the furniture into their new base that it happens. Spinner is balancing four boxes in his arms and Hawks, out of reflex, tries to send out his feathers to help, but..., nothing. He tries again. Then again. A third time, stretching his wings out a bit to push the feathers into action, stress and fear rising from inside of him with each failed attempt. It’s not working. For a moment his mind goes blank before being filled by a panic so intense it makes him want to scream. He can feel them inside of his head still, even if just barely, but he can't conect to them the same way he did before. They won't respond to him, his wings are simply twitching on his back with the feathers stuck tightly to them. When nothing but a dull vibration goes up his spine, Hawks finally breaks down.

His wings..- His powers, they are gone.

The others are there in an instant, howering near him, reaching out to hold him as he cries and Hawks lets himself stumble forward into Dabi’s arms, pressing his face into the fire wielder’s shoulder when he reaches him. It's pure agony. His body is damaged- the wings that's been with him since he was a child- a baby.. They're damaged. He can't use them. They’re not responding to him anymore. Everything that has made him himself, everything he is, it’s..- lost. He’s lost. He has no idea what to do. So he cries, in the middle of the tight circle his friends have made around him, leaning his body's weight against Dabi and wails into the fabric of his coat while the dark haired man simply holds him close, rubbing carefully at the lower part of Hawks’ back.

‘Pathetic.’

The word is so loud it’s practically muting all other sounds surrounding him.

‘Useless.’

The voice is so cold, making him choke on the sobs  escaping his lips.

He really is a failure. Clutching the slim, yet strong shoulders, Hawks drags Dabi down with him as his legs gives out. His throat is sore and his eyes sting, the tears refusing to cease their falling. He feels so weak, curled up like this in the others’ lap, but he also wants nothing more than to stay this way.

Just let him stay.

Please.

_

Off to the side, Shigaraki watches the bird in silence with an unreadable look on his face, nails scratching at his neck. Each broken sob and sniff makes him dig into the skin a little deeper. When the crying turns into soft coughing and gasps for air, the young leader swiftly turns and heads for the door, not saying a single word to any of them. Toga looks at his retreating back in worry, chewing on her bottom lip and only letting go when Kurogiri gives her a small pat on her head. He holds her gaze for a few seconds, enough for her to give him a small grin, before following their boss into the hallway of the building.

Shigaraki is seething. It’s visible in the way his fingers tenses and he’s striding forward with strong steps, feet hitting the ground hard as he walks. The sound is echoeing off of the walls, mixing in with his puffs of breath, mouth forcing air past his lips and into his lungs. Kurogiri knows all the signs. Has learnt through the years of serving him.  Right now, Shigaraki is in a dangerous mood. 

"Find their location,” Shigaraki hisses, his words biting and venomous. “And gather the others once Hawks has calmed down. Have someone stay with him. We have things to do." "Tomura-"

The young man stops abruptly and glares at Kurogiri over his shoulder, cutting him off. His eyes are glowing a scorching red and his hands tremble at his sides as though he can barely contain himself from turning something into dust in his palms. It renders the bartender completely speechless. "We will make them suffer, Kurogiri,” Shigaraki continues and there’s a finality to his voice. The order clear as day. He resumes his strides, voice growing distant as he walks. “It's what we do for the sake of our comrades."

#my writing #fanfic #fic #bnha fic #mha fic #angst #angsty #bnha hawks #keigo takami #bnha shigaraki #bnha dabi #bnha toga #bnha twice #bnha spinner #bnha kurogiri #bnha compress #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #touya todoroki #toga himiko #jin bubaigawara #shuichi iguchi #atsuhiro sako #league of villains

[jaskierswolf]

Okay, here is my prompt: Lambert and Dandelion, that’s it 😂 a scene where they meet, somehow have to interact, maybe work together for something? Can be sexy or not, as you like!! I just love your Lambert and your Dandelion and want to see them together 💜💜💜

So this sort of grew out of control. Under 1k they say. *angry writer noises* I have no self control when it comes to Book!Dandelion.

Have some chaotic Lambert and Dandelion on a mission to rescue Geralt! Also on my AO3 _________________

Dandelion stuck his tongue out as he wrapped his hair around the hot metal rod in his hands. He was very careful to keep hold of the specially enchanted wooden handle so he wouldn’t burn his hands but even still it was a difficult process, one that his beloved witcher just wouldn’t understand. He frowned as he watched his hair intently making sure that it didn’t start to smoke. He really hated it when it started to smoke, it made him start to panic. His hair was his pride and joy.

Fuck it, he really needed to ask Yennefer for some kind of enchantment or potion to help in curl his hair without all this nonsense.

He sighed dramatically as he pulled the tong from his hair and the golden lock bounced free in a perfect curl. He beamed and mentally patted himself on the back. He had not spent hours practicing his technique to have subpar curls. He was Master Dandelion, renowned troubadour. He simply could not look anything less than his best. He tilted his head as he placed the tongs back over the fire. One curl down, many to go. It was a hard life being beautiful.

He grabbed his notebook and quill whilst he waited for the tongs to heat back up. Geralt was out on a hunt with Lambert so he would have twice the witcher to compose about when they finally returned. He needed to started working on his rhymes for bruxa.

They couldn’t have made it easier for him could they…

He sighed again, narrowly avoiding wiping black ink over his cheek, an unfortunate occupational risk, but one he would take over monsters any day of the month. He hummed to himself by the light of the candle as he switched between hair curling and composing until the door was thrown open by a very frantic witcher.

“Dandelion!” Lambert yelled as he barrelled into the room.

Dandelion jumped and almost scorched his ear with the tongs. “Bloody hell, Lambert!” He snapped at the witcher. “Didn’t Vesemir ever teach you to knock?”

Lambert ignored him, as always. The bloody witchers never paid him any attention unless they were demanding that he perform for them like some blasted dancing monkey. “It’s Geralt.”

Dandelion’s dropped the tongs and they clattered to the floor. He was lost for words momentarily as he tried to understand what Lambert was implying. “Geralt?”

“Yes, poet.” Lambert snapped. “Now come on! Before the fuckers kill him!”

Dandelion’s eyes went wide. “Kill him!?” He cried. “What the blazes do you mean, kill him?! I thought you were hunting a bruxa not a higher vampire!”

Lambert rolled his eyes and snarled. “Move, Dandelion!”

Dandelion was shoved roughly out of the door. He barely had time to grab his lilac hat and he was forced to leave his precious lute in his room. He whined miserably as Lambert slammed the door and yanked him down the stairs and out the tavern. He wouldn’t have minded but how was he supposed help Geralt if Lambert couldn’t? He was only a poet!

“Would you please explain to me what’s going on?” He demanded as he was dragged towards the alderman’s house. He tore his wrist from Lambert’s grasp and glared fiercely down at the witcher. “I am not a child, you prick!” He snapped, using Geralt’s favourite nickname for the grumpy witcher. “I can walk on my own.”

“The fucker double-crossed us. His guards managed to get the drop on Geralt but they weren’t ready for two of us.” Lambert muttered as he stalked ahead.

Dandelion gripped onto his hat and trotted to keep up with Lambert’s marching. “They won’t really kill him, will they?” He asked.

Lambert scoffed. “You know better than that, Dandelion. Fucking humans. Monsters, the lot of them. I don’t know why we bother to protect them.”

Dandelion raised an eyebrow at the sullen witcher. “We aren’t all bad.” He muttered. “So what’s the plan, my dear?”

“They want money.”

“That’s hardly a plan.” Dandelion scoffed. “Even my plans are better than that.”

Lambert growled and threw his hands in the air. “You, Viscount Julian, have money. They need money. Plan.”

Dandelion’s heart sank as he realised Lambert’s mistake. “Ah.”

He gripped onto Lambert’s arm and pulled him to a stop. Like Geralt, Lambert was more than capable of ignoring Dandelion’s attempts to move him but, like Geralt, the other witchers of Kaer Morhen had become used to Dandelion’s weaker strength. Lambert crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared up at him. The height difference between them never failed to make Dandelion laugh, well usually, in that moment he was more focussed on finding his partner. They had stopped just outside of the alderman’s home and Lambert was clearly losing his patience as his foot began to tap on the dirt road.

“Ah. What do you mean ‘ah’? And none of your rhymes, poet. I don’t have time for riddles.”

Dandelion sighed and pulled nervously at one of his freshly made curls. “I don’t exactly have access to the funds we need.”

“What?”

“Well I’ve not been back to Lettenhove for years!” He pouted and put his hands on his hips. “I’m afraid I’ve rather been cut off.”

Lambert yelled wordlessly and ran a hand through his hair. “Do they know?” He asked, pointing at the door.

“Well, no.” Dandelion admitted as he chewed on his bottom lip, a terrible habit but one that brought him great comfort.

“Can you act the part?”

Dandelion nodded. “Of course I can.” He snapped with indignation. “One doesn’t escape one’s birth.” He muttered and then added more quietly. “No matter how much one might try.”

“Then get in there and fucking sort it out.” Lambert growled as he opened the door with far more strength than necessary and Dandelion was thrown inside.

He stumbled and grabbed hold of his hat as he was pushed through the doorway. He turned to glare at Lambert but the door was slammed in his face. He sighed and spun round to face the occupants of the room with his most dazzling smile. “Gentlemen!” He gave a low bow as he surreptitiously looked around for any sign of his silver haired witcher. He barely concealed a frown when he released that Geralt was nowhere to be seen. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“You’re that poet.” One of the burly brutish man pointed out.

“Ah, yes. You’ve heard of me?” Dandelion preened a little before remembering why he was there. “But I’ve not come here as the troubadour you know and love.”

“You’re shit.” A second thug said.

Dandelion gaped and put his hands on his hips. “I beg your pardon!”

“I think he’s pretty good.” The first one argued.

“Thank you!”

The second one shook his head. “Nah. He’s shit.”

“You sir!” He pointed at the man. “Are rude!”

“Hey!” Dandelion was suddenly thrown against the wall much to his surprise. The brute moved deceptively quickly and Dandelion hadn’t had the time to duck out of the way. “You don’t get to say that.”

“My mistake, a misunderstanding. I’m sure.” He stammered as he hat fell from his head. “Lambert!” He called. “Get your prickly arse in here. I know you can hear me!”

The door flung open once more to reveal Lambert, in all his grumpy glory. Dandelion had never been so pleased to see him. Lambert had his sword in one hand, he spun it with a flick of his wrist as he rolled his eyes. “You had one job, poet.”

“Just do something!” Dandelion whined.

“Right!” Lambert strolled into the centre of the room, pointing his sword at each of the men, one by one. They looked at the very least confused by the turn of events. Dandelion saw one of them reach for his own blade but Lambert was quicker. He’d bounded across the room in a blur and flicked the tip of his sword against the man’s throat, lifting his chin with the blade. “Let the poet go.”

Dandelion could have swooned. He’d never taken Lambert for the heroic sort before. If Geralt didn’t survive this then perhaps he would attempt to woo a different witcher instead. Dandelion was dropped to the floor and he cursed as he knees cracked against the hard stone.

“Where’s Geralt?” Lambert growled. “I really don’t want to kill you. It’s messy and unnecessary. So you give us Geralt, and the coin you owe us and we’ll get out of here.”

“You couldn’t have just done this in the first place.” Dandelion scoffed as he scrambled to his feet and brushed off his clothes. There was a tear in one of the knees and he groaned. He loved this outfit. It was still fairly new and he’d taken great care not to wear it when following Geralt on any of his hunts.

“Viscount Julian de Lettenhove here was going to pay your ransom, but now you’ll be lucky to escape with your lives.” Lambert snarled at the alderman. “Geralt. Now!”

The alderman stammered and gave the order to release Geralt. Dandelion held his breath until he saw his witcher stride into the room. He was carrying his swords in one hand, both sheathed and in their leather holder, and his hair was loose and matted. Dandelion  beamed and ran at Geralt. Geralt smirked but caught him in his arms and lifted him from the floor.

“Geralt!” He buried his face in Geralt’s neck. “Lambert said they were going to kill you.”

Geralt chuckled and lowered him to the floor, brushing his curls from off his face. “I’m fine, Dandelion. Did they hurt you?”

He shook his head. “Only my pride.”

“Oi! Lovebirds. Can you not do that now?” Lambert groaned. “Let’s get out of here. I’m fucking starving!”

Dandelion laughed and kissed Geralt’s cheek before linking their fingers together. “Come on then, my dear. Time to go.”

“Time to go.” Geralt agreed as he brushed his lips against Dandelion’s temple. On the way to the door Geralt leant down to swipe Dandelion’s hat from the floor. Geralt placed it carefully on top of Dandelion’s head with a fond smile. “That’s better.”

Dandelion laughed and leant into Geralt’s side. “Thank you, my darling.” _____________

Tag list: @abluescarfonwaston @artistsfuneral @slythnerd @moonysourenza @victorieschild @hailhailsatan

#the witcher #gerlion #geraskier #lambert #witcher lambert #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #geralt x dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing #elliestormfound

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch37: Fourteen Million, Six Hundred And Five Part 1- Wakanda Forever.

Intro: Thor, Rocker and Groot arrive on Nidevallir and the god quickly realises something is wrong. Meanwhile, on Titan, Tony is trying desperately to rally the rest of the Guardians into some sort of organised unit, whilst in Wakanda it isn’t the organisation that the rest of the Avengers is having issues with…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chaptres too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! @angrybirdcr​ once again, beautiful editing!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 36 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Oh how Thor missed his hammer! How had it all gone so terribly wrong? He’d left Earth and his friends three years ago to go hunting those wretched stones and had failed, miserably. Now his Father was dead, his brother was dead, Heimdel was dead, half his people were dead. His home planet was gone, he only had one eye, and if he didn’t stop Thanos then his friends on Earth weren’t going to fare much better than the ones on Asgard had.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, his left knee jiggling a little bit with nervous anticipation as his mind flickered to Little Stark and the Captain. He wondered how they’d been getting on, how the few years post their marriage had been for them, whether there were any Little Little Starks or Little Caps roaming around…

“So, dead brother, huh?” Thor looked up to see the rabbit was stood a few feet away, pressing buttons on a screen as he spoke. “Yeah that can be annoying.”

“Well, he’s been dead before.”  Thor huffed. "But this time, I think it really might be true.”

“And you said that your sister and your dad…”

“Both dead." 

"You guys still got a mom, though?” The Rabbit pressed.

“Killed by a dark elf.” Thor replied, monotonously.

“Best friend?”

“Stabbed through the heart.”

“And you sure you’re up for this particular murder mission?” Rocket asked, frowning slightly.

“Absolutely!” Thor forced a smile, as he looked at the animal “Rage and vengeance, anger, loss, regret. They’re all tremendous motivators. They really clear the mind. So I’m err, good to go.” He nodded firmly, making a fist.

"Yeah, but this is Thanos we’re talking about he’s the toughest there is.”

“Well, he’s never fought me.” Thor deadpanned.

“Yeah, he has.” Rocket shrugged, and Thor took a deep breath.

“Well, he’s never fought me twice. And I’ll be getting a new hammer, don’t forget.”

“Well, it’d better be some hammer.”

There was a pause before Thor took a breath.

“You know, I’m fifteen hundred years old,” he began, looking at nothing in particular as he pondered over things. "I’ve killed twice as many enemies and every enemy I have faced would have rather killed me, but none succeeded. I am only still alive because fate wants me to be.” At that point he paused and couldn’t help but smile at a conversation he had had with the Captain about fate bringing him and Little Stark together. The Captain didn’t believe in fate, but he did. "Thanos is just the latest in a long line of bastards, and he’ll be the latest to feel my vengeance.” Thor nodded firmly as he concluded. “Fate wills it so." 

"Mhm.” Rocket hummed hesitating, but he knew he had to ask, “And what if you’re wrong?”

“Well if I’m wrong, what else could I lose?” Thor sniffed, and wiped at the tear that had escaped from his eye before he headed to the front of the pod to take a seat.

“Well, if fate does want you to kill that crap-sack, you’re gonna need more than one stupid eyeball.” Rocket held out his paw as he headed to the seat in front of Thor.

“What’s this?” Thor frowned, eyeing the object that the rabbit had given him.

“What’s it look like? Some jerk lost a bet with me in Contraxia.”

“He gave you his eye in return?” Thor frowned.

“No, he gave me a hundred credits. I snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye.”

“Thank you, sweet rabbit.” Thor smiled, pulling the patch off of his left eye to push the eyeball into the socket.

Rocket grimaced. “Ooh, errr, I would’ve washed that before, erm…” He swallowed and shook his head.  “The only way I could sneak it off Contraxia was up my-” He was cut off as an alarm started. “Hey we’re here.”

Thor frowned as he stood up to get a closer look out of the front of the pod. “I don’t think this thing works,” he slapped at the side of his head, his new eye spinning in the socket. “Everything seems dark.”

“That’s not the eye.” Rocket took a deep breath as they all stared out of the cockpit at the black sky and surrounding area in space.

They docked and slowly made their way off the pod and carefully made their walked across the dark terrain of the planet.

“I hope these dwarves are better at forging than they are at cleaning.” Rocket looked around at the junk that lay all over the place as Thor glanced over the deserted area, a puzzled expression on his face. “Hey, maybe they realized they live in a junk pile in the middle of space.”

"The forge hasn’t gone dark in centuries.” Thor shook his head. No, he could feel it. Something was very, very wrong.

“You said Thanos had a gauntlet, right?” Rocket stopped walking.

“Yes. Why?” Thor asked, searching the sky. For what he didn’t know.

“Did it look anything like that?”

Thor turned and looked over to where Rocket was pointing and his blood ran cold as he saw, sitting upon one of the stone tables, a mould for the gauntlet Thanos was wearing when he attacked his ship. Suddenly, realisation washed over him.

Thanos had been here. And that wasn’t good. At all. In fact it was about as far from good as anything could be. 

“I am Groot?”

“Go back to the pod.” Thor commanded before something struck him hard and he went flying through the air as Rocket and Groot scattered in the opposite direction.

Thor pushed himself up, and turning round, he saw the large mass coming towards him. Scrambling backwards he fell against something, hard and held his hands up, palms open in a placating manner.

“Eitri, wait!” He called loudly. “Stop! It’s me!”

"Thor?” The Dwarf paused, fist still raised as Thor gave a node. “Is that you?”

There was a pause and the Dwarf dropped his hand slightly. Thor swallowed and looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “What happened here?” The god asked.

“You were supposed to protect us!” the Dwarf cried, his voice cracking “Asgard was supposed to protect us!”

“Asgard is destroyed,” Thor choked out, getting to his feet. He pointed to the gauntlet on the table. “Eitri the glove, what did you do?”

Eitri let out a shuddering breath as he stumbling over to a wall and fell heavily upon it, sliding down to the floor. “Three hundred dwarves lived on this ring. I thought if I did what he asked, they’d be safe. I made what he wanted. A device capable of harnessing the power of the stones. And he killed everyone anyway. All except me. ‘Your life is yours,’ he said. 'But your hands…your hands are mine alone.’” With that the dwarf raised both his hands and Thor felt his eyes widen as he saw they were covered in in metal from the forge.

Thor paused, but then he shook his head. No, this wouldn’t do. He needed a new hammer. There had to be a way.

Even in the word can’t there’s the word can…

Little Stark’s voice echoed in his head, a line he had heard her say once to Barton just before the archer had thrown a pop tart at her head. Man he would kill for a pop tart right now. 

But no, she was right. He wasn’t giving up

“Eitri, this isn’t about your hands”. Thor shook his head. “Every weapon you’ve ever designed, every axe, hammer, sword it’s all inside your head. Now I know it feels like all hope is lost. Trust me, I know. But together, we can kill Thanos.”

***** Tony, Peter and Dr Strange had arrived on Titan. But they were greeted with a not-so-welcoming party. After a bit of a struggle, Tony had some blue faced dude on his back, repulsor raised whilst one of the other guys had Parker in a headlock, gun pointed at his head. As they faced off against each other, the man pointing the gun at Peter spoke.

“Alright, everybody, stay where you are, chill the eff out.” His helmet disappeared to reveal a dark haired man, his eyes darted across the three of them. “I’m gonna ask you this one time. Where’s Gamora?” What the fuck? 

Tony gave a groan of exasperation as he removed his helmet and looked at the man. “Yeah, I’ll do you one better. Who’s Gamora?” “I’ll do you one better!” The man under Tony’s foot spoke “Why is Gamora?”

”Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I’m gonna French-fry this little freak.” The man tightened his hand on Parker and Tony felt his temper snap.

“Let’s do it! You shoot my guy, I blast him. Let’s go!” He yelled, extended his nano-tech cannon and pointing it straight at the guys face.

“Do it, Quill! I can take it.” The man snarled at him. 

Jesus Christ it was like arguing with Rogers.

“No, he can’t take it!” The woman with the strange antennae insisted.

 “She’s right. You can't.” Dr Strange but in, completely deadpan, his tone bored.

“Oh yeah? You don’t wanna tell me where she is? That’s fine. I’ll kill all three of you and beat it out of Thanos myself.” The man they now knew to be Quill glanced at Parker. “Starting with you.”

 “Wait, what. Thanos?” Before Tony could say anything, Strange beat him to it. “Alright, let me ask you this one time, what master do you serve?”

”What master do I serve?” Quill looked at him, sarcasm dripping from his voice and body language. “What am I supposed to say, Jesus?”

“You’re from Earth?” Tony looked at him, suddenly cottoning on.

“I’m not from Earth. I’m from Missouri”

“Yeah, that’s on Earth, dip-shit.” Tony spat, with the tone of someone talking to a very, very stupid person, which in all fairness he appeared to be doing. “What are you hassling us for?”

“So, you’re not with Thanos?”  Parker spoke for the first time.

“WITH Thanos?!” Quill scoffed indignantly “No, I’m here to kill Thanos! He took my girl. Wait… who are you?”

“We’re the Avengers, man.” Parker remoeved his helmet and mask.

“Oh” Quill relaxed his hold a little.

“You’re the ones Thor told us about!” The bug looking woman exclaimed excitedly. 

“You know Thor?” Tony whipped round to face her, barely keeping the excitement out of his voice. They could use Point Break, man could they use him!

 “Yeah. Tall guy, not that good-looking,” Quill sniffed as Parker gave him an incredulous look, “needed saving.”

 Dr Strange paused before he asked the question Tony was dying to know the answer to. “Where is he now?”

“Took my pod, my food, my rucksack and went off to find a new hammer to kill Thanos with.” Quill shrugged as he released Parker completely. Dr Strange and Tony exchanged a crestfallen look. It didn’t appear like they were going to get any help from Thor where they were but maybe, just maybe, the rest of the Avengers would.

As they were now allies of sorts, the group all introduced themselves properly and Quill began to walk around the ground, holding out some kind of scanner, or spirit measure, Tony wasn’t sure which.

“What the heck happened to this planet? Its eight degrees off its axis.” He muttered “Gravitational pull is all over the place.”

In the background Mantis was jumping up and down, floating higher than she should have been able to, almost as if she was jumping on some trampoline. Tony watched her for a second before an idea formed in his mind.

“Yeah, we got one advantage. He’s coming to us. We’ll use it.” He said, firmly. “All right, I have a plan” he looked round at the group, “or at least the beginnings of one. It’s pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don’t wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet.”

At that Drax gave a loud yawn and Tony glared at him.

 “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I’m breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

“I stopped listening after you said we need a plan.” Drax shrugged honestly

“Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page.” Tony looked at Quill for help.

“See, not winging it, isn’t really what they do” Quill pulled a face, almost apologetically.

“Uh, what exactly is it that they do?” Parker asked.

“Kick names, take ass.” Mantis replied with all the ferocity of an eight week old kitten.

“Yeah, that’s right” Drax nodded as he settled into a stance, facing the remaining Avengers.

Right there Tony took it all back. This was nothing like trying to deal with Rogers.

Cap was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, but he was smart. He would listen and would get them to listen too. As Tony paused, for the first time in ages actually wishing Rogers was in front of him, an expression of deep hopelessness crossed his face before he spoke again “Alright, just get over here, please. Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?”

“Mr. Lord, Star-Lord is fine.” Quill motioned to Drax and Mantis to come and listen.

“We gotta coalesce.” Tony tried again in a softer voice. “ Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude…”

“Dude, don’t call us plucky. We don’t know what it means.” Quill shook his head, and internally Tony died a little more. Alright, we’re optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good.”

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe.” Drax interjected.

“What dance-off?” Tony frowned.

“It’s not a… it’s not… it’s nothing” Quill shook his head.

“Like in Footloose, the movie?” Parker interjected.

“Exactly like Footloose!” Quill looked at him excitedly “Is it still the greatest movie in history?

“It never was.” 

“Don’t encourage this, alright?” Tony rounded on the kid as Quill wore an expression that looked like the wind had been completely sucked out of his sails. “We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here”.

“Flash Gordon? By the way, that’s a compliment. Don’t forget, I’m half human” Quill pointed at Tony and Peter “So that fifty-percent of me that’s stupid? That’s a hundred-percent you.”

“Your math is blowing my mind.” Tony deadpanned.

“Excuse me, but…” Mantis spoke, and Tony looked at her, before his attention was taken by Strange and he frowned again. “Does your friend often do that?

The Wizard was sitting cross-legged, floating slightly above the ground, his hands poised in a mystic gesture with the Time Stone glowing brightly in the pendant round his neck. Green vapour like energy swirled around him, his cloak billowing behind, as if caught on a breeze. His head was jerking rapidly from side to side, the motion blurring, but almost like he was looking for something.

 Tony stepped towards him “Strange! We alright?”

 Suddenly, Strange snapped out of his trance and fell forward, letting out a cry. Tony gently caught him.

“You’re back. You’re alright”

 “Hey, what was that?” Parker asked.

 “I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange panted slightly as he caught his breath, looking at Tony, eyes wide, “to see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.

 “How many did you see?” Quill asked

 “Fourteen million, six hundred and five.”

 Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway. “How many did we win?

There was a pregnant pause as Dr Strange stared intently at him for a moment before he took a deep breath and looked Tony straight in the eyes. “One.”

*****

"How are we looking, Bruce?” Natasha spoke nto the coms device glancing back over her shoulder, prompting Katie to do the same, where she could see Bruce running behind the hovercrafts in the giant Hulk buster suit. He’d been unable to get the Hulk to come out, sheepishly explaining they were having issues, so Steve had suggested calmly as everyone else had almost had a meltdown, that this was the next best thing.

“Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Bruce responded sounding excited, “it’s so amazing! Man it’s like being the Hulk without actually…” He was cut off as he tripped over a piece of rock jutting out of the ground and crashed to the floor. Katie sighed and turned her attention back out across the vast Wakandan land.

“I’m ok. I’m ok!”

“Steve,” Katie swallowed, catching her husband’s attention. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, but she found she didn’t really know what she wanted to say. She was worried, scared, underprepared.

“I know.” Steve responded with a soft voice, instantly understanding her, he always did. He reached round to pull her to him, his left arm over her shoulder, trying to lend her some comfort as they continued their journey, the wind whipping their hair as they sped across the planes.

Eventually the hovercrafts began to slow before they came to a stop, the Wakandan warriors easily jumping off the side of the craft and falling into line. Steve hopped down, turning to Katie, both his hands on her waist as she jumped and he lifted her down, her feet landing on the dry, brown grass of the Serengeti that stretched for miles around them.

"Alright I’ve got two heat signatures breaking through the treeline.” Rhodey informed from high above. Instantly, Steve and Katie’s eyes flew upwards to watch him zooming overhead as T'Challa in his panther suit led them all to the centremost group where the Wakandans had started up a war chant.

“Thank you for standing with us.” The king spoke to a large man dressed in furs getting his own block ready for battle. The man said something in their language shaking T'Challa’s hand, before the king looked back at the barrier and the ships surrounding it and then turned to Steve who nodded. Katie took a deep breath and pressed the star on her bangle. The nano-particles spread up her arm, across her chest and down, encasing her completely in her suit.  

Steve’s eyebrow raised at the action. “So that’s new.” He quipped, a sideways smile spreading across his face and Katie shrugged.

“Nano-tech, apparently.” She engaged her helmet and began running her scanners. “I can’t get a lock on what’s in those ships though.”

“Well, let’s go find out.” Steve suggested gently, and along with Natasha and T’Challa, they headed to the edge of the dome. The tall, blue haired woman they had grappled with in Edinburgh was there with a huge beast they hadn’t seen before, one of the ones that had attacked New York. As they watched, she drew her sword across the force field which fizzled as she tested the strength, cocking her head to the side.

“Where’s your other friend?” Katie asked her and Steve almost rolled his eyes at her deliberate dig. The woman glared at her.

“You will pay for his life with yours. Thanos will have that stone.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Steve’s voice remained even, not a threat as such, simply a statement, as he raised his chin and looked her straight in the face.

T’Challa, however, was much more aggressive as he spoke and Katie looked at him, surprised by the normally mild mannered man’s fierce tone.

“You are in Wakanda now.” He glared at their foes. “Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood.”

“We have blood to spare.” The Woman smirked a little as she brandished her sword with a snarl. Behind her, the ships started raising their outer hulls.

Knowing that was about as much a conversation as they were getting, and as much of one as he wanted, Steve gestured with his head and the four of them made their way back. Steve made sure Katie and Natasha were in front of him, just in case, and every so often he threw a glance over his shoulder as the ships continued to open.

“They surrender?” Bucky asked as Steve took up his place at his best friend’s side, Katie falling in line to Steve’s right.

“Not exactly.” Steve huffed.

Katie glanced round Steve over to Bucky and nodded to the gun in his hand “Sure you can handle that, sweetheart?”

Steve let out a snort and his mouth curved into a grin as he recalled Bucky saying the same thing to her almost two years previously. Bucky gave a bark of a laugh and winked at Katie who raised an eyebrow, smirking. Then the three of them turned their attention back to the edge of the dome and, as they watched, a horde of what looked like mutated dogs rushed through the trees and foliage, heading straight for the barrier.

T'Challa began to chant with his army, repeating the war-cry loudly, as the blue horned woman thrust her sword down and the creatures rushed forward smashing themselves into the barrier without care.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered watching the creatures try to force themselves in, but every limb and body part that passed through the field ended up being cut off.

“Looks like we pissed her off.” Nat pointed out.

“Just a little.” Katie turned her head to look at her.

Steve remained still, observing, sizing up his opponent as ever, not flinching an inch even when he spotted that some of the creatures managed to get halfway through before they were cut in half. 

“They’re killing themselves.” Okoye breathed in shock as the creatures carried on.

The front line of the blocks of warriors quickly raised their shields when they noticed a small handful of the creatures had actually managed to get through, their badly burnt bodies cantering across the plains towards them. With a command from T'Challa the army began firing weapons at a few that drew near.

“Honey.” Steve turned to Katie, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want her to leave his side but they needed all the fire power they had. With a nod, and a quick squeeze of his hand, she engaged her helmet and launched herself into the air.

She drew up alongside Sam, who turned his head to grin at her as she sped alongside him. Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but put herself into a little twirl, allowing the euphoria at being up there again, fully suited after so long, to take her away for a moment. But then, it was down to business and the two of them began to work in tandem, dropping missiles and bombs at the stragglers.

“You see the teeth on those things?” Sam’s astonished voice said

“Alright, Kiddo, let’s go. Back up, Sammy,” Rhodey warned, as he flew along the edge of the dome, dropping more bombs on the creatures that were still partially getting through, “you’ll get your wings singed.”

Katie surged forward, taking the opposite side of the dome, engaging her shoulder cannons, blasting away the ones underneath, but then FRIDAY locked onto some of the creatures on either end of the swarm who had begun to make their way further from the main pile running along the outside of the barrier that circled the city.

“They’re spreading out!” Katie called in warning.

“Cap, if these things circle the perimeter and get in behind us,” Bruce echoed, “there’s nothing between them and Vision.”

“Then we better keep them in front of us.” Steve responded calmly, his gaze not once faltering as he simply watched the edge of the dome.

“How do we do that?” Okoye scoffed.

“We open the barrier,” T’Challa replied with resolve. Steve turned to look at him, taking a deep breath. “On my signal, open Northwest Section Seventeen.”

“Requesting confirmation my king…you said open the barrier?”

“On my signal.” He confirmed his instructions.

Steve lifted his arms, engaging the shields that T’Challa had given him, as Sam and Katie continued to circle high up, shooting a few more strays before they flew over the assembled troops, hovering and waiting for the command.  

T’Challa stepped forward before the armies, crossing his arms before his chest. “Wakanda forever!” he cried out.

“Wakanda forever!” was the answering shout from his people before they all took off running for the barrier.

“NOW!” T'Challa shouted into his communicator, and a small portion of the barrier opened, allowing the creatures to spill.

Steve ran with T’challa, the pair of them forging ahead of the running army at super speed as they sprinted in unison. Upon reaching a shallow stream, they both launched themselves up and over, propelling themselves at the creatures and from there the battle was on.

Katie was swooping, shooting, diving, taking out as many of the creatures as she could. The weapons upgrades Tony had made were amazing-she had the ability to turn her gauntlet into a sword of sorts, she had a shield, guns…you name it and FRIDAY was on hand to remind her exactly what she had and automatically use them when needed. All in all, it was the best Supernova suit her brother had ever developed, and she felt hopeful that his latest Iron Man one would be good enough to keep him safe wherever he was.

Steve, meanwhile, was hammering the pointed end of his shields into any of the creatures that came near enough. Bucky was gunning down those that came towards him, the Wakandan Warriors were using their spears and guns. The animals weren’t hard to take down, a decent hook or shot to the head did it, but they were persistent and there was so damned many of them…

“How much longer, Shuri?” T'Challa’s voice rang in Steve’s ear as he kicked another one of the animals straight in the mouth sending it flying.

“We’ve barely begun, brother!”

“You might want to pick up the pace!” T’Challa urged.

“Please do…” Steve found himself muttering as he pounded another of the creatures, feeling its scull crush beneath his knuckles.

*****

Thor had managed to get the Forge started again, using the pod and a large rope to pull the stuck rings into a spin, but then the iris had snapped, leaving nothing for it. He had to open it himself.

“All-fathers, give me strength.” He mumbled as he rolled his shoulders preparing to grab either side of the iris.

“You understand, boy?” Eitri warned. “You’re about to take the full force of a star. It’ll kill you.”

“Only if I die.” Thor cracked his neck as he took a deep breath. He had to survive, fate willed it, he was going to kill Thanos.  

”Yes. That’s what…killing you means.” Eitri frowned, utterly boggled at Thor’s words.

Thor pulled down on the two levers, bringing them towards him and the iris began to open. The stream of pure, stellar energy blasted past him and into the forge once more. Thor grit his teeth as the force of the full beam of the star burned through him, like nothing he had ever felt before.

“Hold it! Hold it, Thor!”

The metal ingots began to melt and Thor let out a yell as he felt his skin burning, until he could hold it no more and his grip slipped. He fell down into the forge, bouncing limply off a structure and landing on the floor, harshly as Rocket, who had followed in the pod, grimaced. The thud Thor’s body made as it landed was enough to make Groot look up from his game.

“Thor! Say something. Come on. Thor, you okay?” Rocket asked, looking at the god who appeared as far from okay as you could get.

Eitri was clumsily and urgently pulling the mould, which was still glowing red hot. onto the floor. He broke it loose from the frame, punching it with his metal fists to free the axe head.

“I think he’s dying!” Rocket stuttered, looking up urgently for help

“He needs the axe!” Eitri said, frantically “Where’s the handle? Tree, help me find the handle!”

As the two sides of the axe head lay glowing on the floor, Groot looked sadly at Thor, as Eitri was desperately searchin for the handle. Then, realising he could help, the tree scowled with determination and stood, extending his fingers towards the parts of the axe-head, growing them at extraordinary speed. As he twined them around the metal, he cried out at the burning pain but didn’t hesitate, slamming them together and locking them permanently into one structure by winding the growing vines around them. He raised it high above his head and, with a mighty cry, chopped his extended arm with the other hand to sever it.

Thor lay motionless, but then his fingers twitched, and the new weapon levitated in a crackle of lightning echoed by the sparks between the God’s fingers…

***** Chapter 37 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs  “Teenagers.”

Hello everyone, sorry for vanishing for a few days, but now I am back and ready to write.

I would ask for any prompts or ideas you guys have for stories. Sometimes I go through times where I can't think of any ideas, and this is one of those times. Your help is appreciated 

Somewhere between Mars and the asteroid belt

The Delta-5 passenger transport had fallen out of warp rather violently. Granted, with a delta class warp engine she could only make jumps inside the solar system, but at any range, coming out of a warp unexpectedly is violent.

The brightly painted yellow of the passenger ship was a streak in the darkness for a single moment before the emergency engines kicked in and pulled her to an abrupt halt. Inside, the ship was filled with startled screams and cries of pain, from the twenty person class of Martian students on a return trip from the asteroid belt.

Not all schools have the funding for their own spaceship, mind you, but as one of the most prestigious boarding schools on the solar system, there were some perks. However, violent whiplash wasn’t appearing to be one of those perks, and in the commotion, no one noticed as a lone student silently slipped back to their seat, handily concealing a shiny silver object in the pocket of her pants.

A distress signal followed the sudden loss of warp, and it was almost an hour that the students sat there before a call of awe came out from the back of the ship, and all the students piled together to see out the cramped side windows at the massive military warship bearing down on them from above. She was massive, almost the size of two football fields from end but reaching skyward. It’s rear engines glowed with blue power as it gently slid next to them despite it’s cumbersome bulk.

A single line of white lettering could just be seen at the spine of the ship reading

 U.N.S.S Harbinger.

***

Krill and Sunny accompanied Commander Vir from the bridge, arriving in the docking bay just as the small, yellow passenger transport was pulled in from the airlock and gently dropped onto the deck. Once secured, the doors were opened.

As Krill and Sunny stood next to the commander, they couldn’t help but notice his uncharacteristic lack of good humor.. In the light of the docking bay his arms were crossed, his mouth had been pulled into a deep brown, and his single eye was narrowed with distrust at the little yellow ship.

The doors were opened, and the students came spilling out. Krill didn’t have much experience with this sort of human…. Teenagers. Physically, they had smoother faces, and the males and appeared skinnier with reduced muscle tone, but other than that, he wasn’t likely to be able to tell the difference.

“Look at them.” The Commander muttered under his breath, “Little Vultures.” 

Krill and Sunny exchanged a confused look, and rill ventured a question, “I’m sorry Commander, but I…. don’t follow.”

The Commander’s expression remained dark, “Behold my inhuman friends, the worst kind of human, the bane of earth, the very incarnation of Evil itself. They have the magic ability to pinpoint whatever insecurities you have and used it in psychological warfare against you.”

Krill and Sunny turned to watch the humans. Some huddled together in small groups, others standing alone shoulders hunched looking down at the floor, and still others gazing around the docking bay in wonderous amazement 

“Sure…. Commander…… Evil.” Sunny said watching two of the humans hug each other, in a clear attempt to find comfort, “I’m shaking.”

The commander glowered at her, and then turned on his heel to march towards the line of humans.

Sunny chirped an approximation of a laugh, “Wait, hold on commander, my knees are weak, I can’t keep up.”

He continued to ignore her as he marched up to the line of students. Of course, with the clanking of his mechanical leg, they noticed him coming long before he made it, and as they strolled up, Krill couldn't help but notice as a group of them broke out into a fit of giggling as they watched the commander approach, a fact that was not lost one the man, not that the students would have been able to tell.

However, Sunny and Krill knew him well enough to see the stiffening of his back , and the slight redness at the base of his neck, “Alright, the lot of you, quiet down.” His voice was loud enough, and commanding enough to get partial attention, but even as they looked at him, there was still ore snickering, giggling, and students checking their personal devices. A couple of them continued to whisper quietly in the back of the group. Of course quietly actually meant one grade below a normal voice.

Sunny was able to pick out the word “eyepatch.” from the conversation.

The Commander’s frown grew deeper, and he turned to Sunny. 

She was happy to oblige the request, quickly clearing her throat, and then releasing a screeching battle cry that made the walls and floors rattle. 

That got their attention.

“About time you all shut the hell up.” He growled. Sunny shifted uncomfortably not entirely sure what had gotten into the commander. 

Krill watched the students, and quickly became aware that many of them only had one default setting, and that was the continuous rolling of their eyes, often accompanied with a deep sigh.

“Now, I find it very unfortunate that your ship broke down, mostly because now I have to babysit you, which I would rather not do. But here we are, and there are a few ground rules you need to follow.”

More eye rolling, which was not lost on the captain.

He turned his eye on one of the worst offenders, “Go on, roll your eyes again, see what happens.” The stare the commander gave him could have coagulated blood, and the student looked away as his classmates snickered, “That a bunch of disrespectful bullshit, and they don’t pay me to tolerate it. If you want to be a little shit while I explain life-saving rules to you, than I won’t feel bad when you wander somewhere you shouldn't and radiation causes all your skin to deglove. Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like….. am …. I ... clear?”

The group of them nodded rather slowly, and Krill noticed a couple of eyes twitch. A couple others looked back and forth between each other exchanging looks.

“I am Commander Vir, and this is the UNSS Harbinger, this is my weapons specialist Sunny, and my chief medical officer Krill. I am in charge of the ship, and while you are on board, you will follow my orders just like any member of my crew. I will not tolerate shenanigans, whining, complaining, arguing, and any other accompanying bullshit that you may be likely to bring aboard my ship.”

He turned his head in another wide circle making eye contact with each and every one of them. 

As his eyes passed over a group of the students, Krill watched them burst into another fit of giggling turning to look at each other.

The single eye snapped around to glower at them, “Something Funny!” He demanded 

The girl in question went bright red and then stammered out a, “N… no.”

More giggling erupted from somewhere in the back.

The commander didn’t look pleased. A rope that was already beginning to fray snapped, “Alright, that’s it, the brig,  the lot of you.” 

A gasp rose up from the students, and the teacher as she protested.

The commander turned, “If you cannot take the rules seriously than you go exactly where you belong. The brig. You may leave when we reach Mars.”

Sunny and Krill exchanged a glance as the commander stormed off.

“Changeling, brain injury, or mind control.” Sunny wondered 

Krill shrugged, “Search me.

No one noticed a form slipping away quietly as the rest of the students were  shepherds away.

***

Sunny and krill sat quietly in the darkness of the bridge watching their friend, as he leaned against the upper platform railing glowering out at the field of stars, and the small red dot that was Mars.

He had been like this all evening sullen and silent withdrawn into himself.

Sunny noticed the figure in the doorway before krill, and quietly stood not recognizing the figure.

“I thought I sent you all to the brig.” The commander said, his voice echoed eerily in the darkness. As far as either of them had seen, the commander hadn't turned to look, so there was no way he could have known who was at the door. The figure paused, and then deciding against running stepped into the room.

It was one of the teenagers. 

She was somewhat muscular for her size with short dark hair colored half purple. She had a squarish jaw and long legs despite being well over half a foot shorter than the commander. 

She did not appear bothered that she had been caught. 

Wandering inwards, she paused next to the captain’s chair, and then in a shocking breach of decorum, she took a seat throwing her legs over one of the arms.

Krill was pretty sure “teenagers” had no sense of personal safety.

Commander Vir turned slowly to face her frowning eyes narrowed.

She locked eyes with him blowing a large pink bubble which popped loudly in the intervening silence.

“Get out of my chair.”

Another bubble, “Why.”

“Because if you don’t I'm going to rip off your arm and beat you with it.” To her credit, she withstood his gaze for longer than your average person might half before finally signing and sliding form the seat and onto the floor. The commander watched her go, as she crossed the ten feet to the navigators chair and made herself comfortable there.

It was the Commander’s turn for a deep sigh.

Krill and Sunny watched in fascination. Like watching a puppy chew on the tail of a wolf.

The commander glowered at her, and she glowered back.

He looked about to say something but was cut off as the student opened her mouth, “Why do you hate teenagers so much?” 

That caught the commander off guard, and whatever he had been planning to say died on his lips.

“I mean I saw you once or twice on the TV, and you usually aren't this much of an asshole, so you must hate teenagers.”

silence .

“Where you bullied in school. Because I-”

He cut her off, “You think you’re edgy don’t you.” It was her turn to be cut off, “Let me guess edgy teenager with some sort of tragic backstory. Maybe mommy is dead, maybe daddy is mean perhaps they are both fine, but they don’t pay attention to you, and so you act out, pretend like you don’t care about anything try to look edgy so you can be different because no one understands you or something, right.”

“Don’t pretend-”

“Don’t pretend to know you, want to know something kid- I WAS you, and let me give you a little secret.” He leaned in,  “You aren’t special, your problems aren't personal. You are exactly like every other kid in there who thinks no one understands them and their problems are special and that the world is unfair, well guess what your problems aren't special, of course the world is unfair, but it’s unfair to everyone. So quit the edgy bullshit because it doesn’t make you cool it makes you an asshole.”

She remained quiet. Krill and Sunny looked on in fascination. Some of the wind seemed to have been taken out of her sails, but she remained quiet, “My turn?” She asked 

“Go ahead, I would like to hear it.”

“You aren’t special either, lots of people were bullied as kids difference is not all of us grow up to be successful. So you don’t even have anything to be mad about.”

He took a seat in the captain’s chair to look at her, “I’m under no illusion that I’m special. I am also under no illusion that I try to be different, just like you. Difference is, I can admit what I’m doing. I’m just like everyone else, a normal guy who got lucky and am now in a place to do something good for once. As for the difference between you and I, I NEVER ruined public property to get what I want. What did you do cut the power outlet to the fusion cables.”

She was quiet.

“It’s either tell me or face jail time, you’re call.”

She sighed and leaned her head back on the seat, “I just….. Wanted to see your ship, ok.” There was silence in the room, “Yeah, I get it was stupid, but my life isn’t likely to go anywhere, but i saw my chance and I took it to at least SEE my dream, and maybe get lucky enough to meet you, but low and behold, I get aboard the ship, and my hero turns out to be a masive Dick, so i guess we both lose.”

There was silence.

Turning to look at Sunny Krill found an expression of shock on her face eyes wide mouth slightly open. She hadn’t gotten up from her seat.

His voice had softened, and Krill watched as the look of anger melted from his face replaced with some mix of shame, “I….. what makes you think your life is going nowhere.”

She kicked her feet, “I’m not exactly good at the whole school thing.”

The commander shrugged, “So what, join the UNSC, and then you can see space all you want, that’s what I did.”

She shook her head, “No can do chief, I’m sick, they wouldn’t take me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Maybe they won’t let you join the marines, but a support position is fine. As far as medical equipment, we practically live in a flying hospital, so whatever you need could be done for you on a ship.” He got up from his chair and stopped to stand next to her staring out at the darkness. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I had a bad time in school and I’m taking it out on you and the others…. It’s not very adult of me…. Or very professional for that matter.” 

She waved a hand, “Its ok most of them belong in the brig anyway.”

He gave a dry chuckle, “Even so, I should probably go apologize.”

“Wow, not every day I meet an adult who can admit when they’re wrong.” 

Commander Vir turned towards the door, “Yeah, if you’re going to join kid, you need to get rid of that hatred for authority complex. Most of us are just doing our jobs and occasionally…. We actually care.”

I wouldn’t go as far as the commander and say that teenagers are the incarnation of evil, but I would, perhaps, suggest that they are the incarnation of the devil’s advocate. They have questions queries and demands that are designed to challenge older humans. If the exchange is met correctly, both will learn something. The younger will gain knowledge from the older, and the older might just understand their own reasoning better than they had before, or even identify issues with their own logic.

If the exchange goes wrong there will only be anger and enmity between the two parties. Young humans need a lot of direction, but they also need the ability to choose their own path. It is an older human’s duty to impart the knowledge allowing the younger human to make the best decisions, without trying to control them.

However, Despite the philosophy, I think there is some argument that can be made for the devil incarnate…. 

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

[cle1024]

save me, save you | hhj

member: hwang hyunjin 

genre: angst, fluff 

summary: getting involved with the mafia was certainly not something you aimed to do in life―it was something you would’ve gratefully avoided, you much preferred breathing and living peacefully. yet, somehow, meeting him made the danger worth it.  mafia!au, gang!au, fem!reader 

warnings: mentions of murder, violence, drugs, swearing 

a/n: so uh,, i know nothing about saving someone’s life or fixing up a stab/bullet wound, and i also wasn’t taught much about human anatomy, so there WILL be inaccuracies in the medical scenes. i apologise in advance and i guess this is a cringe warning for anyone who is actually educated on those situations, i dropped out of science so can’t relate. i started this not long after miroh dropped i could just never be bothered to finish it until recently, but third hyunjin fanfic in a row here we come!!!!!! 

There was no doubt in your mind that Felix Lee was your best friend and always had been. 

The two of you grew up near one another, subsequently attending school together for the majority of your lives. It was the third day of school when the freckled boy approached you, tanned skin and dark hair, but a bright smile and sparkly eyes. 

“My name is Felix, let’s be friends!” 

“Okay.” 

Life by Felix’s side was enjoyable, content. Life was normal. And so, when Felix broke the news that he was moving to South Korea, you were understandably devastated. Though, you knew how much it meant to Felix: getting more in touch with his culture, family, and pursuing his studies more seriously and competitively. Nonetheless, despite all the pain and upset you felt, you supported his decision and maintained contact with him. 

That was six years ago when Felix left. Now, you’d both graduated from high school, Felix had acquired a stable job (that’s all he would tell you about it), and you were applying for an international studies program. You had no interest in the program initially, but your local universities had less than stellar resources for the course you wanted to study, and your teachers had constantly reassured that you were smart enough for a more prestigious institution elsewhere in the world. That and the fact the program meant your tuition would cost much less. You hadn’t expected to be accepted into the program, nor did you expect to receive a letter from the prestigious Seoul National University accepting your enrolment, yet you sat there with the printed letter in front of your awestruck face. It was only natural that you immediately text Felix—you told each other, almost, everything and he lived in Seoul, this could be the reunion you’d joked about when he first left. 

  |  so i got accepted into seoul national university    |  but i don’t speak good korean    |  lix: LMAO ME NEITHER HOLY FUCK 

Twelve months had passed since that message was sent. Your were almost fluent in speaking Korean, you much preferred just listening to it and speaking English with Felix. A sigh escaped your lips as you trudged to your apartment door, exhaustion racked your body from the unbearable demand of studying medical science. You tried to convince yourself it would pay off, but you weren’t certain yet. Perhaps when you sit your exams you’ll find out. Exams. Why did you have to think that up? It drew a small groan from your mouth as you shoved the key into your apartment door, prepared to fall face first into the couch and complain to the air. Though your desires could not be fulfilled. Sitting on the very couch you intended to fall into was Felix, twirling a swiss army knife twirl around his right fingers as he watched his phone intently. There was also a gun on the coffee table. Someone’s gun was on your coffee table. You had a lot running through your mind, many questions and minor concerns about why the fuck Felix had illicit weaponry in your house, but all you managed to say was, “oh.” The boy obviously hadn’t heard you come in, his head snapping up and his fingers halting their twirling. Looking in your eyes, he felt obligated to tell you everything.  

“That means I’m, basically, part of the mafia,” he paused to lick his lips, “we don’t sell weapons to the wrong people or kill for money. It’s more about… corruption and the occasional cocaine,” he summed up gently. You could definitively say it was the wildest fucking thing Felix had ever said to you, and you’d had some pretty odd conversations at two in the morning. As far as you knew, his job was stable and high paying, but you didn’t know it was completely and utterly illegal. Most sane people would flip their shit in this situation, cut off ties with Felix and shove him—along with all his weapons—out of the apartment. You didn’t react that way, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were far too open-minded or because you had slowly lost your mind over time and become desensitised to any sort of shocking news. 

“Oh.” 

Felix chewed on his lip as you processed the information, clasping and unclasping his hands. He prepared for the worst, but you simply shrugged, “okay.” 

Felix was beyond bewildered, “y-you’re not mad? Or scared?” Your eyes softened at his questioning. 

“Felix, why would I be mad? It’s your life, do whatever you want with it. Your job doesn’t change the fact you’re a freckled sook who cried when you made your ramen too spicy.” 

“Okay, that was one time,” you laughed at his defensive expression and that was enough to break the facade completely. The two of you laughed for a little while until Felix’s face returned to a more serious expression, “Y/N, I promise you, you’re in no danger whatsoever. The golden rule in this district is to leave innocent people out of it, regardless of how much someone fucked you over. If anyone, and I mean anyone, does anything that alarms you or threatens you, you call me right away. Understand?” 

A soft smile stretched across your face at his concern, “of course I will,” Felix breathed a sigh of relief. If anything happened to you, especially at the fault of his job, he’d never forgive himself. To him, family came before his own safety; you were his unbiological sibling and he would always protect you as best as he could. 

It was all fine and dandy until someone broke that rule. Your eyes stung with exhaustion, the bright screen of your laptop glared at you as you tiredly read the words displayed on the screen. There was nothing you craved more at the moment than sleep; you seemed to be craving that a lot since you came to Korea. At first, you thought the distant sound of a doorknob being wobbled was one of your neighbours. It was a Friday night—or Saturday morning, you supposed—they’d probably gone out, got shit-faced and stumbled back home, having forgotten how to unlock a door. But then the noise stopped, a door squeaked open and was gently shut. You heard the door click back into place, and that’s when things started to feel off. It sounded too close to be next door—now that you thought about it, neither of your neighbours would even be out at this time. Perhaps it was Felix, he had often complained about how shitty the door to your apartment was. With a stretch of your arms and legs momentarily you pushed yourself from the bed, creeping towards your bedroom door. The cool metal of the doorknob brushed against your skin, seconds away from being opened when a series of crashes sounded from the small living room on the other side of the door. Felix may be clumsy, he may sit up too quickly and hit his head on tables, but he rarely managed to break anything in the process—if he did then the sound was followed with a string of English curses, but cuss words never came. You were starting to believe it was Felix. With all the courage you could muster, you opened the bedroom door and stood shocked at the scene in front of you. A vase lay broken on the floor—crash one. Your white sofa had been tipped backwards, the cushions scattered the floor. The coffee table had been overturned, candles left strewn on the floor. Your porcelain plate, which had previously sat by the sink, was attempting to escape the kitchen in hundreds of pieces—crash two. The wooden shelving unit diagonal to your bedroom had been tipped over, all your picture frames smashed into dangerous shards of glass—crash three. The chest of drawers near your bedroom door had been left untouched for the time being, a photo of you and Felix at seven years old perfectly intact. In the midst of chaos, a man stood with a black ski mask covering his face. All you could see where his ominous brown eyes, staring right back at you. It felt like you were staring into a dark pool, full of mystery yet devoid of emotion or sense of reality. It seemed to happen in an instant; one minute you were standing there in an intense stare off, the next you had been shoved against the wall of your living room right next to your bedroom door, your phone falling from your free hand in the process. His glove-clad hand wrapped securely around your throat, the pressure of his fingers increasing to cut off your air supply once and for all. You clawed at him, but you already knew it was no use. He was twice the size of you, had the upper hand, and had already weakened you significantly. You’d already accepted that you were destined to die at some point, everyone was, but you’d always secretly prayed that you’d get to say goodbye first. You didn’t want to leave without telling your parents you loved them, or telling your friends back home that they were some of the greatest people you’d ever met, or just saying a simple ‘cya’ to Felix, as you always did. Felix. The memory struck you like lightning as your vision started to spot slightly. When he confessed to you about his career, made that promise of protection, he had purposefully left something behind. 

“Take this,” Felix said as he held the swiss army knife towards you. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“If you ever need to defend yourself and I can’t, for some reason, use it.” 

You’d made the wise decision to hide it in your living room, behind that picture of you and Felix. If you could stretch your arm just a little further, you could grab the red covering. Your fingers strained as you held out for the weapon, head lifting up as your vision worsened. The sharp metal tickled at your fingers, causing you to desperately snatch the weapon up. You used all the coherence you had left, swiftly flicking the knife out of the plastic covering. Your vision was blurred, severely, and you could feel yourself losing consciousness. Just a little longer. With all the strength you could muster, you brought the blade upwards, taking no notice of where you stabbed him. A grunt left his lips, followed by some choked gasps. His hand unlatched from your neck to grab his own. You fell to your knees, wheezing for oxygen desperately, taking deep breaths as you coughed and gasped. Your eyes traveled downwards, catching sight of the red. There was blood all along the knife, staining your fingers. The man lay ahead of you on his back, blood spilling from his throat as he twitched and choked up the metallic substance. It was all over the floor around him. You could tell you’d caught an artery. In desperation, you tugged the purple hoodie from your shoulders, holding it against the man’s open neck wound. It seemed to get harder to breathe, even without the hand working to restrict your. Hands shaking, covered in the man’s crimson blood, tears streamed down your face. With the absence of your purple hoodie, now stained with the blood of someone else, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. There were some red smears on your once white singlet. Why was there so much red? The shaking of your hands only worsened as you crawled to sit against the wall, hand reaching for the cellphone you’d dropped in the commotion. You only needed one person right now. The phone didn’t ring for long. 

“Y/N, what’s up?” Felix spoke calmly through the phone, blissfully unaware. A sob forced up your throat as you tried to talk. 

“F-Felix, I killed someone. Oh, God, I killed someone,” your voice came out between broken sobs. You could imagine Felix standing up in a panic, gathering his shit and furrowing his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean? Where are you?” 

“I-I’m at home, someone came in and I didn’t know what was happening and I-I stabbed him, Felix I sta-” 

“Hey, take a deep breath, okay? I’m on my way right now, don’t move,” you nodded in response, knowing fully well that Felix couldn’t see you. Mumbling an okay, you ended the call. 

Felix gently pushed open the door, ushering in the others. Chan, Minho and Changbin had insisted on coming along with Felix, worried someone else could be lurking and waiting for Felix to enter your apartment block. The apartment was in disarray: furniture tipped, photo frames shattered, a plate thrown carelessly like a toy. A body surrounded by blood, and Felix’s childhood friend sitting against the wall behind it, shaking. The purple material of your hoodie was stained, noticeably so, laying across your legs haphazardly. Felix rushed forward, crouching to your level and pulling you into his chest. The others watched from a few feet away, uncertain of what to say or do. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” Felix cooed as sobs wracked your form. He swayed you gently, petting your hair to calm you down. The youngest turned his attention towards the other boys once your sobs quietened slightly, “Minho, can you take Y/N back down to the car? We’ll be down in a minute,” Minho nodded silently, gently walking towards you to scoop you up in his arms, the hoodie remaining bundled up on your legs. Neither of you said a word once you entered the car. Minho peeled the cover up from your lap, slightly gagging at the toxic iron scent of the blood. He gently take your hands in his as he washed off as much blood as he could with a white cloth and water bottle. Your mind was evidently elsewhere. 

Chan and Felix returned to the car ten minutes later after thoroughly searching for stolen possessions. Chan filled Minho in on the details, hoping you’d gain some closure from hearing them, “he was from NCT, had some silver bracelets and their wallet shoved in his bag. Changbin called Woojin, they’ll put everything back in place,” Minho nodded softly as Felix opened up the car door on your other side. The car starts as Felix takes one of your hands in his, the red stains faded to a lighter tone. You seemed to take no notice, staring blankly at the car’s console in front of you. 

It was late, or early depending on how you see it. Red lines illuminated in formation of the time, 3:36am. The car had pulled up in front of a dark house in a quieter area of Seoul, yet still off one of the main roads. You concluded that it was only quiet because of the ungodly time, otherwise there would be cars cramming the streets, honking left and right. Chan exited the car first, purposefully closing the door gently to not alarm or shock you, Minho following suit. Felix opened his door, tugging your hand gently to encourage you to leave the vehicle. It was as if you were on autopilot. Blood splattered legs moved on their own as the green hoodie Minho had leant you protected your arms from the chilling night air, Felix’s arm slipped around your waist to support you as you walked into the house. He noticed that Woojin’s car was missing from the street; he wondered how long it would take Woojin and Changbin to fix up your apartment. As you stepped foot inside the quiet house, it revealed itself to be much larger than you initially thought. The kitchen was furthest from you, a spiral staircase to the right that led you both upstairs and downstairs, a hallway that trailed off from the left side of the living room. The living room was cozy and inhabited by two boys packing cocaine. Lovely. 

“Hey ma- what the fuck?” The smaller of the two, a brunette boy with chubby cheeks, spoke as he raised his head to greet the returning members. The other boy, with lighter brown hair, almost a dirty blonde, mirrored the other’s confusion. Neither had expected to see a random person with bloody hands, legs and absent eyes being guided through the house by Felix. The freckled boy didn’t stop to greet them, immediately guiding you upstairs to wash off in the bathroom. The two boys immediately understood the severity of the situation, but they still craved for answers. 

“NCT went after them. All they did was defend themselves from death,” Chan spoke firmly, his eyebrows slightly curved in a mix of sympathy and fury.  

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed, “but we don’t go after innocent people?” 

Chan huffed in response, “clearly NCT had other plans. Where’s Seungmin?”  

“Basement. Jeongin’s there too,” Hyunjin spoke as he turned his attention back to the white substance on the coffee table. Chan nodded firmly before leaving, Minho falling onto the empty couch across from the two boys to stretch his tired limbs. Hyunjin sat with furrowed eyebrows, staring at the table intensely. 

“Hyunjin, you good?” Minho questioned in concern. 

“Yeah, just… something feels off about this.” 

Jisung huffed a laugh, “well, yeah, NCT just broke a golden rule.” 

“That’s the point, why would they?” Jisung had suddenly lost interest in the business transaction being organised on the table, Minho sitting up in curiosity. Hyunjin flickered his eyes to the staircase momentarily, “you know how anal they are about maintaining that rule. Taeyong made the damn rule after…” Hyunjin trailed off as all eyes lowered solemnly, no one wanted to utter her name. They all knew how much it hurt Taeyong when she was murdered, everyone was hurt, shocked. There was no reason to bring up old pain, “why would they break it now?” Minho tilted his head as he wandered over the possibilities, Jisung put his focus back on the white substance with a sigh. 

“Whatever the reason, Chan will make them pay,” his nimbled hands continued with his previous work, “no fucking doubt.” 

Chan stood as Taeyong entered the cafe, bowing and shaking hands before sitting down again. It was better to meet in a public setting, less likely for emotions and irrationality to get the better of anyone involved. The older ran a hand through his fiery red hair in frustration, “what happened?” 

Chan lowered his voice cautiously, “Felix’s friend, Y/N... one of your men tried to kill them this past Friday.” 

Taeyong moved forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on the table with narrowed eyes, “what are you talking about?” 

“Ji Hansol broke into their apartment and almost killed an innocent person. One of your men broke the golden rule.” 

“Where is he?” Taeyong was evidently furious; that rule was the one thing he drilled into his employees’ minds. 

“Dead. It was either him or them.” 

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “if they hadn’t have already killed him I would’ve done it myself,” he paused abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, “wait—Ji Hansol?” Chan nodded, “how is that possible? He’s meant to be in China.” 

Chan mirrored Taeyong’s look of confusion, “then what the hell was he doing here?” 

Taeyong sighed, “as suspicious as it looks, I swear on her life that NCT was not behind this in any way. I’ll get the documents to prove he wasn’t meant to be here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this, I’ll do whatever I can,” his voice softened significantly, “no innocent person deserves to die.” 

Lee Taeyong, as intimidating as he could be, was truly a weakened man. Behind the eyebrow slit, dark narrowed eyes, fiery red hair and commanding presence, he was a grieving lover, a leader of men who could die under his call. Chan knew he hadn’t lived the same experiences as the older, but he understood the fear that plagued him. The fear of losing everything, everyone—the only difference was that Taeyong had already experienced that when she died. Seulgi had done such a good job at keeping Taeyong together, but in doing so she became the only thing that could tear him apart. 

No one had a clue as to why you were targeted to begin with. NCT had proven their lack of involvement, none of Chan’s gang — which you’d come to know as ‘Stray Kids’ — had done anything to provoke Hansol, and he clearly wasn’t here to give an explanation. Seungmin had spent weeks researching the man, with the occasional help of Jeongin when he wasn’t at school or using an innocent childlike facade to coax information. After just over two months, Seungmin had finally found out what happened. During that time, you hadn’t left the guest room unless it was absolutely necessary. Felix and Changbin had returned to your apartment the day after the break-in to collect the belongings you’d need most desperately; none of them wanted you returning to the apartment until there was an answer. 

Seungmin’s chair swivelled around to face Chan and Taeyong in the doorway, “Voler.” 

“What?” 

“It’s French for ‘steal’ apparently,” Seungmin gestured his pen towards his desk, “it’s also the name of a huge hitman and robbery scheme across Asia. It’s believed to have stemmed from the Yakuza, but nothing’s confirmed. Our dear Hansol happened to be a loyal member.” 

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “I-I don’t understand, how could he betray us like that?” 

Seungmin sighed softly, “it paid very high, mainly because the stakes were so high. That doesn’t matter though, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands now,” Seungmin’s hands sifted through the scattered information on his desk, a small noise of triumph leaving his soft lips once he retrieved the piece he was looking for, “they’ve got a base in Ilsandong-gu, Hansol was stationed at that specific base-” 

“Which means they were more likely to have involvement in Y/N’s robbery,” Chan voiced earning a satisfied nod from Seungmin. The curly-haired man turned to Taeyong, “you in?” 

Taeyong eyed the younger two momentarily, “without a fucking doubt.” 

Woojin grunted slightly as he supported Hyunjin with his left arm. They all knew the dangers this mission presented, but none of them quite preempted severe injury. Everything had been going to plan; Changbin sniped the first man who presented himself, Minho snuck up on the second, then all hell broke loose. There was blood everywhere, gunshots whizzing past barricades left and right, it was pure chaos. Hyunjin had been grappling with a rival member, trying to gain dominance in order to reach for the gun abandoned beside the two. He had almost reached it when the other forced a knife through his abdomen towards the upper right of his belly button. Changbin took the chance to shoot the perpetrator in the head after noticing the situation, desperately signalling to Woojin. Soon, all of SKZ were alerted of Hyunjin’s state, covering Woojin from gunfire as he half-dragged half-carried Hyunjin out of the warehouse. 

When you heard the door burst open, the last thing you expected to see was a groaning Hyunjin leaning on Woojin for support. You saw the blood staining his shirt, pouring from his abdomen, causing your stomach to churn and rid of the desire to eat the sandwich you’d just made. You hardly knew Hyunjin, or Woojin, or any of SKZ except for Felix, but you knew where your morals lied. If there was a man bleeding out in front of you, you’d do everything you could to save his life. There’s no denying that you didn’t have extreme confidence in your medical ability, at least in terms of operating on dying people, but you put that aside in the moment. You knew how the human body worked and how to save it, all you had to do was not fuck up in the process. Instantly, you snap into action, trailing behind Woojin towards their designated medical room. The only time you’d entered the room was when Felix forced you inside so Woojin could properly check the bruises on your neck. You had taken notice of the lack of anesthesia or oxygen masks to be used in desperate situations—Felix had once told you that Woojin always patched them up, but he also told you that no one had ever been fatally wounded. 

Woojin’s panic was evident in the way he hastily laid Hyunjin down on the operating table, eyes darting around frantically. With quick steps, you moved beside Woojin, “get a cloth or something to put in his mouth, it’ll muffle the screams,” the older nodded quickly. You turned your attention back to Hyunjin—he was paler than usual, sweating and groaning, his condition was only worsening. As soon as Woojin had shoved the cloth in his mouth you proceeded, ordering him to hold Hyunjin down to the best of his ability. You were glad Woojin was strong; Hyunjin would be in a hell of a lot of pain. Hyunjin’s neck tensed as you placed a hand on the knife’s handle, grunting slightly at the movement. You took a deep breath, laying a hand on his abdomen for support as you removed the knife from him as quickly as you could. A pained scream tore from Hyunjin’s throat, guttural and haunting. The cloth had done little to muffle the sound. Your hands applied pressure to the wound, frantically working to halt the bleeding before it was too late, all the while Woojin promised he would treat Hyunjin to a free meal if he got through the pain. 

Hyunjin’s chest raised up and down peacefully as he slept in the white bed of the medical room. After screaming and groaning his way through the process of getting stitches, he haphazardly downed a glass of water before falling asleep. You found it difficult to monitor whether the boy had made it or not due to the lack of heart monitor, the peaceful sounds of his breathing would have to do for now. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N, really,” Woojin spoke warmly. You’d have previous assumptions about the mafia and gangs, mainly based on Hollywood flicks that dramatised the career choice, but the nine boys seemed to throw those all out the window. Woojin had a nurturing and calming presence, Felix was playful and giving, that Minho guy who’d fixed you up that night was quiet and respectful. To be fair, the rest of them could have entirely fit the stereotype of the mafia, you just hadn’t interacted with them enough to find out. After the events that brought you here, you decided it would be best to just stay out of the way and keep to yourself—both for your benefit and theirs. You didn’t want to interrupt what they had going on and you didn’t want to interact with anyone. With a polite smile you nodded your head, unsure of how to respond to Woojin. 

Chan stood in the doorway as you laid the damp cloth on Hyunjin’s head. Two days had passed since the stabbing and you’d devoted all your time to helping Hyunjin—you figured it would be a good way to repay them for letting you stay here, and you were the most qualified to do so. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to get back to work but his body simply refused. Exhaustion wracked his limbs when he was awake and every time he attempted to sit up, let alone stand, his head felt like a bowling ball and weighed him back down. He’d fallen asleep not long ago, before Chan came to check on him. You weren’t aware of the older’s presence until he spoke up, startling you into a flinch of fright. 

“Thank you for doing this.” 

You half-smiled at him, “it’s okay.” 

The male sighed gently before walking into the room, the click of the door shutting behind him sliced through the room’s air. You felt his presence beside you as you refused to meet his gaze—he was far too intimidating even by just standing there, “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” his voice was gentler than before. Soft, calm, genuine—he probably wouldn’t fit the stone cold stereotype set by Vito Corleone in The Godfather, “we’ll figure out a safer place for you to go, but, in the meantime, just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I truly am sorry that you got dragged into this.” 

You turned your head in order to meet Chan’s gaze. It was soft, genuine, and almost broken. You got the feeling that he didn’t enter this lifestyle willingly, that he knew exactly what it was like to suddenly be affiliated with a lifestyle you had little to no prior knowledge about. Chan wasn’t here by choice, but he stuck by it. He followed through with what fate served him and he built an empire from it, he found a family to live through the darkest of days. You admired that more than he could know, “I will. Thank you for what you’ve done.” 

Chan didn’t voice it, but he saw your arrival as a potential opportunity. You were familiar with medicine and how to properly patch someone up after they receive a life-threatening injury. Rather than losing two fighters when someone is injured, surely it would be better to have a designated nurse who could stick to the job, instead of forcing Woojin to rush through life-saving surgery in order to make it back to a mission in time to drive everyone back to the house. Chan knew it was a desperate deal, stupid and selfish in all honesty, but your arrival could’ve been a long-term blessing in disguise. After all, Chan’s life had been largely riddled with bad luck, perhaps karma had finally taken mercy on him. 

At least a month had passed since the incident—you really had no concept of time in this place—and Hyunjin was slowly, but surely, recovering with no sign of infection. You’d also seen his bare abdomen one too many times at this point since he insists on being shirtless―he avidly insists “it’ll be easier than fucking up my shirt.” Aside from monitoring his recovery and trying not to stare at his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you’d began to form a good bond with Hyunjin during your time together. You never talked to him until the incident, mainly because you never had a reason to leave the room you were staying in, and you couldn’t deny you were slightly mad with yourself for not conversing sooner. He was entertaining to talk to, a little bit of a drama queen sometimes, yet intelligent and open-minded. Hyunjin had a good mix of personality traits, you slightly envied him for such. Surely conversing with someone like yourself was bland and repetitive. 

Of course it was unbeknownst to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth; Hyunjin had taken an interest in you since you began caring for him. All he had known about you prior to your care was that you and Felix had been good friends for a while, you were studying at university, and your shit got rocked by someone you didn’t even know―it was an unfortunate turn to say the least. The fact it happened to you made Hyunjin curse the forces that caused it; there was no reason for you to be dragged into this kind of unforgiving, inescapable lifestyle when you had a heart of gold. He could vividly recall the conversation that prompted the revelation, it must’ve been two or more weeks into his recovery. 

“I assume you study nursing or something, right?” 

“Medical science, but close enough,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Why medical science instead of becoming a doctor or something?” 

“We all die one day, I’d rather help find a cure for something than force people to suffer through it slowly.” 

Hyunjin hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he didn’t, but it resonated with him. The whole reason he’d joined the business, this kind of inescapable lifestyle, was to earn enough money to pay for better treatment for his mother. He got close, really damn close, but he just didn’t get there in time. The first non-business phone call he got was to inform him about his mother’s passing, he hadn’t received another since. 

It was evident to Hyunjin, and every other member, that you were incredibly smart―a fact Felix would boast as if it was his own. Your skills, mainly in the science field, could come in useful to the gang: you had a good medical understanding, knew which chemicals could do harm or hinder a person momentarily. Chan was intrigued by your abilities and more than willing to take you on board, but no one ever joined without the approval of every member. Gaining such had been a difficult task, with Felix insisting that he didn’t want to see you hurt or in harm’s way―his mind quickly changed when Jeongin asked “wouldn’t it be just like a sleepover?” Hyunjin wasn’t as easy to persuade. He didn’t share the fact he was hesitant, but he didn’t need to. It was written all over his symmetrical face. 

Truthfully, Hyunjin had grown a little too close to you during his recovery, obliviously until he had a startling epiphany. You were the last thing he saw when he fell asleep, the first thing he saw when he woke up. You cared for him more than yourself, it was evident in your under eye bags and weight loss ― to the point where he had refused to eat unless you were eating with him. When he looked at you, the evening sunset highlighting you perfectly and your hair unstyled, yet sitting neatly on your head, he knew he was in deep. Regarding his feelings, he had two concerns: whether you felt the same way, and whether Felix would be accepting of his feelings and approve him as a candidate for your love; he didn’t need the added possibility of you fucking dying to become the third concern. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn’t matter. Felix would never want anyone to hurt you, and even if he didn’t intend to, Hyunjin knew he would inevitably end up doing so. 

When Chan proposed for you to join their gang, you were hesitant to say the least. For you, there was no desperate situation in which you needed cash quickly, no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. It was dangerous, Chan admitted that to your face, but he promised you consistent protection and a position that didn’t include staring down the barrel of a gun. 

“Y/N, you’ve been here for four months already. How many times have you been hurt?” 

You didn’t like his persuasiveness, or the fact he was right. Since you moved into their guest bedroom you’d felt safer, no longer feeling eyes follow you or whispers of your name in the middle of the night. There was a small part of you that wanted to decline the offer, return home to your apartment and never look in the eyes of Chan or Hyunjin ever again. Of course, that was only a small part of you. Although you hated to admit it, you knew you’d never be able to return to that apartment. Not without seeing the blood all over again, feeling the breath leave your lungs or hearing unexplainable noises elsewhere in the apartment. With a soft movement of your head, you agreed, “okay.” 

Chan smiled with a strong nod, he was fond of you after all, as were the others in the group. It seemed that everyone was in support of the decision, especially your freckled friend who beamed as he exclaimed, “it’ll be like an eternal sleepover!” 

“That sounds like a nightmare if you’re involved,” Seungmin deadpanned, but his stoic expression was quickly replaced by an amused smile at Felix’s pout. Though, everything wasn’t as it seemed. Hyunjin, as much as he wanted to be, wasn’t excited. You joining the gang ― regardless of whether you would be in the middle of the action ― meant seeing you everyday. Seeing you everyday meant realising how much he admired you. And admiring you meant he would only fall deeper. How could he tell anyone that, though? Such an objection would send a rift of embarrassment, discomfort, awkwardness through the house; everything would fall. There was no time for silly crushes. All he could do was admire you from afar and ache every time you walked away from him, completely oblivious to how he felt. When did he become so weak? Hyunjin didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and that’s exactly how you made him feel. With a soft sigh, he decided it would be better to just stay away. 

It was a solid plan―for a month, until Hyunjin was injured again in a trade gone wrong. If he was being completely honest with himself, which he recently was not, the constant thought of you kept him from concentrating during the trade. He felt so out of it, blocking out the sounds of his non-biological brothers yelling as a bullet whizzed towards him. No, all he saw was the way you looked so ethereal in the light, the way you would always be just out of reach. All he could think about with you, there was no time to consider the scars being etched in his abdomen. Faintly, he could feel the burning in his chest, Chan’s arms dragging him away as bullets rang out from Changbin’s position on the roof. He didn’t register being put in the car, or Chan demanding he keep his eyes open with a hand pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel his feet dragging slightly as Chan and Woojin dragged him inside, the sight of Hyunjin’s pale face and bleeding chest forcing Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin to abandon their intense game of uno. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, shit,” Chan and Woojin couldn’t find the time to scold Jeongin’s language, too concerned with the dying boy in their arms. Jeongin’s feet pounded up the stairs, throwing your door open and tugging you to the first aid room. The confusion on your features transformed to gut-wrenching worry as soon as you caught sight of Hyunjin, his shirt off and a cloth being stuffed in his mouth―you couldn’t tell whether it was Minho or Woojin who was holding him down while the other gathered the necessary equipment, everything seemed to blur as you jumped into action. You’d found someone willing to sell you, an unlicensed medical student, anesthesia, but it was due to arrive next week―just your luck. Chan’s hands clamped on Hyunjin’s legs, Seungmin turned away to avoid the gruesome sight, Jeongin lingered by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” the words came out as a whisper as you took the scalpel from Woojin, slicing across where the bullet had entered. The entry hole was too small to get it out safety―who were you kidding, you weren’t even sure if you could get it out. The cloth only slightly muffled the pained groan Hyunjin let out, gosh, you wished that anesthesia could’ve come sooner. Screams of agony tore from his throat as tweezers worked to remove the bullet, the writhing of his legs causing anxiety to rise in your chest. 

“Keep him still,” Woojin ordered. One sudden move and you’d live with the crushing guilt of knowing you let Hyunjin die. Hyunjin seemed to vaguely register Woojin’s words, opting to tense his muscles rather than squirm away from the pain. Seungmin covered his ears with a solemn expression while Jeongin looked away in discomfort, the shrill cries continuing. It was close, too close for your liking, to hitting Hyunjin in a fatal area or embedding deeply in his chest. 

“I got it,” you mumbled as the bloody metal was dumped in the dish beside you. Woojin ushered everyone out of the room, Hyunjin’s screams of agony downgrading to groans. 

“Give me a call if you need anything,” the oldest closed the door behind him. You heard the front door slam open and shut with frantic footsteps, marking the return of Felix, Changbin and Jisung. Words were calmly and indistinguishably spoken by Chan. Though, it didn’t matter what he was telling them, your priority was making sure Hyunjin wouldn’t cease breathing. His eyelids were fluttering shut from exhaustion, an action that would flare alarm in your chest. 

“Please, don’t fall asleep.” 

The cloth was removed from his mouth when it was over, your hand raking his hair away from his sweaty forehead, ridding of the uncomfortable sensation. A sigh passed your lips, voice soft as you spoke, “you need to stop making a habit out of this,” it was directed towards Hyunjin, but you weren’t sure he heard it. 

Hyunjin wanted to respond, something flirty he could blame on his disorientation and pain, but you were already urging him to down some bottled water. As you cleaned the utensils, Hyunjin allowed his eyes to flutter closed, whispering a gentle “thank you, Y/N.” 

Time passed without your acknowledgement; had it been weeks, months? It all blended together, you couldn’t be certain. Hyunjin was close to recovery, but not quite there. Frankly, you were getting tired of his occasional complaints about not “being in action”. Part of you hoped he’d stay out of action if it kept him safe, but you knew that wasn’t an option in this kind of lifestyle. The roots of his hair were coming through, the dirty blonde darkening to have a light brown tone instead. It was the little things that were becoming noticeable as you spent more time with him; the moles on his face, the way the sun seeped through the window and reflected so clearly in his eyes. He sat on what was referred to as the ‘operation table’―except it wasn’t padded and was likely meant for veterinarians―as you searched for mild pain medication. When you turned around, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire him. His head was turned away from you, gazing wistfully out the window, the setting sun illuminating his honey skin in rays of golden sunshine. He looked like a statue from Greek mythology, sculpted by the Gods to embody perfection, frame marked with the scars of a warrior. They littered his abdomen, one from the stabbing, one from the bullet, one on his lower back that Woojin had patched up for him before you came ― it was obvious in the way it was majorly faded. A sigh passed the male’s plump lips, looking down at his fidgeting hands before looking up at you. If only you knew what he thought about you. How he felt you were incomparable, the finest piece of art to ever be masterfully painted. The oversized white shirt you wore contrasted your glowing skin and hung around your figure in an unfitted, yet still accentuating, manner. It wasn’t quite long enough to hide your blue pyjama shorts from sight. You approached him quietly, holding out the painkillers and a glass of water. Pulling yourself on the table, you sit beside Hyunjin as he downs the painkillers and watch the sunset. He glances over at you curiously, gulping down a mouthful of water, “you seem to be pretty good at saving lives, why aren’t you a doctor already?” A light laugh passed your lips. 

“Because I’m not studying to become a doctor, and I haven’t spent, what? Nine years studying?” 

“It takes nine years to become a doctor?” Hyunjin’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull. You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Something like that,” a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, watching as the sun swam closer to the horizon, “besides, I don’t think I’d be able to handle the pressure of saving someone’s life.” 

A chuckle sounded from Hyunjin, “you say that, yet you’ve saved me from death twice.” You grew silent, he looked at you knowingly. The thought had never crossed your mind, you didn’t want to consider the possibility of Hyunjin dying―you didn’t want to imagine any of them dying, Hyunjin was the only one who’d come close so far. 

“Yeah, but that’s… different.” 

“How is it different?” Hyunjin looked towards you with a quirked eyebrow; you often wondered that too. You refused to look at him, too afraid of spilling all your secrets with one glance―but they came out in whispers, regardless. 

“Because… I can’t live a life where you’re dead.” 

The words almost slipped by him, blending in with the light breeze swirling outside, but he caught them. In one sentence, Hyunjin had the answers to every question that’d swarmed his brain since the week after his stabbing. There was no hesitation in his actions, cupping your left cheek in his hand and turning your face towards him. The sun glistened in your eyes, highlighting the enchanting colour of your orbs, shadows danced lightly on your face. In that moment, he wanted you to know that you wouldn’t lose him, no matter what. His eyes fluttered shut as his head dipped down, fulfilling the dream he’d chased since you first saved him. Your lips pressed together in a warm embrace, melting together as if they were made for each other. His tongue swiped at your lower lip, asking for access that you granted. As the sun rays of gold heated your skin and framed your soul, Hyunjin swore he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

#stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stay kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin scenario #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin angst #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin fluff #skz #kpop #kpop angst #kpop scenario #kpop fluff #i'm going mia again

[imaginethathaikyuu]

countdown to christmas - day 6

kuroo tetsurou - fireplace

hi friends. a bit of a warning: today’s scenario is quite sad, mainly because sad is something i’ve been feeling a lot here recently. my point with this is to show that while christmas time is happy and cheery and fun, sometimes it’s really shitty, too. and if your christmas season isn’t going well, you’re not alone. 

i promise tomorrow’s scenario will be brighter. but just in case sad isn’t your thing and you need something to read, here are some links to happier scenarios:

yesterday’s christmas prompt  some kuroo fallin in love with reader  akaashi getting a sweet birthday surprise 

potential trigger warning: mentions of (the whole thing is about) a pet passing away gender neutral reader 

- 

The festive music playing on the radio cut through the dead silence that seemed to be suffocating you. And while it would typically lift your mood and force you into a familiar jolly state of mind, right now you were sure nothing could do that. 

You couldn’t help but realize how ironic it was that such a happy song was playing, though. 

Life goes on. There were people struggling everywhere every day. Bad things will always happen. But life as you know it always continues; the world doesn’t change just because your life does. Happy songs play on the radio even when you’re miserable. The sun still comes up every morning, no matter how desperately you wish to be left in the dark. 

And nothing you said would make Tetsurou, or yourself, feel better. 

You had to drive home from the animal hospital. He tried getting in the driver’s seat like usual, but you wouldn’t let him. And you couldn’t stop glancing over at him, as if you were checking to make sure he was still there. 

He was good at holding himself together, that’s for sure. But you knew once the dam broke, it’d be broken for a long time. 

The drive was hell. It only took ten minutes but it felt like an eternity. The entire time, you just wanted to get out of that damned car - Kuroo was feeling the same. But when you pulled into the driveway, neither of you made a move to get out. 

Tetsurou was the first to speak, though. “I don’t want to go in,” he said, and his voice was breathy. He was struggling to speak. You could see the wall he’d built up starting to crack. 

You reached out and ran your hand along his slumped shoulder; he looked so small sitting in that passenger seat, and your eyes were tearing up looking at him. 

He laughed as he said, “it’s gonna be so quiet.” 

He was clutching the collar that sat in his lap; he hadn’t let it go since the vet handed it to him. 

“I know,” you whispered. 

“I knew it was going to happen,” he said, shaking his head as if that would make his all of his bad feelings go away. He was really trying to be strong, you could tell. “But… I just hoped that - that maybe…” 

“Tetsu,” you said sadly. You didn’t really know what you were supposed to say. “They did everything they could…” 

And then it was quiet again. That’s probably what he needed right now. 

But it was getting cold, and you two couldn’t sit in the car forever. You’d have to go inside some time - sooner was probably better than later. 

“We should go in, babe,” you said. “I’ll make you some tea, alright?” 

“Okay,” he sighed, and you had to reach over and give him a kiss on his cheek just to make yourself feel a little better. 

You led him inside, which was much harder to do than either of you would like to admit. 

Tetsurou hadn’t come home to a quiet house in years. He doesn’t remember the last time he didn’t have a big brown furry monster - also known as Rex - welcoming him home. A part of him still expected to see the dog running down the hallway, tail wagging and ready to jump up to give him a few welcome home licks. 

He wanted to pinch himself until he woke up from this awful dream. 

He walked into the living room alone, for some reason still nervous to look under the Christmas tree to see if there was another broken ornament, even though Rex hadn’t been home since this morning. He sat on the couch and looked over at the fireplace, which so desperately needed to be lit, but he couldn’t look past the three stockings hung there. One for him, one for you, and one for Rex. 

“Fuck.” 

Of course something as awful as this had to happen days before Christmas. This was meant to be the happiest time of the year. But money he should be spending on dog food and new toys was now being put towards a vet bill. The new treats he had bought yesterday would now just be left in the cupboard. The cute Santa costume he had always made Rex wear on Christmas was just going to keep collecting dust. 

And the collar he held was now useless. So was the name tag hooked to it. 

When you came into the room and called his name, he nearly fell off the couch; he was so lost in thought that he couldn’t even hear you coming in the room. 

You sat his tea down in front of him and went to the fireplace to start it up; it was way too cold to go without it. You turned on the Christmas tree lights, knowing Tetsurou liked when they were on, and then you flicked on the TV and let the random Christmas movie playing fill the silent room. 

“Tetsu, baby,” you started as you sat down on the floor in front of the heat of the fireplace. “Will you come sit with me?” 

He felt like a zombie as he forced himself to slide off the couch and onto the floor so he could scoot over to you slowly. He was sure his eyes were hollow looking and his cheeks were tear stained - he didn’t know how you weren’t laughing at his appearance, and honestly he wouldn’t blame you for it. 

When he was in your reach you didn’t hesitate to kiss his cheek again - twice, actually, just for good measure. And he let his head fall onto your shoulder as he felt his eyes filling up with more tears. 

“I love you,” you told him, because you didn’t want to say anything else. 

“I know,” he whispered. 

“So did he,” you said. “He loved you so much, Tetsu… you were the best he could’ve had.” 

He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know whether to be sad or pissed or a weird combination of both; he didn’t know if he should be proud of himself or just feel sorry. But his confusing feelings did nothing to stop his cries; in fact, he’s sure that’s partly what he’s crying about. 

Rex was old. Kuroo had gotten him at age 12 - he was 25 now and he knew he was lucky Rex had lived for as long as he did. And he saw it coming, he really did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

He still managed to laugh at himself, though. He must’ve looked like a kid, sitting there crying in your arms; it was almost pathetic, but he couldn’t care. 

“I just hope,” he started, crying and hiccuping his way through the words, “I just hope I made him as happy as he made me, you know?” 

“You did,” you replied, laughing at the memories your words brought up. “You did, Tetsu. Couldn’t you tell? He was so attached to you.” 

He laughed with you. “I know,” he replied. 

He was going to have more room in his bed now. But he was really regretting all the times he complained about Rex taking up so much space. He never thought he’d miss being forced out of his own bed by that near bear sized dog. 

He’d give anything for one more night like that. One more chewed up shoe. One more broken Christmas ornament. Hell, even one more puddle of piss to mop up. 

But as he sat there in your arms, listening to the crackling fireplace, he forced himself to come to terms with it. This was his life now - he wasn’t a dog owner anymore. And he should be grateful that Rex was in a better place - god, he hoped he was in a better place. At the very least, he wasn’t hurting anymore. Tetsurou would choose this pain over what Rex had been feeling recently any day. 

“Tetsu…” 

You had been wanting to say something since the car ride home, but you didn’t know when the right time was. You weren’t sure there would ever be a right time, but right now seemed good enough. 

“I know we got him a lot of treats and toys for Christmas…” 

Kuroo nodded, unsure what you would say next. 

“What if we took all that and donated it to the shelter?” 

Even though the thought only made him cry more, Tetsurou really liked the idea of that. If he couldn’t give it all to Rex, he wanted to give it all to the dozens of dogs who deserved it. 

“I’ll pick up some food, too,” he mumbled. “Maybe tomorrow.” 

“There’s no rush,” you said, but Kuroo disagreed. 

“We have to take it before Christmas,” he insisted. “I usually give Rex his treats early, anyway…” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that. This was the saddest you had ever seen Tetsurou, and the worst thing you had witnessed him go through. But somehow, he was still thinking of others. He was still so giving and generous, even though you knew he was running on empty. 

You knew donating the supplies would make him feel better. That’s why you had brought it up, after all. You admired him for that. 

“I love you,” you told him again. “So much.” 

He nodded and mumbled, “I love you, too,” before wiping his eyes and pulling his head away from you. He glanced at the fireplace, then over at the TV, and then at the Christmas tree. Just last night, Rex was laying underneath it. Now, the floor was empty. 

But at least he had those years with him. And at least he had you here now, holding him up when all he could think about doing was falling down. 

He didn’t know why, but more than anything, he felt grateful. He was probably going to cry more, he’d be upset for awhile, and he’d miss Rex forever. But Tetsurou was grateful. For time spent, for years of happiness, for you. Maybe this Christmas wasn’t going to be very happy, but that’s okay. There’s always next year.

#uhhhhh i know this is weird to write about lmao #but as always i am portraying my own current struggles/feelings through fanfiction #i hope u enjoy it anyway #thank u tetsurou for suffering for the sake of my fanfic <3 #christmas countdown 2019 #Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu imagines #angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu one shot

[ashintheairlikesnow]

You’re Singing To: Peter and Henry

This is a short piece and a good morning gift for @spiffythespook! Her OC Henry and my OC Peter, just having a moment. CW for references to pet whump and two guys being absolute idiots about each other.

Peter had come in to ask Henry a question - somehow, he’d ended up lying on his back on Henry’s bedroom floor instead.

His knees were up and bent so his feet were flat on the floor, half-dozing in a loose long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants with his hands folded over his stomach while Henry laid on his stomach and looked through a book or something up on his bed. 

Henry was humming to himself, and Peter didn’t know this song - maybe it was a new one, a song he was writing - but it was soft, and kept him lulled in his doze. The notes Henry was humming skipped up and down in a complicated rhythm, one that Henry never missed a beat on but Peter could never have come up with it.

Sounded like something he was writing - it didn’t sound like any music Peter had ever heard, anyway… and besides, Henry wrote music constantly now, scribbling bars and thoughts down on every spare scrap of paper, playing a little on the piano as he walked past it, losing himself in hours of vocal and piano practice, even beyond what Karen required. 

His voice was stronger than ever, but every song he sang was laced with a wounded emotion Peter knew Karen couldn’t hear. 

Peter could hear it, though, which was why he was lying on the floor of Henry’s room in the first place. Henry had been humming something sad when Peter had originally walked in. 

The song wasn’t sad any longer, but the thing about Henry was that he didn’t really talk much. You had to just be around him for a while, and wait, and maybe eventually he’d answer your questions with more than a single syllable in reply.

“What are you doing?” He asked, without opening his eyes.

“Math,” Henry replied.

Well, okay. Maybe he hadn’t been in here long enough yet.

Peter crooked one eye open to look over and up. Henry was chewing on the end of a pencil, his eyes focused on the book open in front of him. Those eyes flickered to Peter’s, briefly, and for a second Peter felt like something caught him, in a way he didn’t understand.

Then Henry looked away, and the feeling was gone.

“You’re doing math?” Peter asked, certain he’d heard wrong but also just wanting Henry to look at him again, for reasons he couldn’t really name or explain. “On purpose? For fun?”

“I like math,” Henry said flatly. “It gives my brain something to do. I like figuring things out. The library has the textbooks for the classes I was-” His voice caught.

Peter watched the shadow that went across Henry’s face and then was gone, buried behind the mask of calm apathy that Henry wore like armor. 

“I had this whole plan… I was going to major in math, and minor in music when I went to college, so I could still keep learning all the things I love, and I just…” Henry frowned and leaned over, scribbling something on a piece of paper, never taking his eyes off the book. “I had a plan, before… this. This was going to be one of the classes I took my freshman year.”

Before she put a collar on me and told me I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I probably had a plan, too,” Peter said, with a shrug. He didn’t know, actually, if he would have had a plan. The contract he’d signed said he was eighteen, but he wasn’t, and they all knew it. Dex had told him, once, that he was sixteen years old still when he was taken into training. That was illegal, that was a crime, but who do you tell?

Call the WRU hotline, Peter thought, and caught a cynical little snicker before it made it out of his mouth. Oh, Madam would love that. What she did to Dex would look like Ring-Around-the-Rosey compared to how she’d react if I called and reported her to her own company.

Henry was looking at him when he opened his eyes again, pencil flat on the paper. “What? What are you laughing about?”

A bit of his red hair had fallen over his forehead, and Peter’s eyes were stuck there for a second, and his fingers twitched. He wanted… something, some vague ill-defined something that he couldn’t seem to hold onto long enough to name it. He felt like this around Henry all the time now, itchy and impatient but not knowing what he was waiting for.

“Nothing,” Peter answered, with a shrug. “Just thinking about, um, how Madam would react if I called her hotline to report that she got me underage.” 

Henry snorted. “‘All pets are of legal and consenting age,’” He recited, matching Karen’s tone of voice exactly, and the two of them grinned at each other. “God, even I had to memorize that, and I didn’t even have to do training. Everything they make you guys memorize is just one more big lie.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure something they taught me is true,” Peter said, faintly, trying to think. He didn’t remember training very well - white walls and white lights and pain and dizzy and sick. Defiance and fear, until he’d been sent to Karen herself as a gift, half-broken and still spitting curses.

Throwing up the meat she fed him, again and again, until finally all it did was hurt him, and he could keep it down. 

Peter pushed himself to his feet, and Henry watched him, shifting slightly to lay more on his side. “Are you leaving?”

“No, I’m going to steal your stuff,” Peter said cheerfully, ducking into Henry’s closet. “I don’t get any fancy clothes like you do, I want to look at them.”

“Yeah, go ahead. At least I get to dress nicely,” Henry muttered, penciling the answer to a new question on his paper. His voice became a little muffled as Peter went into Henry’s walk-in closet, the second-largest closet in the house after Karen’s own. On one side, Henry’s casual clothes - button-downs neatly pressed and hung, even his jeans were hung on hangers folded in half, not that he ever really wore them. Folded sweaters in a special dresser just for them. A line of shoes, mostly leather and Karen made Peter be the one to shine everyone’s leather shoes.

“I wish I knew why she hates me so much,” Peter mumbled, looking at the line of suit jackets on the other side, all in colors Karen had chosen for Henry. He and Henry were almost the same size - Peter was on the shorter side, and Sebastian had said once or twice that the Facility training had probably made him skip his last growth spurt, if he was going to have one. He and Henry were almost the same size.

He found one of his favorites of Henry’s - a deep blue but with a kind of pattern in the weave of the fabric, lighter blues that melded and blended and Henry looked amazing in this one, under the performance lights. The last really big WRU party, some kind of charity fundraiser, Henry had worn this one to play piano and sing, and Peter had watched him all night and thought about how nice the blue looked with his red hair.

“I’m really glad you kept your brain,” Peter called out, as he pulled the jacket off its hanger, feeling his fingers slide over the soft fabric, the satin-y lining inside. A secret pocket, with-

There was a piece of paper in Henry’s little secret suit pocket, and Peter swallowed. He… probably shouldn’t have, but he pulled the folded piece of notebook paper out, looking at it.

“Are you?” Henry answered, his own voice slightly sardonic, calm as always. “Because it means I do math for fun, which I think officially makes me the most boring person who lives in this house.”

“You’re not boring,” Peter said, a little defensively, and unfolded the paper to look down at it.

He blinked at what he saw, written in Henry’s careful, angular handwriting, black ink on what paper with blue lines.

Breathe, Henry. It was a note he had written to himself, apparently, to have on-hand for the last performance he had given. Never let them see you care. You’re not singing for them. You don’t sing for her. She isn’t the reason.

You’re singing to Peter. 

He swallowed, but it felt like his throat had closed, and he swallowed reflexively, again and again staring in silence down at the paper. At the same time a flush of prickly, strange heat seemed to settle along just under his skin, goosebumps raising and then settling and what did that mean, you’re singing to Peter?

Henry was talking, but there was a rush of sound in Peter’s head and he didn’t hear it. After a pause, memorizing the words Henry had written, Peter folded the paper back up and slid it back into the pocket, a secret to be kept by both of them from each other.

Then he slid the jacket on over his shirt, feeling the slippery-slide movement of the silk lining, the slight weight of the heavier fabric as it settled over his shoulders. 

“Hey, did you hear me or not?” Henry asked from outside, and Peter wondered if he was blushing, because his face felt suddenly too warm, uncomfortably flushed. He shook himself like a dog shakes off water, raked a hand back through his short dark hair, and stepped out of the closet. 

“No, I didn’t. What’d you say?” Peter asked, tilting his head. 

Henry didn’t answer, just stared at him in the suit jacket, slowly pushing himself up to sitting, his eyes traveling over Peter’s shoulders, the way a curl of dark hair rested over the back of the jacket’s neckline, down over his chest and his stomach and then back up to his face.

Peter saw Henry swallow, too.

They met eyes, for just a second, and something felt wrong and terribly right, and Peter was worried if he took a step he’d keep walking right to the bed. Henry didn’t like to be touched, and so Peter mostly didn’t, but he didn’t always mind if Peter was the one who touched him - to ruffle his hair or hug him when he was scared, to hold him when he cried for Dex’s injuries or for his own lost future.

Henry’s eyes locked on his, and the moment drew out. Seconds where neither of them moved. Then Henry cleared his throat. “I said-… I want you to-” Henry’s voice cracked, and he looked away. 

The moment broke.

Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“I said, um,” Henry said softly, “That we should go downstairs for lunch pretty soon. Are you going to take Dex some of yours, or should I take him some of mine?”

Look at me again.

“I’ll take him mine,” Peter said, his own voice low. He wanted to take the jacket off and he didn’t, because it kind of smelled like the cologne Henry wore when he did performances for Karen’s friends, and the smell around him made him feel almost light-headed, not quite drunk with it… not that he knew what being drunk felt like.

Please look at me again.

Henry nodded, pushing himself up off the bed, pushing the hair back from over his forehead. “I’ll go ask Seb what we’re having. Probably soup again, Dex mostly eats soup right now, so-”

“Henry.”

Henry froze, his eyes on the wall and not on Peter. “What?”

Look at me again, I want to see if you look the same this time, just look at me.

“How… how do I look in your suit?” Peter’s voice was nervous and a little weak, deeper than he meant it to be but shaking at the same time. Too nervous to hold it back, to not show it. He’d never had Henry’s gift for hiding, Peter’s thoughts were out in the open. 

Henry looked at him, but only sidelong, like he was afraid to look him in the eyes again. “You, uh-… you look good,” He said brusquely, and then pushed past Peter and headed out the door. Peter stood there, in Henry’s room, listening to the sound of Henry’s feet on the stairs.

He felt himself sink, and closed his eyes against the sensation of a nervous stone, cold and heavy, taking up residence inside of him where the hint of excited hope had been before. 

Peter slid the suit jacket off and neatly laid it on Henry’s bed, letting his fingertips linger on the fabric just over the secret pocket, where the folded note was hidden inside. Maybe it hadn’t meant what he’d thought it had. Henry was too private, he lived inside his head and even Peter didn’t really know what he was thinking most of the time. He didn’t like to be touched, and he wasn’t-… Peter was maybe just too lonely, here.

Reading into things.

He was really good at that, Peter thought, although he didn’t know where the thought came from, or the certainty. He’d been good at reading into things, before. 

He hesitated, leaned over to take one last breath of the smell of the cologne that lingered, caught in the fabric and giving off the slightest hint of the way Henry smelled when he sang. Henry didn’t like to be touched, and what Peter thought he’d seen in Henry’s face couldn’t possibly be real.

Just wishful thinking.

He did a lot of that kind of thinking around Henry, now.

Then Peter straightened himself up and headed out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He could hear Henry talking to Sebastian downstairs - his voice was calm and even without even a hint of the hesitation, the little bit of shake, that Peter had just heard.

Peter stood at the top of the stairs, wanting badly to go down there but wanting to be anywhere else, both at the same time. Then he sighed and turned, heading across the hall and to the right instead.

He’d check in on Dex, and maybe by the time he went back downstairs he wouldn’t be blushing, he wouldn’t feel so constricted by his own skin, and he wouldn’t want so badly to see Henry look at him like that again.

You’re singing to Peter.

Maybe by the time he went downstairs, he’d stop thinking that that note had to mean something that it couldn’t possibly actually mean.

Something he wanted it to mean so badly it hurt.

#henry: better off #peter: courage #drabble #pet whump #referenced pet whump #referenced whump involving a minor #but no actual whump #but two guys #being idiots #about each other #original fiction #someone has a cruuuuush #it's both of them #they both do #captivity #conditioning #forced ingestion of meat #box boy #box boy universe

[emmett-the-wrighter]

Screamers

“Write a post-apocalyptic story that features zombies.“

No one knew why the screamers screamed.

On a good day, when the wind blew in the right direction, you could hear them a mile off. That was when it was time to move, or else they’d come for you with their eyes dripping blood and throats gone raw. Whatever terror they saw, you’d have to be careful not to catch it too and if you looked into the eyes of a screamer, you were lost.

People had theories and rumors, of course, but no one really knew was it was like. Something just snapped and you started screaming like the rest of them until you were lucky enough that someone could put you out of your misery.

This time, there were three of them. I was up high, with eyes fixed on a point just to the left of the group. Even this far, you never knew if one of them might make eye contact.

“I don’t want to waste bullets,” Twig said from behind me. I cocked my head towards his voice but didn’t take my eyes off, well, my peripheral eye, off the screamers. “Scissor maneuver?”

I shook my head. “I can take care of them if you keep watch.”

He grunted and reached forward to rest a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Careful.”

With a nod, I stood and finally turned to look to my partner. Or rather, look down to my partner. Short and wiry, he was as comfortable scrambling across the bridges and towers of the outpost as I was to be firmly on the ground. For once, he had put some sort of order to his thinning mess of blonde hair, but the grooming attempt had ended there. Dirt, dried blood, and other filth deepened the lines of his sunbeaten face.

I frowned. He looked more strained than usual. Being out here for so long had started to take its toll, but I doubted he’d ever admit to it. Just like I wouldn’t admit to how shit I probably looked. We were both used to it after all this time together.

Twig was quick to notice my scrutiny. His voice whipped out in a defensive, “What?”

I forced a chuckle and plastered a disarming smile across my face. “Just admiring the view.”

He snorted and waved a hand at me. “Save those charms for the next generation.” With a final scoff, my partner moved around me and took up my seat on the edge of the tower. I chuckled again, more genuine, and clumped my way towards the lift.

Even at his age, twice that of my own, Twig was able to scamper up the ladder or crossbeams of the tower like a monkey. I was not so fortunate. Even with my strength, the armor strapped to me firmly suggested against testing my luck with heights. With ropes and pulleys, I could heave myself up or down on the lift platform. That was enough of a risk for me.

I didn’t care about the creak of my armor or heavy tread of my steps. If the screamers hadn’t seen me already, they wouldn’t be able to hear me over their own shrieks. I wasn’t the silent type like Twig. I was a juggernaut, a bowling ball, and the screamers were little more than pins to be knocked down.

They did see me.

One broke from the trio, those aggressive types that just streak for you like a wildcat. I hefted the hammer and turned my right side towards the runner while lifting my left arm to prepare for the blow. The poor thing wouldn’t even notice it coming.

Crack!

The hammer caught it right in the ribs. Years ago, I would have winced at the impact, but I had been young and naïve back then The screamer wasn’t down yet. It lurched back, all the while its raucous cries battering at my earplugs. I still didn’t look at it. They weren’t safe until they were dead, and even then some Silencers were superstitious and thought you had to wait three days before daring to meet their eyes.

As soon as I struck one, the others perked up like dogs on a hunt. They broke into a frantic galloping run. The one I had struck wasn’t attacking yet. It could think, could plan and it knew I was dangerous.

I hated those ones.

The other two were on me and I struck one right in the face. It fell back and lay still. The other grasped and clawed at me, trying to get through my armor. I raised my eyes upward, keeping them in my peripheries. That was the hardest part, sometimes.

My hammer swung again, pulverizing the skull of the one already downed. I thrust out with my arm to try and detach the screamer clawing at me. The first one was still biding its time. That was more troubling.

I let a roar burst from my throat as I whirled and flung the annoying one off of me. My hammer was quick to follow in a rapid strike to its throat, cutting off its voice.

That was when the other finally struck.

I grunted as it slammed into me. It wasn’t as big as me; few people could match my bulk. But it still sent me staggering for a precious heartbeat and I whirled to send my hammer into its side. The black metal head whooshed harmlessly through the air and I turned further to see the shape dart further around me.

Something sharp dug into my leg and I gasped, nearly looking down, but yanking my gaze away at the last second. The damned thing on the ground had bit me through some chink in my armor to gnaw my leg to bits.

I grit my teeth and kicked at it once to break its grip before sending my hammer into its skull.

Another slam from behind, and I tripped forward over the body, just catching myself with the hammer into the dirt. Twig was probably laughing at me from up there. Sledge, the juggernaut, being walloped by a single screamer? He was sure to tell the other Silencers about that over drinks, the old bastard.

I led with the hammer, whirling to clip the thing across the jaw. It fell backwards, and its screams took on a higher-pitched wheezing quality. It wouldn’t be long before its bleeding black eyes went vacant and it’d just be another job well done.

Tugged by an urge, my eyes flitted across its face the moment it lay still. Everyone wanted to at least once, even those old veterans who scoffed at such a thing and could fight wearing a blindfold if they needed to. Like Twig.

Another hammer blow put the matter to rest.

I stopped, panting. Sticky sweat collected under my armor, and I squirmed internally to know that it’d be moist and cold before long. That was the downside of being “the juggernaut”.

“That looked easy,” Twig mocked with a wide grin when I pulled myself back up to the top room of the tower. “Fall asleep halfway through?”

I rolled my eyes.

He laughed. “You can relax soon. Convoy’s on the horizon.”

I found a chair and let myself fall onto it with a clank and thud as my armor rattled. “Thank gods for that.” Lifting a hand up, I rubbed at my eyes. I couldn’t get the look on the screamer’s face out of my mind.

We had already packed up our gear from the place that morning, and doffing my armor, I started loading the lift to take it all down. When the convoy arrived, two trucks and a couple riders, we only lingered long enough for a few pleasantries with the Silencers replacing us before we were on our welcome way home.

“You gonna get that looked at?” Twig said when we had crested the hill before the Town. He gestured at the oozing bite in my leg. I looked down. The wound was shallow enough that I had completely forgotten about it among the other aches, pains, and constant itches.

“Are you crazy?” I flashed Twig a grin and raised the stump of my right pinky to him. “And give Doc more excuses to cut bits off me?”

“Good.” My partner leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms slowly. “You thought about the future at all?”

I lowered my hand as he spoke. “What about it?”

The truck jolted over the stretch of potholes, and Twig waited for the jostling and crunch of wheels on gravel before he spoke again

“Well,” he finally said. “I’m getting old, Sledge.”

I waited for him to say more, and when he did not, I reached out to clap him on the shoulder. “Not so old, old man. You still Silence with the best of ‘em.”

He twitched a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You gotta find a different partner someday, kiddo. I mean to retire before something makes me retire for good.”

There it was.

I raised a shoulder and lowered it in a shrug. Then added a noncommittal grunt for good measure. “Not everyone works with a partner. Not everyone can keep up with me.”

“What about Wire?”

“I don’t like knives.”

“Bucket.”

“He’s a dumbass.”

“Twitch? Pix? Clinker?”

“Too unpredictable, too addicted, and I just don’t like her face.”

Twig snorted.

“None of them are you,” I added, quieter.

He turned fully to look at me, his sunken eyes soft on my face. He licked his dry lips once, chewing on his answer before tossing it out. “And no one will be. But they don’t gotta be.”

I twisted my lips to something between a smile and grimace. “Maybe I don’t mind-“

Something dark flickered in the edge of my vision. My head whipped around to follow it, but it was gone even before I had realized I reacted.

“What is it?”

I shook my head gingerly. “Just a bird or something. I’m on edge.”

“It’ll be good to get some rest.” He raised a hand in greeting as we neared the thick wall surrounding the Town. Militia patrolled the wall, clad in their armor with guns in hand. A few shouted pleasantries, but it didn’t much matter what exactly they said. I was too antsy to notice.

The trucks rolled through the gate and came to a halt in a lot just beyond. I stood and stretched my still-protesting muscles before vaulting out of the truckbed and landing with a jolt on the ground. Finally home.

“Welcome back,” someone called, and I looked up to see Sergeant striding towards us. His thin-lipped smile was infectious, and even if it wasn’t, the pouches of coin he carried were enough to make both me and Twig grin in return.

“Week’s pay,” Sergeant said, tossing over the pouches, Twig’s first. “Any bonus this time?”

I jerked a thumb at the truck. “You have to ask? Three today, plus nine from the rest of the week.”

Sergeant whistled through his teeth. “Well-earned. Want it now or on your tab?”

“Tab,” Twig said as I chimed in with, “Now.”

He nodded to us both before producing a handful of  coins and offering them out to me. I stepped forward and reached for them- but hesitated. Something flickered in Sergeant’s gaze as we stared uncomfortably at each other, and for a moment I wondered how much he really wanted to keep this money from me.

Enough to pull for his gun?

I blinked the thoughts away and closed my fist around the coins.

“I’ll record your tab with the Arches, Twig,” Sergeant said as if that little standoff hadn’t even happened. Had it? “See you both around.”

Back in our cabin, I dumped my packs onto the floor and then dumped my worn-out carcass onto my bed. The blankets were scratchy but they welcomed me back with an embrace worthy of a lover and pulled me down into a hazy half-sleep. Being able to close my eyes without a care was the sweetest damn feeling I had ever known.

Finally home.

Something dug its claws into my throat and I lurched for my hammer, thrashing about with a pained cry. When I opened my eyes, all I could see were black sunken holes in a drawn face, shadows oozing out between void and flesh.

“Hey- Sledge! Hey, it’s me.” Twig’s voice broke through the fog and I blinked to see just his eyes wide with concern and his hand touching my shoulder. “Just- lower the hammer, alright?”

I swallowed dryly and let it fall down onto the bed next to me.

“You fell asleep,” he said.

“Right,” I said weakly. My voice was a pathetic rasp so I wet my lips and tried again. “Right. Thanks.”

“The Arches? We could use a drink.”

“Gods, please.” I heaved myself up and made for the door.

Twig secured our usual booth and settled like a king before a tray of drinks. I stopped dead. His face stretched grotesquely, his mouth in a Cheshire grin with sharp teeth and jutting cheekbones. On the arm on his chair, gnarled talons of his fingers dug into the soft plush.

A blink later, he looked normal again.

I really did need that drink.

He said something, ending it with a laugh, but I hardly heard it. My gaze was drawn by something out the window, a movement disappearing around the corner. Had someone been watching us?

“Yeah,” I said vaguely, replying to a question I hadn’t heard. A twitch squirmed in my eye, and I blinked it away. Whatever Twig said, I only nodded along, keeping my gaze fixed out the window.

“-decided yet?” Twig asked me and I snapped back to realize he was quiet, awaiting my answer.

“Uh, no.”

He nodded in understanding. “Well, there’s no rush yet. I won’t be going anywhere for some time.”

That deserved a smile, so I forced something tight and thin-lipped. “You better not.”

“You don’t look okay,” Twig said, and I was startled by the grotesque dark note in his voice. I looked up to see his brow furrowed, his lips twisted in disgust and his eyes beady and glinting. His fingers were gripping the arm of his chair again- no, one was at his side, toying with the garrote coiled at his belt.

I stood, knocking my chair back. It crashed to the ground, chasing off the shadow lurking in my friend’s eyes, leaving someone who just looked old and a little concerned.

“I need some air,” I said sharply.

Movement to the side. My head jerked around as I tried to follow it. Nothing. Just someone reaching for their money. Or was it their knife. A gun?

“Alright, alright,” Twig said soothingly. The tone of his voice sent a coil of anger rippling through me. He stood, and I realized he meant to come with me.

I licked my lips and shook my head with a snap of my voice. “Alone.”

The hammer at my side was a comfort as I stumbled away from the table and pushed out through the door.

The cool air was a sparse reprieve, settling the flushed warmth of my cheeks. I started walking, keeping from the shadows. They reached for me and I spit at them, scaring them back.

They wouldn’t get me.

One flickered by, and I whirled, panting. It was gone. Good. It had better run. “You better run,” I said for good measure. Another shadow reached for me and I crunched my boot down firmly on it, feeling no resistance but the ground.

Why did I always end up alone? That thought built its way up into a cry in my throat that I tried to choke back down. My hands were shaking. I could feel the tremors wracking at my arms. Twig would be gone forever and I’d be-

I was alone.

A shadow entered my field of vision and I jerked back, hand flying to my hammer before looking up. Twig stood before me, arms crossed and his jaw set in a frown. He wasn’t alone. I heard more footsteps approach, then stop, but my attention was all on Twig.

“Just stay right there,” my partner said. I could feel the other Silencers around us, standing in alleys and paths. Blocking any exit. Any escape.

My voice shook as badly as my hands. “Twig, wh-what’s going on?” Something wet dripped down my cheek and I cursed myself, lifting my hand to wipe at the tear. Silencers didn’t cry. I never cried. So why now-

My hand came away red in the moonlight, and I stared at my hand. I looked up to Twig again, seeing something terrible in his expression, though he didn’t meet my eyes. I swallowed, forcing my voice to steady.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I said. My voice lowered. “I’m not… I’m not one of them, Twig. I swear it. I never-“

He shook his head slow and sad, but said nothing.

“Twig. Please.”

His hand lifted and I stared down the barrel of the gun he pointed at me.

“Twig.”

“Just- don’t, Sledge,” he said. He had difficulty getting the words out, and I saw something glimmer in his eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it’s gotta be.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, and I took my eyes off him for just one moment.

One moment was long enough.

The smile dropped from my mouth as quickly as if someone had slapped it away. That wasn’t Twig anymore in front of me. The empty shadowed sockets leered at me from over his twisted grinning mouth. His flesh writhed and twitched, flaying away in dangling strips. They closed in around me, leering with empty eye sockets and a void where there should have been a soul.

And in that moment, I realized what none of them ever could.

I screamed.

This was adapted for Reedsy Contest #60. Anyone interested in the original is welcome to contact me. https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/contests/60/submissions/35813/

#Reedsy #Prompt #Horror

[queenofcats17]

@bornoffireandwisdom / @askthesaudadecharactersbatimau asked me to write a story for her Saudade AU Apocalypse Spin-off and I am happy to deliver. This is gonna be really good.

But also very sad. So very sad

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Grant had gotten bitten.

Ever since the beginning of this apocalypse, this had been his nightmare. It had all happened so fast. One second, he’d been looking through a dumpster for supplies and the next a zombie had been sinking its teeth into his arm. He’d reacted on instinct, fumbling out the knife Shawn had given him and driving it into its skull. It was too late, though. The damage had been done. He’d been infected.

His mind was reeling as he ran back toward the safehouse. This couldn’t be happening. What would Shawn say? Would Shawn try to kill him? Tears began to sting at his eyes. He didn’t want to turn into one of them. His breath came in short gasps, both from the exertion of running and from the fear suddenly gripping his heart. 

“I don’t want to die,” he whimpered.

He’d seen people turn before. Once or twice he and Shawn had come across people who’d been bitten only for them to turn when the infection got the better of them. It wasn’t fun to watch. Especially when they could feel themselves changing and begged to be killed so that they could die human. Was that how it was going to end for him? Begging for Shawn to kill him so that he wouldn’t have to become one of those monsters?

He only stopped once he was sure he was far enough away not to encounter any other zombies. He leaned against a wall to catch his breath. He clutched his injured arm to his chest, smearing blood on his shirt. The bite wound throbbed with a pain he’d never felt before. He looked down at the wound, chewing on his lip. There were indentations on his skin where the teeth had met his flesh. They were filling with blood, some spilling out and down his arm. The skin around the teeth marks was an angry red, the veins a sickly green and yellow.

“What do I do?” Grant whispered, sliding down the wall to collapse to the ground. 

He couldn’t tell Shawn, he decided. He didn’t want to put Shawn through the dilemma of whether or not to kill him. It would tear him apart. When he turned...at least then the decision would be clear. He needed to do something about the bite, though. He could clean up the wound, but it would be hard to hide the signs of infection.

“I’ll just hide it under bandages,” Grant said to himself with a weak laugh. “I can say I cut myself.” Shawn would believe it easily enough. Grant had accidentally hurt himself more than once while scavenging. Shawn wouldn’t question if Grant told him that was what had happened.

Grant stumbled to his feet once more, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. His heart continued to pound, though. Deciding his course of action regarding the hiding of the bite didn’t change the fact that he was going to die. It didn’t change the fact that he was going to become one of those things. Just remembering that was enough to almost send him crashing back to the ground. 

“Don’t cry.” He scolded himself as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Crying won’t change anything.” 

Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. The tears began to stream down his cheeks as sobs wracked his body. He didn’t want to die. Not like this. 

“Come on, Grant.” He hiccuped, trying to will the tears to dry up. “This won’t do anything.”

He kept crying, though. He stood there and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore. Until all that came were dry heaves and sobs. He took a few more deep breaths until he was calm enough to move, then headed back to the safehouse. 

Shawn wasn’t there when he got back to the attic they’d been staying in, allowing Grant to clean up his wound and hide the signs of the bite under bandages. They were running low on bandages and medicine. He’d have to look for those the next time he went out scavenging. 

With his wound cleaned, Grant rolled his sleeve back down to cover the bandages. If he was lucky, Shawn wouldn’t ask why his shirt was all bloody. 

“Hey.” Grant jumped a bit when Shawn re-entered the safehouse, having gotten lost in his own thoughts. “Scavenging go alright?”

“Yeah. It was fine.” Grant forced himself to smile. 

Don’t ask about my arm please don’t ask about my arm.

He’ll see right through me if I have to lie I can’t lie to him he’ll know

“Good to hear.” Shawn smiled wearily back. 

“How was your scavenging?” Grant asked, subtly trying to hide his arm.

“Didn’t go as well as I hoped.” Shawn dumped his sack on the ground, pulling out some cans of food and water bottles. “Couldn’t find any more medicine or bandages.”

“But you found food and water.” Grant pointed out, picking up a few of the cans. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Shawn stifled a yawn. “I’ll go back out again later to try again. At least we won’t starve, though.”

“Yeah, starving would be bad.” Grant laughed weakly. He wasn’t craving human flesh yet, but he knew he would be soon enough.

“I’m gonna go take a nap. Can you keep watch?” Shawn asked. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes. It made sense that he’d be tired. Neither of them had been getting much sleep lately.

“Yeah, sure,” Grant said. “Have a nice nap.” 

Shawn yawned again, heading into the bedroom. Grant turned his attention to the trap door to their attic sanctuary. How long could he last before he succumbed? He hoped it wouldn’t happen before Shawn woke up. He didn’t want to kill his best friend in his sleep. No use dwelling on it, though. All he could do was wait. 

And so he did.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #batim saudade au #BATIM Saudade Apocolypse AU #grant cohen #shawn flynn #tw injury #tw blood #Zombie Apocalypse AU #tw violence