#makes you breakfast for dinner. lets you do drugs. covers up your murders. he's such dad material

[tantamounttoflirtation]

Thinking abt when Hannibal made Abigail a smiley face breakfast. If you ignore all the manipulation he's actually such a fun dad

#h talks #makes you breakfast for dinner. lets you do drugs. covers up your murders. he's such dad material #and he gives good hugs. this guys paternal instincts are off the charts (not really but I can pretend) #nbc hannibal #Hannibal #Murder Family

[valentinoappreciator]

My Heart's Got teeth

So.... I wrote something Cursed(TM). Read at your own risk!!!!

Media: The Quarry (Video Game)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Travis Hackett / Laura Kearney

Warnings: EXTREMELY non-con. Drugged sex. Aphrodisiac. Breeding. Forced pregnancy (implied). Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

A/N: I do NOT think that Travis would actually do this. He's not that kind of guy, in my books or in my canon. I simply saw someone point out dark / yandere Travis, and I had a Mighty Need. You know who you are <3

If you're not cool with these elements, now's your cue to back out.

Can also be found on my AO3, TheWeirdDane, under the title 'My Heart's Got Teeth'.

“You can’t keep me in here!” she shouted, spittle and fury flying at his face. 

“I can do damn well whatever I please,” he snarled back, not missing the sliver of shock in her blue eyes. Then it was gone, and Laura Kearney banged her closed fist on the bars of the jail cell, as if that would do anything besides giving her a sore hand. 

As he had expected, she cursed, but didn’t let him see how much it hurt. She rested her hand against the bars, glaring up at him. 

He smiled. Cold and dark, like his eyes - without end and without beginning, you could lose yourself in his gaze. 

“Behave, and do as I say, and maybe I’ll let you out early for your good behavior.”

“Fuck you!”

That idea was certainly new, but not... entirely unwelcome. Travis had simply just never thought about it before. This girl - this fucking disaster - had not only disobeyed his instructions to go to the Harbinger Motel with her loud, annoying boyfriend, resulting in more werewolf shit than necessary, she had also killed his entire family. More or less single handedly. 

He grabbed his baton and knocked it against the bars, purposefully missing her fingers with only an inch or two. She didn’t move. 

“Poor aim for a sheriff,” she growled. 

Perfect. 

Travis pretended to miss again, only to smack the baton hard against her fingers when she didn’t expect him to, making her curse again. 

“That’s one point for bad behavior. And who knows what that will get you.”

Again, a sliver of cold fear flashed in her eyes, but then she had covered it up with defiance and anger. 

“You can’t do anything to me. That would be illegal, and it would be abuse of power.”

“You know what else is illegal, miss Kearney?” 

A beat of silence that she didn’t dare try to break. 

“Murder. I don’t think the sheriff will take kindly to you killing his entire family. Anyway,” he said and banged the baton loudly against every single one of the bars as he stalked towards the exit, not taking his eyes off of her for even a second, “lights out in ten. Better get comfortable.”

There wasn’t much, if anything, for Laura to do in this hell hole of jail cell. There was an uncomfortable bed, so she didn’t get much sleep, and there was an old, sad excuse for a toilet in the corner. Not very inviting. The sink was in much the same state - worn by time and usage, it had minor cracks everywhere, and the water was always freezing cold. 

A single window far above her ‘bed’ allowed for the sun and moon to illuminate the poor holding cell. It was barred up, and besides, it was high enough above that she couldn’t reach it, even if she stood on her tiptoes on the firm mattress. 

This sucked. 

She didn’t even have Max for conversation. God knows where he was. He could be a bother, and he could be dull and boring, but at least he would be better than letting the thoughts and fears fester in her head, becoming big, puss-filled wounds, with scabs that hurt to pick at. 

It was just her in here. 

She had no sense of time, and only Travis’ punctuality when it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner helped her make sense of what time of the day it was. An actual date, though? Forget it. 

So much had happened in such a short span of time that Laura had simply lost her sense of time. She could have been in here for a week, or for a month. Technically, it couldn’t have been an entire month yet, because she hadn’t had her period yet. She loathed the thought of having her period in this hell hole. 

The way she saw it, she had two options.

One, ask Travis for menstrual products. The mere thought was mortifying. 

Two, become a free bleeder and bleed on everything in the cell. That wasn’t a super pleasant prospect, either.

Thus, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

***

Days passed by, and they were all painfully dull and similar, until one day, when Travis served her breakfast. 

He put the tray on the ground as per usual, but unlike usual, he stayed and watched her grab the tray, pulling it towards herself. 

“What are you looking at?” she huffed, poking at her food with a finger. He didn’t give her cutlery. Not even a plastic fork. It was ridiculous! 

“Stand up.”

“What for?” she asked, trying to sound bored. 

“Stand. Up. I won’t ask again.”

Not in the mood to have him use force, Laura stood up and stuck her hands through the bars so he could handcuff her, as he always did when she had to exit her cell. Why would she have to leave, though? Was it shower day already? 

His hands were strong and rough as they secured the handcuffs around her wrists. The silence was tense and charged with something, as if Travis wanted to say or do something. It made the hair on the back of Laura’s neck stand up. His eyes were intense, and she had to look away by the time the cold metal sat snug and tight on her wrists. 

“Open your mouth.”

“What for?” she repeated, this time taken by surprise. “So you can poison me?”

He smiled tightly. 

“Trust me, as much fun as it would be to feed you rat poison, I can’t. Abuse of power, remember?” 

“Fucking dirty cop,” she growled. 

“And if I was? What then? You’re all alone, no beloved boyfriend to call me names,” his eye twitched slightly, “no-one to collect evidence that you’re not making it all up. You have no-one left here, miss Kearney. It’s just you and me.”

“Don’t call me that,” she spat, anger flaring in her eyes despite a growing fear settling in her stomach. He was right, and he knew it. There really was no stopping him if he decided to murder her. He was bigger and stronger than her, and he had the upper hand. Not only was it his precinct, meaning that he knew the ins and outs of the station way better than she did, but he also had her in cuffs. 

She was, quite literally, at his mercy, and she hated it. There was nothing she hated more than not having another option, of being caged in. 

“Open,” he ordered again.

They stared into each other’s eyes, until the intensity became too much for her, and Laura reluctantly opened her mouth, fear making her heart beat a thousand times faster than usual. It made her queasy, made her breathing come faster. 

Leaning her head slightly back, she couldn’t see what he put in her mouth, under her tongue, but it was rounded and rather small. Didn’t taste of anything. Wasn’t rat poison supposed to taste like shit?

She frowned slightly.

“Close.”

With a frustrated roll of her eyes, she closed her mouth, and stared back at Travis who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. 

His lips pursed in a smile, and he looked far too smug about the situation. 

They stood like that for entirely too long before Travis removed the object. 

“Good girl.”

Laura’s stomach churned, and she instinctively kicked out at him, but only hit the bars. Then she looked down at what he had stuck in her mouth - it was a thermometer. 

“What the fuck are you doing, taking my temperature?”

He sent her a look, undid her handcuffs, and left without another word. 

The idea hadn’t left his mind since he had formed it. There were a million ways to torment Laura Kearney - he could starve her until she was delirious and willing to accept any deal he proposed. He could taunt her with - made up - news about her idiot boyfriend - surely she would want to know how he was doing. He could look at her while she showered. Maybe even comment on her. He could talk sweetly to her. 

Really, the possibilities were positively endless. 

Yet, he had found an idea that would make him very happy, and would make her very miserable. It would bring them closer together, in the way that only sweaty intimacy could. 

It was perfect. 

When Travis looked at the thermometer, he nearly threw it across the room, before he reminded himself that it could take a few days more until she was ready. It was okay. Everything was going according to plan. A few more days, and he could bring the plan to fruition. 

He continued to take her temperature every morning - making her more and more confused - until one day, her temperature was higher than normal. 

She was ready, whether she knew it or not. 

With a new spring in his steps, he prepared her lunch and walked to her cell. 

She lied on the bed, back to him, curled in on herself. Was she in pain already? 

“Rise and shine, sunshine,” he said flatly, banging on the bars with his baton. Laura shuffled a bit, groaning loudly. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“My stomach fucking hurts, asshole,” she groaned. “What the fuck did you put in my food?”

“Whatever it was, clearly not enough. Do you want lunch or not?”

“Not.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He put the tray on the ground and unlocked the cell. With one hand on his gun - there was a good chance she was faking pain again - he walked over to her. Something stirred inside him, and suddenly, he was the one with the higher-than-average temperature. 

“Stay the fuck away from me, you creep,” she snarled, twisting her neck to send him a venomous glare. 

“Careful you don’t use your entire quota of curses in one day, young lady,” he chuckled, and when he touched her shoulder, she lashed out at him. Her nails swiped at his cheek, leaving red lines, but Travis couldn’t care less. 

She was weakened and in pain - he had the upper hand. He could do whatever he wanted to and with her. 

The thought made warmth slither through his veins, and he grabbed her shoulder, turning her on her back. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, trying to appeal to her and get her to say what caused her this great agony. 

“It’s my fucking period!” she then snapped and sat up, pushing him away with a foot to his shoulder. “I’m bleeding out my fucking pussy!”

He knew she was trying to fluster him, make him feel awkward or maybe even ashamed. 

“I know what periods are. I have a niece. Well. Had.” 

“Then you also should know to leave a woman alone when she’s on her period!” 

Travis swallowed hard to avoid drooling. He almost spoiled his plan by letting his mouth run away with him, but managed to silence himself. 

“I have some painkillers. Do you want them or not?” 

It was a lie, of course, but she didn’t have to know that. It was impossible to distinguish his aphrodisiacs from pain killers, anyway. She would never be the wiser. 

She groaned and attacked him again, but it didn’t require much effort to avoid. 

He sighed loudly, dug his hand into his breast pocket, and found two pills. 

“Here. I’m trying to help you, for Christ's sake!” 

“By poisoning me? Yeah right!”

Sudden anger flared in Travis’ chest, and he couldn’t help himself when it seemed like Laura wasn’t going to comply - he grabbed her chin, forcing her mouth open and placing the two pills on her tongue, then closed her mouth. 

She tried to say something - probably more curses and filthy words - but Travis only let go when she visibly swallowed. 

“Good girl. Now, open.” 

She glared at him, but opened her mouth nonetheless, sticking out her tongue. Travis lifted it to check for the pills. No sight of them under her tongue. He looked into her mouth, checking her cheeks. No sight of them there, either. 

“Good girl.”

“What did you give me?” she asked, and for the first time since he had imprisoned her, there was fear in her voice. It made his insides warm and fuzzy. 

“Something to relieve the pain.” 

It wasn’t lying, it was... twisting the truth a bit. Just a little. Her pain would be relieved, that much was true, but she didn’t know about the side effects of getting insatiably horny and needy. And she didn’t need to - it would become apparent soon enough. That would maybe be painful in and of itself, but her period pain would be forgotten.

It made a diabolical kind of glee settle in his stomach, and he sat down next to her. She immediately put some distance between them, after having eyed the gun in his holster. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hissed.

“Don’t worry. In a minute or two, you’ll be begging me to.” 

“What? Did you hit your massive forehead against the door frame or something?” 

His eyes twitched. Just another insult. Just another piece of verbal abuse thrown his way. He was used to that. His family hadn’t exactly been kind to him, his ma least of all. 

He was secretly grateful that she had eliminated them. However... family was important. 

Instead of answering, he simply folded his hands in his lap and looked at her, lips pursed slightly. 

Waiting. 

He knew it was wishful thinking, but it seemed like she was getting more flustered the longer his gaze lingered on her. 

“Stop looking at me like that, you creep,” she mumbled, stealing glances at him every now and again. 

“Like what?” he asked politely. 

She didn’t answer. 

Minutes passed, and he could see her skin turn more and more pink. She tugged at the front of her shirt repeatedly, as if trying to bring fresh air to her skin. Her breathing came faster. Sweat started rolling down her face. Not a lot, but enough that her skin got clammy. 

“What... what did you give me?” she asked shakily, looking at him with fear in every line of her beautiful face. Her pupils had dilated, and her cheeks were slowly turning a gorgeous shade of crimson. 

“Nothing that will last.”

“No, Travis, what did you give me?” she sounded legitimately scared, and it did nothing but fuel the fire crackling in his belly. It was also the first time she had used his first name. Admittedly, it made him throb in his pants. 

“Lay down. That will help it pass faster,” he lied, the words heavy on his tongue, and he looked hungrily at her as she obeyed him, a faint whimper ripped from her throat. He swallowed heavily again, putting a hand on her naked knee. She was wearing the same shorts and t-shirt. They could probably use a wash. 

She whimpered again as he stroked her knee and thigh. Her skin burned, but it was so soft. He was halfway tempted to crack a joke and ask her about her skincare routine, but didn’t want to ruin the mood. 

“Stop that,” she growled, but the growl was weak, and the glare she sent him was mixed with fear. She was a clever girl - she knew what he had done, and what he would do. 

“This the only way you can get laid? Drugging your victim?” she tried to bite, but her voice had grown even weaker. 

When Travis felt safe in assuming that she wouldn’t attack him again, he effortlessly moved her so that her legs hung over the edge of the bed, and her upper body rested on the uncomfortable mattress. She didn’t protest, aside from a feeble groan. 

With trembling hands, Travis pulled down her shorts and underwear. The smell of iron hit his nostrils, and he checked - there was indeed a little bit of blood in her underwear. It made his cock throb, and he let out a long, quiet moan as he pressed his palm against his erection. 

He had to wait. Just a little longer...

Her skin was so soft... he was mesmerized by the feel of it under his calloused fingers, and he spent a - perhaps - unreasonable amount of time just touching her legs and hips, until the animal within him won over common sense, won over the urge to make her feel good. This was supposed to be punishment. It wasn’t meant for her to feel good. It would simply be... beneficial to the mission. 

He stood up to pull off and step out of his pants, then slid between her legs, spreading them so that he could see her in all her glory. 

“Please, don’t do this, Travis,” she begged shakily. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have stopped him if her limbs didn’t feel like lead. 

Shame. 

He didn’t reply, but instead stroked a finger between her folds - they were slick, but not enough. He didn’t want her to hurt too much. 

Travis put his face against her pussy and began licking. Above him, Laura gasped loudly, and she writhed on the bed, enough that he eventually had to pin her down by the hips.

“Please, don’t,” she whimpered, even as she got wetter and wetter, which, in turn, made Travis’ cock throb and jerk between his thighs. 

“I don’t want this!” she tried. 

“Sure,” he grinned, fondling her clit with his tongue and making her break out into a light sob. The sound went straight to his cock, and he groaned against her, sucking lightly on the slick bud until Laura looked like she was about to reach a - very much not wanted - orgasm. 

“Can’t have you coming just yet,” he panted and pulled back. 

“Travis, please, stop! Don’t do it!”

Travis didn’t listen - he simply pushed her legs to her chest, lined up his throbbing cock with her entrance, and pushed inside. 

Her pussy was tight and wonderfully wet, and sheathing himself in her made him moan loudly, leaning his head back in pleasure. 

Then he looked down at her - her wide, fearful, gorgeous blue eyes eyes that were starting to fog over with arousal, her lips that parted so that she could whine and plead and beg, her heated skin with the beads of sweat. 

She looked delicious. Delectable, even. 

Laura cried out, and pitifully tried to push him away, but the drugs had taken a firm hold of her, rendering her weak and helpless. Her only defense was to try and appeal to Travis’ good side. 

Shame that he didn’t have one. Not right now, at least. Not when it came to her. 

“Please, this is not like you,” she whimpered, lifting her hands to try and claw at his chest. She barely left a scratch. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” he rumbled, pulling out of her, only to plunge deep inside her once more, and then began fucking her in earnest. 

“I know you don’t want this,” she tried feebly. 

“Yeah? My cock begs to differ.” 

As if to punctuate his point, he thrust hard into her, making her whimper loudly and throw her head back. 

“I know you’re better than this, Travis, please!”

“Shut up, girl. You’re starting to get on my nerves,” he growled, his hands tightening on the back of her knees as he pressed her legs further towards her chest, practically bending her in half. Laura cried out and shook her head violently. She was crying. 

“Let me go, Travis, please, let me go, I won’t even tell anyone! It’ll be our little secret!”

“Damn right it will,” he growled and put a hand on her mouth to silence her.

She screamed behind his hand, but it was a weak and muffled sound that couldn’t attract the attention of anyone, not even if they were in the next room. 

He thrust ruthlessly into her, delighting himself on her sobs and whimpers. 

He had never considered himself an evil person. He had never thought he would ever do... this. But this girl - Laura Kearney - had taken his family from him just like that, without blinking an eye. She was going to pay. She was going to give him a new family. 

“You killed my family,” he snarled, inches away from her face, “so now, you’re going to make me a new one.” 

#text #mypost #the quarry fanfic #the quarry #travis hackett #laura kearney #travisxlaura #nsft #uhhhh not tagging with the tags #theyre in the warning section #anyway.... enjoy........?

[suchastrangemess]

Meet Cute (wait, what the fuck do you mean it wasn’t?): Chapter 2

  Slow calm breathing

 The feeling of warm skin hugging me

 Slender fingers resting on my thighs

 Kisses being peppered on the back of my neck

 I turn around to kiss those soft lips

I wake up, cleaning the drool of my face. <I thought that only guys had to deal with this shit> I snuggle closer into the bed cover. I turn my pillow to the other side and prepare to sleep some more.

Someone knocks on my door. Should I… No, I prefer sleeping.

“Are you awake?” great, is my mother.

<At least I don’t have to think who that person in my dream was> I ignore her, closing my eyes.

I hear the door opening. Why am I not fucking surprised? She sits down on the end of my bed. I try my best to pretend to be asleep.

My mother sits close enough to lightly stroke my hair.

“Y/N, I know you are awake”

I audibly groan and lift my head out of the pillow.

“You have been doing this since you were 3” she ruffles my hair again. “After a while is a little bit predictable”

<I really have to find other methods to be left alone> I sit a little straighter.

“So… Why did you wake me up?” I know exactly why she is doing this, but in a situation like this; you just have to save some time.

“Because yesterday you cried and then you left” I can see the fury in her eyes as she speaks. “Without us knowing where you were”

“Mom, I…”

“AND not only that, but you returned at dinner, barely telling us anything”

The first out of many arguments that will happen in my new bedroom. Well, sooner or later it was meant to happen.

And oh, look at that! We just broke our record of how fast a fight can start between us.

“I explained you everything yesterday”

“You didn’t explain to me why you were crying”

In arguments with her, there is this weird moment when we both make eye contact and we can see into each other eyes, a painful fact that we know all too well: when this fight ends, is going to hurt for the both of us.

“Because you took everything that I have ever known away from me”

The eye contact is the worst part of all this, second to my mother’s ability to shatter my heart into a million pieces.

“Going to seedy bars, wasting away your musical talent and Nya: that’s everything that I took away from you?” she stands up. “That isn’t much”

I feel the burning sensation in my eyes, trying to calm myself down by controlling my breathing. How the fuck can she make me cry when I just woke up?

“It was everything to me” I see her blank stare.

“You can do better than that”

I instantly stand up.

“I don’t fricking care if I can or can’t do better than that” I lean closer to her. “And let me tell you something about Nya: she has always been there for me, unlike the both of you”

She leaves and slams the door shut.

<I win this fight> I think to myself, smiling through tears.

I continue crying while changing out of my pajamas. Not the first time, and definitely not the last.

I take a deep breath, clean my tears and leave my room to go to the bathroom.

After finishing with everything, I leave and head to the kitchen.

I stop, just before I enter. I hear my dad and my mother talking about me.

“I think that it was a bad idea to do all this” that’s my dad’s voice.

“Do you prefer that she hangs out with a drug addict instead” I roll my eyes at her comment.

She only heard rumors about Nya smoking weed ONCE, but I don’t think she cares about that.

“Wherever you want to admit or not, Y/N is right: Nya can understand her better than any of us”

I’m way too hungry and tired to listen to this shit. I enter and grab some orange juice.

They instantly fall silent as I calmly make myself an egg sandwich.

“Morning, honey” he says awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“Good morning to both of you” I meet my mother’s gaze with a cynical smile.

Don’t laugh. Don’t fucking laugh. She is going to murder you.

“Were you talking about something?” life is too short to not bother your overbearing mother. “I could hear it from the bathroom”

My mother slowly drinks her coffee, while giving her killer gaze. Everything that is used in excess loses its touch after a while. She should know that by now.

We eat breakfast in silence. I was enjoying the quiet of everything, until I see that someone has send me a text. Is Hunter:

(Hunter)

 Hey

 When do you wanna jam?

                                                                                   (You)

                                                                                   Hi

                                                                                  As soon as possible

 Why so excited to see me?

                                                                                 You wish

                                                                                I had a fight with my mother

                                                                                I want to get out of here

 Oh shit

 You can come now

 If you want

                                                                                  Just one thing

                                                                                  Whats your address?

My mother fake coughs.

“No phones while we are in family, Y/N”

Right, the no cellphone rule. Forgot about that one.

“Don’t worry about the dishes, dad” I get up from the chair, picking up the plates. “I’m going to do them this time”

Not gonna lie, I love doing the dishes. I put music and I just focus on cleaning and drying them. What’s not to like about that?

I start the whole washing and drying. But a little thing comes to my mind.

Oh fuck. I can’t believe it. Nya was right:

“You would be the perfect 50s housewife, taking away 90% of your personality”

I hate it when she is right. The little shit.

“Y/N, I can hear your hellish music from my room!”

Luckily for me, I already finished. I turn off the music, grab everything that I need and leave this hellish house.

I check my phone, walking away. Hunter sent me his house address.

<Is not that far away. Like, 20 minutes by foot> I can deal with that. I have dealt with worse.

I take a deep breath, as I stand outside Hunter’s house.

I need to remember three basic rules:

1-Make eye contact, but not enough to freak him out.

2-If he asks you about what you like to do in your free time: DON’T SAY D&D. You are going to talk for hours about it, and he is going to think that you are weird.

3-THINK TWICE BEFORE MAKING ANY JOKE

Yeah, I think that’s all.

I ring the doorbell and wait for someone (hopefully Hunter) to let me in.

I don’t wait for too long, before a man in his 50s opens the door.

“Hi, honey. Sorry, but I’m in a real hurry right now. So, I can’t give you money for the...”

I cut him off.

“I’m Y/N L/N and I’m one of Hunter’s friends”

He stays quiet for a moment.

“You are a new one, right?”

I nod. I fucking hate small talk.

“So… Hunter called me to hang out…” how do I tell him this guy in a polite way to let me in? “Don’t worry about us, we are just going to be in the basement playing music”

He steps out of the way to let me in.

“I’m Dr James Sylvester and I’m Hunter’s dad” I enter as he introduces himself. “But you can call me Jim”

I can hear from below the riff of “The Call of Ktulu” …stopping out of nowhere?

“Did someone knock on the door?”

“Yes, your friend is here”

I’m about to go make my way down, when I see Hunter going up the stairs as fast as he can.

“Oh, he opened the door for you…”

Jim chuckles.

“Why the rush to come up, Hunter?”

“Uhm…Well… I just wanted to be a good host to my guest”

“I think that you should know better before going up the stairs as fast as you did���

I space out as they argue right in front of me.

“Y/N, let’s go” I return to reality when Hunter says my name.

We go to the basement, and I make a beeline to a backless black seat. The one that Emily was sitting the last time I was here.

“You can just grab one of the guitars hanging from the wall”

I stand there, trying to decide which one to pick: the red guitar in the form of a “V” or the black with a skull that has a pentagram in its forehead? It doesn’t really help that I suck at making decisions.

“Uhm… I’m sorry that you have to see that fight” I quickly grab the black guitar and connect it to the amp.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had worse fights with my mother” I reply.

After everything is set, I sit down… But Hunter is staring at me in silence.

“Wanna talk about that fight with your mom or….”

I interrupt his question with the riff of “Madhouse”, but I stop to ask him:

“Wanna talk about that fight with your dad or you wanna jam?”

He stays quiet.

“That’s fair”

Hunter plays the beginning of “Whiplash” and I follow his lead.

<Man, I really missed this> he grins at me, as he plays the solo.

His eyes are closed, his sleeveless T-shirt shows off his arms and his hands… No, I’m not gonna do this while playing guitar. I can mess it up and he is going to think that I’m such a fucking loser for getting it…

“Dude, you are awesome!”

“What? Oh, yeah… Right, thanks”

We stay quiet for a while. I look down, absent-mindedly playing some tunes

“Sorry for asking about your mom”

I look up to him.

“No, is ok… Sorry for asking about your dad”

He smiles at me.

“I almost forgot” Hunter tries to stand up and I quickly go to help him. “I have a gift for you”

“What did I do?” we go towards the stairs, “Have I been a good girl, Hunter?”

fuck. Fuck. FUCK. WHY THE FUCK DID I FORGOT RULE NUMBER 3?!?! WHY THE FUCK I AM A MESS?! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH, I FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING

He stops on his tracks.

“No! I mean yes. No, fuck! It was for buying the album” as he says this, I’m regretting being alive; but he continues saying. “Is in my room”

“Wait, what?”

How did I ended up in this situation? I’m not complaining that much, though.

“No! This isn’t some lame excuse to get you to my room” Hunter is blushing so hard right now, and he looks so adorable. “It doesn’t matter, just stay here and I’m going to…”

“No, I want to go with you”

He has this indescribable look on his face. Maybe he is just shocked or surprised?

“Come with me, then”

We go all the way up to his room, in a comfortable silence. Surprisingly, after everything that has happened in the past 10 minutes.

Hunter grabs my hand, and we step into the bedroom together.

“I hope you like your gift”

In the middle of the room, there is a Fender Stratocaster with a black bow.

I slowly go towards it and gently touch the strings with my fingertips.

“Y/N, the guitar doesn’t bite” he sits down on his bed.

The shock is still there, but there is a little something that draws my eye.

“You play Dungeons and Dragons?” I ask him, pointing to a half-orc barbarian miniature.

Right next to it, there are other figurines and the books from the fifth edition piled on top of each other.

“Yeah, no. Like… I used to play, but right now I’m focused on music”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I used to play with Nya, but now I don’t have a party” I grab the guitar and sit next to him.

“Really? Because if you want to play again…” Hunter gets excited, but he tones it down. “I know some dungeon masters”

I smile. Yeah, he is definitely my type.

We talk for a while about… Well, everything. First, it was D&D, then it was our music tastes; later, we were mocking each other for our music tastes. Finally, we were wrestling with one another in the bed.

I suddenly realize that I’m on his lap, grabbing his arms on top of his head.

“So… Wanna try your new guitar or stay like this?”

#my fics #hunter sylvester x reader #My posts #my post #metal lords

[redfire-blackash-whitegold]

Blessed are the Vagrant

It’s not unheard of, someone getting lost on a heist. It doesn’t even necessarily denote a heist gone wrong, though it is usually one that’s gone somewhat sideways. Someone gets injured, or separated, or temporarily caught by some non-police entity, or else they just miss their transport and have to take the long way around the cops in order to get home.

In this case it was an injury, though only a light concussion and minor head blood. Ryan woke up in a vineyard, though how he got there, he couldn’t remember. He could remember everything else, his name, his crew, he even remembered the better part of the heist. They were targeting a rich estate out just northwest of Vinewood Hills, small crew, low cops, mostly just personal security to watch out for. He remembered all that fine, just not how he ended up with a head wound out in the grapes. 

Ryan took off his jacket and mask and threw them over the fence where they wouldn’t be found immediately by seasonal workers checking on the vines. It was still spring and the vines had been recently pruned, though the leaves were starting to bud and spread out again. The farmhouse was close, on the bottom of the hill separate from the winery that looked down on it from above. Ryan brushed off the dirt on his jeans, but there was no way to really get clean under the circumstances. His head hurt, and his eyes felt blurry like he wasn’t wearing his contacts, though he knew he must be based on how dry his eyes were after having slept with them in.

It was maybe six in the morning, from what Ryan could tell. The sun had just come up and the sky was a pale, cool blue. It was slightly chilly with the morning but it was clearly on track to becoming a nice day. He knocked on the door of the farmhouse. The sound of metal clanging and the slight smell of natural gas suggested that someone was cooking inside. The noise stopped for a second and the front door opened, revealing an old woman, slightly hunched over, wearing a hand-knit sweater and a long skirt. She moved slowly but was alert, and she took in the sight in front of her quickly. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I can’t seem to get any service around here, and was wondering if I could use your phone,” Ryan said. 

“Oh my goodness!” The woman replied. “You’re bleeding! Come in, come in, we should get that looked at right away.” 

She motioned him in, and walked urgently as she could to a cupboard to retrieve a bin full of bandaids and creams. Ryan stepped in very slightly before taking a quick look around, looking for people, danger, weapons. The farmhouse was small, and ancient. It opened into the kitchen, and had an awkward layout that had a single wall separate the kitchen from the living room that was complete with the kind of old easy-chairs that you might expect to see in an older home. There didn’t seem to be any indication of anyone else living there, and no immediate danger, so he walked in to the landing and kicked off his shoes.

“You must have had quite the night,” the woman said. Ryan cringed slightly and started to speak, before she cut him off. “Uh uh uh, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever brought you here is none of my business. I’d rather not ask at all then hear some half-baked excuse.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

“Now now, none of that ‘ma’am’ business, I know I’m old. Call me Gran, it’s what the kids at the wineshop call me,” Said Gran. “Come, sit here, make yourself comfortable, let me take a look at your forehead.”

She tended to his wound and Ryan, somewhat out of it from the concussion, let her. She had been getting ready to cook pancakes on the stove when he arrived, and so and offered him some, which he hungrily accepted. Gran also offered him a shower, which Ryan was much more hesitant to accept. 

“Oh, of course, that must be strange, taking a shower in some stranger’s home. You really should get cleaned up though, I’ll give you a washcloth and I’ll throw your clothes into the wash. You should fit into my husband’s old clothes, rest his soul, and then I can give you a drive back into the city when they’re ready.” Gran explained that she didn’t have a landline or a phone of her own, and the winery was closed and locked for the day. “I haven’t had a key to that place since that big corporation bought us out and did all these renovations a few years back. They kept me on as an official owner, but it’s just a figurehead position.”

“It must be tough to not have a part in it anymore,” Ryan said.

“It is, it is, but they are paying me well enough, so I can live out my retirement in comfort. It gives me more time for my hobbies.”

In exchange for the pancakes, Gran put Ryan to work around the house. She said that one of the neighbours liked to check in on her that normally helped out, but it had been a few days and some work needed to be done. She had Ryan doing some cleaning, mostly dusting the lights and ceiling fans as well as the baseboards, places up high and low that were difficult for her with her low mobility. She had him gardening as well, weeding her front garden bed, which was slightly overgrown but still well cared for, and chopping down a few branches off of trees that hung over her gravel driveway so that cars wouldn’t drive into them. The compost pile was out behind the house and a ways away, and along the way were a few grape vines growing wildly along a freestanding wire fence. These plants were further along than the ones in the vineyard; the vines that had been pruned away were almost completely grown back, and they hung down far enough that they almost touched the ground. There was a slight smell of rotting, and the ground was dark and soft from where fresh compost had recently been added on top of the roots. 

Ryan spent a few minutes tucking the long vines into the fence so that they looked less wild. It was pretty different from the kind of work he was used to. Cleaning, sure, he had been cleaning things his entire life, from vacuuming the penthouse to cleaning up crime scenes, he was familiar with being thorough. But gardening, or farming, that was new. It was a nice feeling, nurturing something that was alive, being outside in the fresh air away from the city noise. 

“You did a lovely job there, and I didn’t even ask you to do it,” Gran appeared behind him. “You didn’t rip a single leaf.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, in the long run.” 

“No, I suppose not.” Gran said. “In any case, it’s time for lunch. I’ve made tea and sandwiches.”

Ryan sat down at the breakfast nook, and Gran put out a large serving plate with a number of sandwiches cut into neat triangles onto the table for them to take from, along with two mugs of black tea and some plates. 

“This looks great thanks,” Ryan said and took a sip of his tea. “I’d be happy to clean the dishes afterwords.”

“Thank you dear, I think I’ll manage on my own. You worry about lunch.”

The two ate mostly in silence, far more interested in the food than the conversation. Ryan was normally a fast eater, but he started to slow down as time went on. His movements in general were slower and slower, and his eyes became less focused, far worse than what the concussion did to him. He tried to stand up, but ended up on the floor instead. 

“Well, it’s about time now isn’t it?” Gran said. “Dreadfully sorry about this dear, but at my age, I just can’t afford to pick up someone from the city. At least I doubt anyone will miss you.”

“What did you do to me?”

“Just a little poison in the tea, not enough to kill you just yet. I just so rarely get to do this anymore, I’ve found myself spending more and more time with my guests lately.”

“You sound like you’re talking about bridge night, not serial murder,” Ryan said. He smiled, almost proud. “Forgive me if this sounds rude, but how are you moving the bodies around? You don’t seem like you could do it on your own.”

“My dear husband used to help me with these things, but he introduced me to a friend of his before he died that helps me from time to time.”

“Ah, I thought as much,” Ryan said, and neatly stood up. Gran gasped in surprise. “I should get going quickly then, before he gets here. I’m in no condition for a fight.”

“How is it not affecting you?” Gran moved her chair back from the table, but didn’t stand up.

“The poison wasn’t in the tea, it was in the sandwiches. You might have risked a nervous visitor like me not drinking strange liquids, but the sandwich pile would have been seen as safe to eat, since you were eating from the same pile,” Ryan said. “If you had only poisoned some, you would have risked me eating the wrong ones, as well as forgetting which were safe for yourself. The better bet is to just poison them all and take the antitoxin while I was still out in the yard. So I just took the antitoxin myself while I was dusting the bathroom.”

“How did you know?”

“Well I couldn’t find the antitoxin for the longest time, until I stumbled across your medicine cabinet,” Ryan said. “Pill bottles are a great way to hide something like that, and it would be easy for you to remember that way. Take this pill before bed, this pill before dinner, this pill before killing. I wasn’t completely sure which was the antitoxin, so I just took one of everything. I’m prooobably going to have an interesting night tonight. Oh, and then I switched around all the pill bottles so all your drugs are labeled wrong. In other words, chances are decent that you just took some kind of heart medication instead of the anti.” Sure enough, Gran was looking pale and was moving slow.

“Oh, sorry, did you mean how did I know that I was in danger?” Ryan continued, starting to enjoy it more. “You have spots of old blood inbetween your floorboards, you adapted way too quickly to a large man covered in blood at your door, and my cellphone had service not a ten minute walk from here last night. Probably the most damning, of course was your compost pile, though I wouldn’t have had enough time to notice before lunch if that’s all I was going off of. I know the smell of rotting human, and it’s different from the smell of rotting leaves. Dreadfully sorry Gran, but you made just one mistake. I’m not just some vagrant like the ones you and your husband used to pick up. You don’t have a TV or computer so you probably wouldn’t know. 

“I’m THE vagrant. The Vagabond”

#fahc #fake ah crew #fahc ryan

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Do Androids Enjoy Paris? (An Ash x Reader Insert Fic, Rated T)

It’s decades later when you find him. He’s in surprisingly good shape for being almost 50 years old. When you run a diagnostics check on him days later, you’re almost touched to see how well he was taken care of. Yearly upgrades and tune-ups, expanded memory chip, barely any wear or tear on the joints or internal wiring. He could be a museum piece, he was so well kept. And now he was yours.

So what does one do when they’re suddenly gifted with an android copy of an unknown dead man?

Take him to see the world.

When you bought the house from Kate’s mom, you didn’t really understand what the Ash Clause referred to. According to the contract, you just had to maintain the Ash model for the length of ownership. When you asked your friend what Ash was, she chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh wow, I haven’t thought about him in years. He’s like this weird robot my grandma had. I think I saw him once. He was kind of like a memory bank, I think he would do some cleaning.” She said and you shrugged. You could take care of a sentient vacuum.

But when you finally get to the little house, you don’t see any robot. You find a vacuum, covered in dust, but very little else. It isn’t until your third night that you meet Ash.

You’re in bed, trying to fall asleep. You’re not used to the countryside and you had been staring at your phone right before trying to sleep, which you know is bad. You’re in that hazy almost dreaming phase when you hear a thud from above. You freeze in your bed, suddenly terrified that a monster is going to come crashing through the roof and eat you.

Instead, you hear the sound of a chair being pushed across the floor above you. There’s nothing above you but the roof, you’re on the second floor. The house is just two floors and an attic. Your stomach drops and you let out a shaky breath. There’s someone in the attic.

Grabbing your phone and a frying pan from the kitchen, you carefully pull down the steps to the attic. All the noise stops and you preemptively dial 999 in case there’s a murderer up there and you need to call the police. Your finger hovers over the button as light floods down over you.

The attic is small but decorated with furniture. There’s a plush rug under your toes and a nice coffee table with soft squishy looking chairs around it. There’s a computer plugged in and a rack of clothes. Does someone live up here? Did Kate forget to tell you about a renter?

You hear a throat clear and you whirl around, holding your frying pan out like a weapon. The person you see isn’t scary, he isn’t holding a gun or anything, but you still scream in surprise.

“No please, don’t scream. I’m not dangerous I promise!” He assures you, stepping forward as you leap back. You fall into one of the armchairs and it knocks the breath out of you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m Ash. Didn’t Kate or Indira tell you about me? I know you bought the house.” He says, kneeling in front of you to perhaps seem less threatening. It worked a little and you slowly felt your heart return to a normal rhythm.

“They just told me I had to maintain an Ash model. I was expecting a cleaning robot, not a person!” You shoot back, once you find your voice. You haven’t lowered your frying pan. At that, Ash ducks his head bashfully. He doesn’t flush or turn red though, like a person would. He also hasn’t blinked since you noticed him.

“That’s me. I’m the Ash model. I’m an android technically though. This is where I stay.” He says with a note of resigned acceptance, sweeping his arm out over his humble abode. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why are you up here? Why do I have to take care of you? You look kind of familiar, have we met before?” You ask, ignoring his identity for a moment, as he sits down on the couch across from you. Despite it being 2 in the morning, he dressed like he’s going to work. He’s wearing dark slacks with a blue button down shirt; he’s even got shoes on!

“It’s a bit of a long story.” Ash says and he explains it all to you. As the time passes, you listen as Ash reveals family secret after family secret. You find yourself staring at the pulled skin of Ash’s knuckles or the way the light shines across his multi-shaded hair. He’s a feat of engineering, that was for sure. Androids weren’t super rare in society, though they were uncommon. Androids took the place of people when it involved inhospitable environments or testing reactions to new drugs. Androids couldn’t feel pain but they could mimic the human body’s reaction. They were essential in the field of science and medicine. Which made it all the stranger that Kate’s grandma just had one.

It’s a sad story to be sure. Losing a loved one is never easy and grief can make people do crazy things. Now you know why Ash’s face looks vaguely familiar to you. You’ve seen his face in an old wedding photo of Kate’s grandparents. But then the passage of time actually sinks in. Kate, like you, is in her late 20s. Martha was her grandma! Ash has been up here for decades, sitting alone and getting sent to a facility once a year for upgrades. Martha’s been dead for 5 years now and the house has been empty. Kate mentioned that she hadn’t seen Ash since she was a little kid. 

“So you’ve just been alone for all this time? Hasn’t anyone visited you?” You ask, incredulously. Mrs. Portman was his daughter! Well, sort of, not really.

“Yes. Indira comes to visit sometimes, usually when I have to get upgraded. We talk and she has tea and it’s very nice. But other than that, no. She stopped seeing me on weekends when she left for school. I assumed she was busy living her own life. After that Martha stopped coming up as well. I think it bothered her that she was aging and I wasn’t. I never minded though, I don’t care about that sort of thing. Do you want tea?” The change of subject does little to distract you. All you can think of is the clause in your lease contract. 

“You realize that I own the house now, I bought it from Mrs. Portman. You were part of the contract I signed. I’m supposed to take care of you. I own you. Doesn’t that bother you? You’re being passed down like a family heirloom!” You point out, shaking your head as Ash offers you tea. You don’t think he can drink it and it seems rude to use up his supply. 

“Why should it? Martha wanted to take care of me. I have a nice life up here. I have the internet and I get to see people sometimes. There’s not much I need.” He says simply and your heart breaks for him. 

“But Martha’s dead! She’s dead and you’re still here! Don’t you see how cruel that is? She’s allowed to die and be at peace and, depending on your belief system, finally be with her Ash. But instead of shutting you down, she’s kept you running. There’s no reason. It’s not like Mrs. Portman has really interacted with you in years. So why are you still running? Don’t you deserve some peace?”

Ash pauses and looks at you. It’s strange, but he seems almost sad. AI technology has come a long way, but his ability to mimic sadness is honestly amazing.

“Martha’s dead?” His voice sounds hollow and you get up and join him on the couch. 

“Yes, she died five years ago. You weren’t told?” You reach over and grab his hand. It’s cool to the touch but very soft. It feels like skin, though you know it’s synthetic. He feels human.

“No, I wasn’t told. I always assumed that when she died, I’d either go live with Indira or I’d be shut down. I didn’t think she’d keep me running with no purpose.” He sighs and his chest doesn’t move.

“Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. Maybe she thought Indira would want you in her life. I don’t know. But what I do know is that we’re here and we’re together now. I signed that contract and I’m going to take care of you. But you get to decide what that means. If you want to stay up here and be left alone, I can do that. But if you want to be shut down, I understand and I can do that too.” You promise and he looks at you. His eyes are beautiful and wet, hazy blue and light green mixed together and piercing into your soul. You’re in awe of how his eyes bore into you.

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve been up here so long. I was only made for a few things. I don’t have wants or needs besides basic maintenance.” He says shakily.

“Well, now’s the time to figure it out.” You whisper in the quiet of the attic. The smile he gives you is blinding in it’s sincerity and joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You go to Paris first, walking along the Seine in the summer. You show Ash all the artwork he’s only ever seen through a screen, watch him embrace the human condition as he marvels at a Monet and shakes his head at a Picasso. He doesn’t tan like you do but after giving a little boy back his ball by the Carrousel du Louvre, he has a riot of freckles across his shoulders that match the toddler’s. 

He does that a lot; change his appearance as he meets people. He has a mole on his clavicle that disappears occasionally. He can’t seem to decide if he wants it or not. You don’t care either way, you tell him he’s beautiful at least once an hour. He responds back in kind and while someone else would take that as a lie; he’s an android so what could he know about human beauty, you beam at the words. You figure he’s probably objective so the small words are taken as the compliment they’re intended to be.

The only weird parts are when you need to eat and sleep. It’s strange at first to go to a cafe and eat in front of him. He always tastes things but he never swallows, politely spitting it out in his napkin. He doesn’t have taste buds, he can’t enjoy the bouquet of flavors you bring to his lips every breakfast, lunch, or dinner; but despite that he always asks to try. You can see how desperately he wants to be human so you humor him and let him try your crepes.

He doesn’t sleep, though he will lay down in bed with you. He makes no sounds and only mimics breathing to keep you from feeling uncomfortable. Eventually you ask him to stop. You’ve always hated noise when you’re trying to sleep and it’s nice to be held by something that doesn’t snore in your ear or drool on you.

“I can if you want me to.” Ash teases one morning and you throw a pillow at him. His laugh sounds like triumph.

You’re walking along the Pont des Arts, Notre Dame in the distance and vanilla ice cream in your hand.  The stroll is leisurely and even, Ash swinging your hands as you tread across the wooden boards. You’re going to Italy next and then maybe Spain. He’s decided he wants to see the world and you’re only too happy to show him.

He stops and rests his arm on the railing, the wind ruffling his hair back. You lay your head on his shoulder which is warm through his linen shirt.

“Would you want to have sex?” He asks suddenly and you almost drop your ice cream in the river. You pull back to look at him, your face pink.

“I just know that when couples travel together they usually have sex. I can have sex, I have the equipment for it. I’ve done it before.” He says and his tone is so casual and even. In perhaps an ironic twist, you’re the one who feels like they’re short circuiting. You eat some ice cream while you try to come up with an answer.

“Ash, I think you’re so handsome and I love the time we spend together. I enjoy sleeping next to you in bed and holding your hand. But sex isn’t the same as that. Kissing isn’t the same as that. I would love to kiss you and have sex and make this relationship more physical but I want that for the right reasons. I want to have sex with you because you want to, not because you think we should. Not because studies show couples have sex on holiday or because you did it before.” You counter, squeezing his hands.

“It’s hard for me to want things. I don’t think the way you do.” He reminds you. You give him a soft smile and step back to throw away your ice cream. Your hand is cold against his cheek but he doesn’t react. Not the way a human would.

“I know Ash and that’s okay. I don’t mind if our relationship never turns physical, if it doesn’t look like other relationships. I enjoy spending time with you and I care about you. It’s okay to not want something.” You assure him but instead of looking relieved, he looks angry.

“But I should! I want to want things the way you do, the way normal people do! I watch everyone go through life, experiencing the world and they feel things. I don’t feel things and it’s not fair!” He yells. People walking by look at you but you don’t pay them any attention.

“But you do feel things, I know you do. You don’t like the BeeGees. You prefer wearing blue over any other color. When we went to the museum, you said you liked Monet over Manet. Those are opinions, those are feelings. Sure, they might not work the same way mine do, but human beings are all so different. We all see the world in different ways and I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks the way you do. You may not be able to eat the food you try, but you still want to try it. That’s feelings.” You say before leaning forward and kissing him softly. 

His lips are soft and dry and if you close your eyes, which you do, it’s like kissing a real person. You pull back and notice his eyes are closed as well. Your heart thumps against your ribcage.

“I don’t need to kiss or have sex to function properly. But that was nice. It was soft and it made you happy. Seeing you happy makes me happy. I know that sex is something couples do to show their affection and I want to do that for you. I want to make you happy in that way. I want to kiss you and have sex and be like a normal couple.” He says definitely, pulling you into a hug. He’s very good at hugs but you make a mental note to have him look up asexuality when this is done. It’s not a perfect comparison but it might help him feel better.

“Okay Ash, when we get back to the hotel, we’ll have sex. But until then, let’s just explore. Want to see Notre Dame today?” You agree, your hand sliding down his forearm to mesh between his fingers. This time he leans down and kisses you. It’s still a little stiff but you’ll teach him. He wants to learn. Pulling away, continue your walk down the bridge and onto the street. 

“Yes, I would like that.” He smiles, and you fall in love.

Tagging @babbushka because she asked so nicely lol.

#be right back #do androids enjoy paris #black mirror #self insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #ash starmer #ash starmer x reader #ash x reader #this is just a weird oneshot that wouldn't leave me alone #i just think the idea of ash staying in that attic is so sad #he deserves to see the world #domhnall gleeson #black mirror fanfiction #not beta'd #this is obscure and i dont think anyone will read it #but i wanted to put it out #my writing

[pocket-luv101]

Whispered Promises || Part 1

Fandom: Servamp Ship: KuroMahi Characters: Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: After Mahiru witnesses a major crime, he is targeted by the mafia. Kuro becomes his bodyguard to keep him safe. (KuroMahi, Bodyguard AU)

(Part 1) || Part 2 || Part 3

“I’ll be at the station in ten minutes and then we can walk to the pub. Don’t you dare buy hotdogs for dinner though. That’s barely a meal and you won’t have energy for tomorrow.” Mahiru laughed with his friend over the phone. Kuro’s shift ended late but he called him to ask if he wanted to have a late dinner with him. “You still have unhealthy tastes from when we were kids.”

Since Kuro was a detective, he was busy most days. It was difficult to make time for each other but their friendship was worth the effort. Mahiru decided to go to the station and walk Kuro to the restaurant rather than meeting him there. He thought it would be a good opportunity to spend more time together. Even though they could talk over the phone, he preferred to speak with him in person. He pictured the subtle smile Kuro would make and grinned to himself.

A gleam of light caught his attention and it made him to pause. He assumed that the light was caused by moonlight reflecting off glass. Mahiru looked in the direction of the light and noticed a car sitting idle in an alleyway. His eyes narrowed when he saw that the car didn’t have a license plate. Kuro’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Mahiru, did something happen? You suddenly went quiet.”

“Kuro, what reason would a person have to remove the license plate from their car? I’m not a cop but I assume it’s not good.” Mahiru told him in quiet whisper. He hesitantly crossed the street to the alley. The light he saw earlier meant that there could be someone in the car. “The car is parked next to the beer store on the corner of Fleet Street. I’ll stop people from entering the alley if it’s something dangerous.”

“You shouldn’t go near that car either, Mahiru! Just wait in the beer store for me to get there. The police station isn’t far from where you are so I’ll be in ten minutes. Just stay somewhere safe.” Kuro pleaded but he knew Mahiru wasn’t the type to ignore people in danger.

“It might be nothing and I’m just being paranoid. I’ll keep my phone on so you’ll hear if anything happens.” He told him and crept into the alley way. He kept a tight grip on his phone to calm his nerves. Mahiru was a normal civilian and he had never been in a dangerous situation before. He didn’t know what he might see but there was a possibility that someone innocent was hiding or in danger. The least he could do was give the police as much information he could when they arrive.

He peered into the car but he couldn’t see anything inside. Mahiru started to walk around the car until he heard voices nearby. He instinctively covered his mouth to not make a noise and he crouched beside the car. The alley was dark yet he could make out two people a few feet in front of him. His heart stopped when he saw that one of them had a gun.

“You missed this month’s payment. I thought we had an agreement. We protect your store and you push some drugs for us. You haven’t been selling your share and we’re starting to think you’re skimming us. You should know better than to cross us.” The man said. The other person stumbled over an answer but it was clear that any explanation was pointless.

A gunshot echoed throughout the alley and Mahiru couldn’t stop himself letting out a sharp gasp. He turned around to run but, in his panic, he tripped. He grabbed the car door to stop his fall. The car alarm blared to life and his heart stopped. The car’s headlights flashed and the light allowed Mahiru to see the shooter. Their eyes met and fear made his legs stiff even as his mind was screaming for him to run.

The moment the man point his gun at him, Mahiru was pulled backwards. His surroundings became a blur and he wasn’t able to make any sense of what happened next. Mahiru felt himself being dragged away with the sound of gunshots following them. He wasn’t hurt when someone took him behind a dumpster and blanketed him in warmth.

“Hyde, the shooter is escaping on foot. He’s heading south down Fleet Street.” Kuro shouted the orders to his brother. His voice brought Mahiru out of his daze and he looked up at him. He wanted to thank him for saving him but his voice wouldn’t come out. His body shook but he regained enough control of his hands to grip Kuro’s shirt. “Lily, take care of Mahiru and I’ll go after the shooter.”

When he would’ve left, Mahiru stopped him. He let go of his shirt so he could throw himself into his strong chest. Mahiru wrapped his arms around him and clung onto him. Kuro couldn’t leave after he saw how pale he was. He tenderly stroked his brown hair to comfort him. “You’re safe, Mahiru. It’s okay.”

“Please, don’t leave me.” He whispered.

“I won’t. JeJe, can you take charge while I get Mahiru somewhere safe?” He asked his brother who nodded. Kuro wrapped his arm around Mahiru’s waist as they stood. He pressed himself close to his side as they walked out of the alley. Mahiru sat on the curb and he glanced around them worriedly. His eyes fell back to his clenched hands on his lap.

The danger had already passed but Mahiru was still struggling to absorb what happened. His hands trembled until Kuro wrapped them in a reassuring warmth. The simple gesture made him feel safe. He found his voice again and asked: “Will that man be okay? Oh God, I couldn’t do anything and I just stood there. If you hadn’t come… Why can’t I stop shaking?”

“It’s the adrenaline. Take deep breaths and count with me, Mahiru. That will help you calm down and return your heartbeat to normal.” Kuro took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. While it was a warm summer night, Mahiru found himself pulling the jacket tighter around his body. The lingering warmth from Kuro’s body clung to the fabric and he took comfort in that. After a few breaths, colour returned to his cheeks and Kuro was relieved to see him relax.

Kuro wasn’t the best with words so he wasn’t comfortable speaking with the victims and witnesses. He would usually have Lily speak with them. Mahiru was different though. They had been friends since they were children and he would do anything to help him. He wished he had arrived sooner or convinced him not to enter the alley. He pushed his own guilt aside to focus on Mahiru.

Slowly, he brushed his bangs from his brown eyes. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Now that you’re here.” Mahiru managed to give him a small smile. “Thank you, Kuro.”

“If you’re ready, we need to go to the station and take your statement.” JeJe’s voice came between them. Even as Mahiru nodded, he didn’t want to let go of Kuro’s hands. He must’ve read his thoughts for he adjusted their fingers to thread together.

“We’ll go together. I won’t let go of your hand until you feel safe.” Kuro vowed. “I’ll protect you, Mahiru.”

After they returned to the police station, Mahiru made a statement and worked with a police sketch artist. They weren’t able to leave until well past midnight. Mahiru asked Kuro to stay the night since he wasn’t comfortable being alone. The shooter had escaped and officers were currently searching for him with the sketch the artist made.

The sun had barely risen when Kuro woke. He walked into the kitchen but he didn’t find Mahiru cooking like he usually would. It was rare that he woke up before him but the previous night had been stressful. He thought of all the times Mahiru would cook for him after a difficult investigation. Kuro wanted do the same for him and make him smile again. He decided to cook breakfast for Mahiru and rummaged through his fridge for food. Kuro would often sleep over at his house so he was able to easily find everything.

His phone rang and Kuro answered it as he heated water. His brother’s name flashed on the screen and he knew the reason he called him so early was likely related to the case. “Hey, JeJe. Has there been an update on the shooter? It’s only been a few hours so I didn’t expect for someone to identify him so soon.”

“I sent the sketch to Mikuni and he recognized the man.” JeJe told him. A rock dropped in Kuro’s stomach. Mikuni was working undercover with that mafia group, Karasu. His brother would only contact Mikuni if he thought the two cases were related. “The shooter is one of Karasu’s favourite messengers, Watanuki. Captain has already ordered us to bring the guy in. I thought I should tell you so you can prepare Mahiru. His testimony is the best chance we have to take them down.”

“Shit.” Kuro cursed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. For the past month, they had been slowly building a case against the mafia group but their Captain was impatient to arrest them. Karasu would murder witnesses so gathering evidence for a trial was difficult. “Mahiru said the shooter saw him so the mafia will go after him. Can we protect him? Did the prosecutor say anything about the trial date?”

“Misono won’t have a date until we arrest Watanuki. Even if we arrest him today, the trial will likely be weeks from now. You know how backed up the system is.” JeJe said and caused Kuro to sigh heavily. He wished that things were as easy as the movies. “I can ask the Captain for Mahiru to be put in witness protection but that’s not in the budget. The best we can do is have a cop drive by his house hourly.”

“Karasu has killed five witnesses already and I don’t want Mahiru to be their next target.” Kuro’s grip tightened around his phone. He knew that his brother wasn’t able to do much either. The frightened expression Mahiru had the previous night made Kuro want to protect him. “There must be something we can do.”

“If you’re worried about Mahiru, you should be the one to protect him like a bodyguard. Hyde suggested the idea. You have a lot of paid vacation days saved up and we’ll take care of your cases. Mahiru’s our friend and we don’t want him to be hurt.” JeJe said. “Kuro, we know Mahiru is important to you so it’s okay. We just need to talk to Captain about it. Hyde is already doing that.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to Mahiru about the situation and ask him what he wants to do.” Kuro said and ended the call. He heard the door open behind him and he turned around to see Mahiru step out of the room. He didn’t know if he had overheard their conversation but said: “That was JeJe. We can talk about his call after we eat. I wanted to make you breakfast but I got distracted. It should be ready soon though. There’s orange juice.”

“Thank you, Kuro.” He said and took the cup from him. Mahiru leaned against the counter and watched Kuro pour noodles into a pot. Usually, he would lecture Kuro for heating up processed food but he knew the breakfast was a thoughtful gesture. He tasted a spoonful of the broth and said, “It’s good. I must be a lucky man to have your special instant noodles.”

“Did you sleep well?” Kuro didn’t know how he would tell Mahiru about the mafia group. He was a normal civilian and the situation could frighten him. He never wanted to see Mahiru scared again.

“I overheard your call with JeJe about the mafia group targeting witnesses.” His words made Kuro’s eyes widen. He looked into his brown eyes but they weren’t fearful like they were last night. Mahiru set down his cup and said: “Honestly, I was terrified when I heard you say that. I read about Karasu in the papers. But, if I can help you stop them by testifying, I won’t run away.”

“You must be more courageous and reckless than most of the police force. The only one crazier than you would be Licht but that’s a high bar.” Kuro joked and stroked his brown hair. At first, he only meant to smooth his hair back into place but he found his hands lingering. He didn’t want to let go of him. “I’ll protect you, Mahiru. JeJe and I are working on ways to keep you safe.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone be my bodyguard but my best friend.” Mahiru didn’t know if he should confess that Kuro was the only reason that he was so calm despite the situation. He trusted him with his life. “I don’t know a lot about police work or things like that outside of movies. Will it be a risk to go to work? I don’t want to endanger my co-workers by simply being there.”

“It might be best to move you to a safe house. The Karasu has a lot of connections and they might be able to find your address and work. We can stay in a hotel so they won’t find you. I’ll have JeJe call your boss to explain the situation too.” Kuro knew how much Mahiru loved his job as a veterinarian. “We’ll catch that man as quickly as we can, Mahiru. I won’t let anything happen to you in that time.”

“I know you will protect me, Kuro.” Mahiru smiled up at him and trust shone in his brown eyes. He stepped away from him and said, “I’ll start packing some things for the move but I need a shower first. Do you want to join me to make sure there’s no one hiding behind my towels, Mr. Bodyguard?”

“Anything to make you feel safe.” He joked and they both laughed. Mahiru walked down the hall while Kuro continued cooking.

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

[coyotesongwriting]

Damned - Ch. 1

Avengers - Bucky Barnes/Reader

Chapter 1 - Baghdad

Story Summary:  When your mission goes sideways and you find yourself locked up through a case of mistaken identity, you don’t see how things could get much worse. Until you find you have no way to contact the team or even let them know you’re alive. One disaster after another leaves you facing a series of impossible situations, and your very life hangs in the balance. Will Bucky find you in time or are you Damned?

Series Warnings: Abuse, Torture, Murder, Death, Graphic Descriptions Of Violence, Death Row, Jail, Assault, Threats of Sexual Assault, Abuse of Power, PTSD

Word Count: 3588

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this one! It’s going to be a darker fic, and I can’t promise that there’s going to be a happy ever after for this one. In fact, the ending of this fic is up to you guys! If you want your vote to be counted on whether or not there is a happy ending, go to this post and cast your vote.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Series Masterlist

The best part of being home was waking up pressed against Bucky’s chest. In the mornings after you two were finally reunited after a long mission, you’d wake up facing each other, your face buried in his chest. The two of you would usually stay up late on those nights, unwilling to look away as you memorized the other’s face. Your missions could keep you away for months, and since your assignments left you so deep undercover most of SHIELD didn’t know you existed, the two of you could often go weeks without getting to exchange a phone call or even texts. No matter how long the distance, the two of you always seemed to make it work though and you’d been together for four years now. 

The worst times were when you’d return from a long mission only to find Bucky had been sent on his own assignment. Unfortunately, it was beginning to feel like Fury was against the two of you. You’d come back from a two-month mission in Japan to find Bucky was in the middle of an assignment in Peru. By the time he was coming home three weeks later, you already had your orders for your next mission in Baghdad. This next one was going to be a tough mission, you’d be going completely undercover with no one but your partners, Maya and Kevin, to have your back and you’d be out of contact with everyone for the duration of the mission. If things went right, you’d be home in 9 weeks, tops. 

Bucky’s soft moan drew you back to the present as he brushed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He was always soft and gentle in the quiet mornings before the day started. The early morning sunlight danced across his face, lighting up his gorgeous eyes. God, he always looked so gorgeous in the morning light, not that he wasn’t always handsome but these moments where it was all softness were your favorite.

You let out a quiet hum as you leaned up, capturing his lips in yours. His warm hand slowly began to run down your side, and you let out a breathless chuckle as he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his hand rested on your hip, but before things could go much farther your stomach let out a harsh growl. 

Bucky had finally come home yesterday and after catching up with the rest of the team, you’d retreated to the room you shared. You’d stayed in your room all night, not leaving for anything - not even to eat dinner and it seemed like your stomach wasn’t a big fan of that decision. He laughed as you groaned in frustration, throwing your head back. 

“Come on, Doll. Let’s get some food in you.”

“Bucky” you whined dramatically, “Can’t we stay in bed a little longer?”

“I wish we could, but did you hear your stomach? I don’t want you waking the whole tower.”

You shot him a playful glare, smacking his shoulder as you rolled off of him to lay on your back by him, “It wasn’t that loud, jerk”

“Whatever you say. Now come on. Fury will kill me if I let you leave without eating.”

You threw your arm over your eyes, “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe we don’t even get 24 hours this time.”

“I know. I was going to wait until after breakfast to tell you this but… I told Fury that when you get back from this mission I’m taking a month off and if he doesn’t like it? I don’t care.”

Your eyes lit up and you quickly moved to look at him, “Really?”

He nodded but before he could speak you’d leaned forward, crashing your lips against his. His hand found its way back to your body and your hands tangled in his hair. You never made it to breakfast, or out of the room at all until it was time to leave. In the end, you didn’t even have time to grab something from the kitchen, already running late. 

“Really [Y/N]?” Maya laughed, throwing a brown paper bag at you as you stepped onto the Quinjet.

“Do you own a clock [Y/L/N]? We were supposed to be in the air 15 minutes ago.” Maria sighed, quickly finishing the pre-flight checklist and getting the jet into the air.

You were taking the Quinjet over to Ohio, and then you’d take a car down to Houston where you’d fly out from. Bucky had tried to convince Fury to let him fly it back, but Fury had wanted no part in that plan so instead, Maria was tasked with accompanying you two as far as Ohio.

“Sorry, got a bit held up” you smirked, opening the bag Maya had thrown to find a sandwich and chips. Maya knew you so well. You set the bag down for a moment, and curled your hands into the shape of a heart, mouthing ‘I love you’ before you began to dig in. 

“Sure you did. Long night?” Maya winked, tossing her mousey brown hair over her shoulder. She’d been talking about chopping it off for a while now, but then Fury had told you about this mission and she’d been forced to wait until after unless she wanted to deal with a wig - her least favorite thing. All she’d talked about lately was finally getting to chop it off and rock a pixie cut. 

“And morning.” you chuckled, quickly meeting her high five.

Maya had been your best friend since middle school when you’d both been sent to the same group home, and you’d quickly become joined at the hip. Maya had been abandoned as a newborn and had nothing from her birth family, even her name had been given to her by her caseworker. No home ever come for her and instead, she’d spent years bouncing from foster home to foster home. You’d never known your father, and when your mom died of a drug overdose you’d ended up in the system with her. 

Luckily, you’d stayed at the same group home for a few years, and when you were removed from there due to overcrowding, your caseworker had managed to find a foster home who would take you both. As far as the rest of the world was concerned the two of you were sisters, and even the others had quickly learned not to try and argue otherwise. 

You’d been there for each other through everything, from your first heartbreaks to when Maya was struggling with her sexuality. She’d eventually come to the conclusion that she was bisexual, and when your foster home tried to say that wasn’t a real thing, well, you’d managed to get kicked out for threatening to beat them up if they didn’t leave her alone. You’d ended up separated for a few months that time until your caseworkers could find a new home who would take both of you. After that, you’d both vowed to never be separated again, and you’d kept true to that.

When you turned 18, you both went off to a local college, working full-time jobs to afford your degrees. You ended up getting your bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, and Maya got a bachelor’s in Computer Science. You’d both decided to minor in Russian. By the time you’d graduated, you were both slightly obsessed with the idea of becoming spies and had enlisted in SHIELD. It hadn’t taken the two of you long to rise through the ranks, and you’d quickly caught Fury’s attention. 

He’d begun placing you on harder and more secretive missions until he’d finally made the decision to have you work directly under him. Since neither of you had families, your deaths had been faked and new identities with no connection to SHIELD had been forged. For safety’s sake, you both had codes and fake names for the SHIELD emergency lines so you could get through if you needed help, but they were for extreme emergency use only. 

The flight to Ohio passed quickly, you and Maya trading playful barbs about your relationships. She’d started dating this sweet girl at the coffee shop down the road, and for the first time, you’d actually approved of Maya’s relationship. Maya had the unfortunate penchant for picking the worst people, but this girl seemed perfect for her and you couldn’t wait to see where things went next for the two of them. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if they ended up married someday.

When you arrived in Houston, Kevin was waiting for you. Kevin was one of your least favorite people you’d ever met. An arrogant prick was putting it nicely and he always gave you bad vibes whenever he was around, but he was good at his job. Kevin was a professional driver and an amazing translator, one of the best in the business, he had never been in a situation he couldn’t get his way out of. He was fluent in more languages than you’d even heard of, so on this trip, he’d be helping out with any translation or getaways that you required.

~~~~~

“Miss Allen? The car is here.”

You looked up from the book you’d been pretending to read to glance at Maya as she spoke. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her hazel eyes scanning the busy hotel lobby. In her long pencil skirt and long-sleeved button-up, she looked every bit the respectable assistant. Of course, her clothing hid the knives that covered her body. She carried a gun or two at all times for safety’s sake, but she much preferred getting hands-on with a blade so she usually carried at least 5 different blades. 

“Thank you, Annie” you smiled politely at Maya and ignored the short glare she shot your way, knowing just how much she hated her fake name this time around. There’d been an awful bully in one of the foster homes named Annie, so Maya was pretty displeased when Maria gave her that identity. You’d already been in Baghdad for six weeks, so if everything went as planned today she’d be done with the name in another week or two.

Fury had received information that SHIELD weapons were being sold illegally and had needed someone to investigate, but since SHIELD was involved he had to be very careful who he put on the mission. No one at SHIELD knew you and Maya existed except for Maria Hill and Fury, so you two were the obvious pick. 

The two of you walked to the car in silence, it was time to head to your meeting with Mr. Bahar who was selling the weapons. On this mission you were a businesswoman from Canada who ran a small agency responsible for the safety of celebrities abroad, come to buy some weapons and Maya was acting as your personal assistant. 

The ride passed quickly, neither of you wanting to speak too freely in front of Kevin. He’d never been outright rude towards either of you, he merely liked to think he was God’s gift to the world and so that made him a miserable conversation partner. Thankfully, it was only a short ride to Mr. Bahar’s home where you hoped the deal would finally be sealed. As soon as he sold you the weapons, you could begin tracing them back to where he was getting them, and then you could just do some clean up before heading home. 

Home. You couldn’t wait to have one month with Bucky, no missions, no trips, just the two of you getting to finally be together. This would be the longest time you’d get to spend together in one stretch in almost two years and the thought of it had you wanting to race home now. Hopefully, the mission would continue to go smooth, and you’d be back in his arms within two weeks.

Mr. Bahar was there to greet you as you climbed out of the car in the courtyard of his home. Bahar had signaled for Kevin to stay behind with the vehicle, but you’d quickly explained he was your translator and Mr. Bahar had frowned slightly but had waved him along as well. You and Bahar exchanged polite small talk as he led you through his home.

Bahar’s guards were everywhere, and you quickly began to count, memorizing their faces and stations as you headed in. His house was large, and the office he led you to was very carefully decorated. From the set up of the room and lack of any computer, you immediately knew this office was merely a decoy, not the place where he truly got his work done. Maya took a seat next to you on the couch while Kevin stood behind you, his face unreadable. 

The meeting was boring, long ago the standard illegal weapon purchases had become so commonplace you could just about handle them with your eyes closed. Everything went according to plan, a price and delivery location finally agreed on. You slipped a bug into the couch as you headed out of the office. When the time to leave was drawing near, Maya asked if she could use the restroom. When they pointed her down the right hallway, she slipped off to go plant some more bugs throughout the house and find the real office.

The minutes ticked by as you made more small talk with Bahar, regaling him with tales of your favorite soccer games. It had been too long. Maya should have been back by now, and Bahar was beginning to grow suspicious. You could see the wariness in his eyes as he began to study you and Kevin, and you opened your mouth, preparing to offer an excuse for her absence. Before you could say a word, gunshots rang out through the courtyard. You and Kevin dove to take shelter in an alcove on the side of the home.

Bahar’s guards shoved him towards their SUV, but before they made it even a few feet they were gunned down, collapsing onto the sand at his feet. Bahar turned to you, his eyes wild with panic as he began to race towards you. He didn’t even take two steps before another shot echoed and the back of his head seemed to explode. He fell, his vacant eyes staring up at you as blood seeped out the gunshot in his forehead. 

“We need to get Maya” you growled to Kevin, drawing your favorite pistol from its holster. 

Kevin didn’t say a word, merely nodding his head as you lead the way carefully towards the side door a few feet to your left. Your heart pounded as adrenaline coursed through your veins, you couldn’t see the shooters on the roof, they were on the building directly above you and you could only pray they didn’t see you. The stars seemed to be on your side as you both managed to slip through the door before the sand exploded behind you with a missed shot. 

The hallway you’d slipped into was thankfully deserted, and you nodded your head towards the archway on the left. Kevin didn’t argue, merely nodded his head and pulled his gun, heading off on his own as you headed right. He may be an ass, but he was good at his job and he would do everything in his power to find Maya, of that you could at least be certain.

You slipped down hall after hall, rounding corners quickly. The building was deadly silent, the quiet only broken by the occasional crack of a gunshot and you found yourself praying that it wasn’t your team getting shot. Your ears strained, searching for any sounds, a whimper of pain or the slow thud of footsteps to give you any clue as to what was going on. 

The creak of a door to your left gave you just enough to move before the vase behind you shattered into a million pieces, the ceramic raining down to the floor with a loud clatter. You whirled to face your attacker, the shot ripping from your gun as you squeezed the trigger. The man didn’t stand a chance, the bullet piercing his eye and he crumpled to the ground. 

You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you rounded the corner and came face to face with a heavy wooden door. You pushed the door open and the door fought back, something had fallen against the door and you struggled to get it open enough for you to slip through. You didn’t look at what it was until you were in the room, and once you did you felt the air fly from your lungs as your knees slammed into the cool marble floor.

Time stopped as lifeless hazel eyes stared up at the ceiling and a whimper tore itself from your throat as you studied Maya. You were frozen, unable to move for the longest time as you studied her. She lay in a pool of blood, her pale yellow shirt stained with the vibrant red. You could see the hole in her shirt, directly over her heart and knew that her death had been instant. The stillness that had overcome you was broken, and you set your gun down, scooping Maya’s body up in your arms and clutching her to your chest.

Thoughts began to race through your head, memories of everything you’d been through flying past and the promises you’d yet to fulfill seemed to fill your mind. She’d never get her happily ever after, she’d never get to go to the bar with you again. You’d never stay up late with her talking about love and loss and she’d never help you prank Bucky again. Realizations of everything lost in that one gunshot were all that it took to leave you sobbing, all memories of the warzone outside the door forgotten as you held your dead sister.

Her head lolled back in your grasp and you pulled her tighter to you, not even noticing the red that began to sink into your own clothing. You didn’t notice the door opening, didn’t register the hand on your shoulder until they tried to pull you back away from her. You shrugged out of their grasp, not even looking at them, not caring.

“We need to go. They’re killing everyone they find” Kevin’s voice was soft but determined.

You barely heard him speak. It was like being underwater, his voice muffled and distant. You were too lost in your thoughts, too lost in the memories to care. After everything you’d faced with Maya, with every battle you’d won and fight you’d lost, a mission as simple as this should never have been her downfall. Kevin’s hand squeezed your shoulder, and his repeated calls of your real name finally seemed to pull you out, and you realized for the first time that the low keening you’d been hearing was you.

“[Y/N]. We have to go. Now” Kevin tried to pull you away again.

You shot him a death glare, your voice breaking as you spoke, “No. I’m not, I’m not leaving her.”

“Maya wouldn’t want you to die too,” he growled. Footsteps were drawing near, and you were supposed to be in charge. 

He swept your pistol up from the ground and began to pull you away from her body. You fought him, struggling to remain with her, only giving up once he slid your pistol back into your hand. Kevin had locked the door and as the door handle began to jiggle, he pulled you from the room through the window.

You managed to spare one last glance behind at Maya’s body, her head had fallen facing the window when Kevin had pulled you away, and her gaze seemed to be locked onto you. After a long moment, you tore your eyes from hers, wiping the tears from your eyes as Kevin pulled you towards the car. Dust began to rise in the air from the tires as you sped away, leaving Maya lying alone on the floor.

~~Five Days Later~~

“You wanted to see us?” Bucky asked, taking a seat at the conference room table, the last one in like always. 

The whole team had gathered, and Fury stood at the head of the table. His face was unreadable as always, but there was an unexpected tension in the room and Bucky began to grow impatient,  tapping his fingers methodically on the coffee mug in his hands when Fury didn’t speak right away.

Fury’s voice was steady as he spoke, “Five days ago, [Y/N]’s team went for a meeting with a man suspected of selling SHIELD weapons to anyone with the money. We lost all contact with the team after a shootout.” Bucky sat up ramrod straight, his heart beginning to race as Fury continued, “Unfortunately, we can now confirm that Maya was killed in the fight. We identified her body this morning. Kevin and [Y/N] are missing, and we have been unable to find or contact them. We’re doing our best.”

Silence fell over the room, everyone afraid to be the first to speak. No one wanted to be the one to ask if you were dead if they Fury thought there was even a chance you were still alive. A loud crash broke the silence as the mug in Bucky’s hand shattered, coffee spilling all over the table.

Find This Story On AO3

~~~~

Taglist: @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark@redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour @samsgoddess​ @imma-new-soul​ @firefly-in-darkness @wolfiegal98 @brynnloh

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #Fanfic #Marvel The Avengers #Marvel's The Avengers #marvels the avengers #Marvel's Avengers #marvel #Avengers #The Avengers #reader insert

[readingwritingcrying]

How about klaus with the flu? Maybe Luther or Five is pushing him to use his powers anyway until he faints and then feels bad? Love your writing! 💜🖤💜

Being transported back into time wasn’t exactly somethingthat any of them had expected to happen. But in the end, the only way to stopthe apocalypse was to fix their dear sister Vanya and make sure she didn’t go allWhite Violin on the moon the second time around.

Klaus, thirteen, the second time around. It was wheneverything started going completely south. The mausoleum, Ben’s death, Five’s disappearance,and his own descent into more of the harder drugs. It wasn’t really the besttime for any of them, but this time, they were going to be there for eachother, they would do it right.  

They started by training together. They had long ago figuredout the best ways to sneak around the rules once they had gotten older,especially after the death of their father, they know more than they should. That and the childish fears of being caught were faded and far exceeded by the needto not cause the end of the world. Funny what a little perspective did!

They had taken to training during the night, at least a fewtimes a week, and they planned during their free time (and bonded, lots of thattoo. Klaus got all mushy thinking of the affection their siblings had startedto show, they were really learning, all to help their sister. Thank God. Or nother, actually, she was still a bitch, but thank something). Klaus didn’t reallymind the lack of sleep, he hardly got any while he was sober anyway. The longereffects of withdrawal along with ghosts he never learned to deal with? Not the mostcomforting thing, turns out!

That, and Ben wasn’t always there anymore, which was goodbecause it meant he was alive this time, and boy wasn’t he happy about it, butmaybe Klaus felt a bit jealous. He had him all to himself before, one person atleast he could depend on, but he knew it wasn’t reasonable to think like that.

But the lack of sleep and being back in his tiny little thirteen-year-oldbody hadn’t been great on his immune system, which was pretty fucked up, to beginwith. So Klaus was annoyed, but not surprised when he woke up one morning tohis body aching and his body was racked with chills. He sat up with a groan,having to wait on the edge of his bed to stand up to make the room startspinning.

Fuck, this sucked.

There was a knock on his door, so he sluggishly went to openit. “Oh! There you are Klaus, you aren’t even dressed yet! Breakfast is almost finished,silly!” Mom smiled at him and turned swiftly to go downstairs. Klausconsidered going right back to bed, but he knew that if his Dad or Pogo hand toget him up, it wouldn’t be quite as sweetly.

So instead Klaus got dressed. He moved slowly, sore limbsprotesting. He felt like he had to remind himself of each step in just gettingdressed; he didn’t know how long it took him but it had to be longer thannormal (and with worse results, he decided, as he caught a glance of hisreflection on his way down to breakfast).

Everyone was already sat down and eating when he took his placenext to Ben. Breakfast had always been much less strict than any other meal,and chatter moved around him, but Klaus stared silently at his breakfast ofscrambled eggs and toast. He picked at it, eating a few bites of toast, butnothing was all that appetizing. He felt a gentle nudge from Ben. “You alright?”

Klaus nodded. “Just a bit under the weather – would you…?”Klaus trailed off. Ben seemed to understand anyway, and when Grace wasn’tlooking, he piled on the food from Klaus’ plate to his. Klaus smiled gratefully.He still had toast left, and he figured he could manage that without feelingtoo sick.

Today was a study day so he would be okay if he just keptwith it. And then if all went well, he could take a nice nap before they didtheir secret training… yeah, that would work. He’d take it easy, and he’d begood as new.

Klaus told Ben as much when he asked him about it afterbreakfast.

Ben just shook his head, “whatever you say, man.”

Unfortunately, that idea was quickly proven wrong. Klausspent most of the day curled up in a chair working quietly on reading, but themore he tried to focus, the more the words seemed to swim over his head. Hefound himself reading things once, twice, three times. Klaus had never triedvery hard to begin with but fuck he didn’t want to deal with the consequencesof not finishing an appropriate amount of studying today.

They were allowed a more casual lunch, their mom bringingthem food, and Klaus didn’t need to eat anything then. He found his stomach fartoo unsettled anyways, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He was shivering toomuch to read his book anymore, so finally he gave in to a nap. Well, it wasless of a nap then a sleepy daze, his head hurt too fucking much to actuallyfall asleep. H

He didn’t remember how he made it through dinner, it was alla haze. Klaus just remembers Ben leading him up to his room, telling him tosleep. Klaus does as Ben watches over him.

He’s awoken in the night by a pop. “Are you guys ready?”Klaus opened his eyes, blinking until the world came into focus. Ben got up asif to stand between them. Quickly, Klaus sat up. Fuck, that was a bad idea.Bad, bad idea Klaus, don’t do that.

“Yep! Just taking a quick nap, let’s get it on with!” Fivenods.

“Then get something warmer on, were practicing outside. I’llbe back in five.” Klaus lets out a giggle, but Five is gone. Ben gives him a weirdlook.

“Seriously?” His arms are crossed, and eyebrow quirked. Klausmeets his gaze, determined, although hazy with fever.

“I’m good! Better than ever, and showing up for a bit oftraining? Way easier than Five’s wrath if I skip,” says Klaus. Ben sighs, shakinghis head and puts on a coat, throwing one of Klaus’ at him too. Klaus puts iton, trying to hide the wince on his face as he moves. It’s much more of aprocess than it should be, and despite the thick coat Klaus is already shivering,but he deals with it. When five is back, he’s standing and ready. Without aword, Five grabs their hands and with a dizzying pop they are standing outside, far enough away from the house therewas no way their father would be able to see them (Even if Ben let loose – but noone was really eager to start that one up, least of all Ben).

They split up – they always rotated, or else they prettynaturally split the same way each time. Today, Klaus was with Five. Klaus triedto ignore the worried glances Ben kept sending him.

“So, Klaus, have you been practicing much on your own?” Klausshrugged. It was a little hard working on the corporeal thing with Ben alive.The other ghosts he encountered? He really did not want to make them able totouch them.

Five sighed. The disappointment bit into him, stinging morethan usual. Did Klaus get emotional when he was sick? Huh! That was funny. Hewasn’t sure why though.

“Well, Ben’s about as corporeal as ever I’d say!” Klausgiggled. Five looked like he wanted to murder him a bit but that was evenfunnier. His laugh turned into a cough quickly, causing his brother to roll hiseyes.

“You want to try that now? I mean, are there any around, orcan you, you know,” Five gestured, “summon them?”

Five was many things, and Klaus did really care about him,but damn was he impatient sometimes. Klaus sighed, glancing around. Themovement made his jaw clench. He was way too dizzy for this. There weren’t actuallymany ghosts right now – several usually followed Five, but they took a bit tocatch up whenever Five jumped. (Klaus tried to avoid summoning those ghosts. Hedidn’t need to make Five face all of that stuff – he didn’t want to see thesoldiers he shot in ‘Nam, he didn’t think Five would want to see the people he assassinated).

But as soon as he looked, paid any attention to the damnghosts, they made their presence very clear. “Klaus,” hissed a woman – she was old, skin sagging off her as ifshe was melting. Half of her face was covered in blood. She must have hit herhead. Maybe she fell.

“Klaus? Can you conjure it?” Five’s voice let him snap his eyesback to his brother. He bit back a correction on the term and nodded shakily.

“I can try…” honestly, he was surprised with how shit hefelt and how much he was shivering that he was able to see any ghosts, but he’dbeen growing his power quickly. So that was nice. Klaus closed his eyes,focusing. He didn’t want her to be real, to be able to touch him, he felt a spike of terror at the idea. But he channeled itinto the task in front of him.

He wasn’t sure if his hands were shaking because of hisfever-fueled shivers or if it was from the strain of channeling his powers. He openedhis eyes – it was so much better to see them than to not know what was going on,to see his hands glowing blue.

“Oh, shit!” Diego – who was paired with Luther – stopped abruptlyto look in Klaus’ direction. He smiled weakly at him.

“That’s great, keep going,” Five encouraged. Somethingclose to a whimper left his lips. Five wanted him to keep this up? The dizzinesswas increasing, he just wanted to stop this, to go crawl back into bed andsleep. But he didn’t want to disappoint them…

He could feel her flickering, his energy – what little of ithe had – was fading fast. He couldn’t keep this up much longer.

“That’s it, Klaus!” Luther’s voice was encouraging but fuckif he didn’t crave any sense of validation from that. Klaus gritted his teeth,trying not to flinch as the ghost became more irritated. At least she seemedconfused.

Klaus’ vision was starting to get spots. He wasn’t sure ifit was from overexertion or just how dizzy he was feeling. “Klaus,” said Ben,voice concerned. Dammit, he was fine, he could do this!

He couldn’t see.

Klaus’ hands dropped, and his knees buckled.

“Shit, shit, I knew he wasn’t feeling well but I didn’trealize it was this bad!” Klaus woke to Ben’s loud voice. He groaned, eyesfluttering open. He was on the ground? The sky seemed to be spinning, and Klaustried to push himself up, but it just made the spinning worse. If Ben was thisupset something was wrong, but he couldn’t get up. He felt hands on hisshoulder steady him, then Ben’s voice again.

“Just relax Klaus, you’re okay.” Klaus let his eyes fallclosed, his body curling in Ben’s direction as a harsh cough wracked his body.He felt miserable and tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of being jumpedback to his room.

Klaus wasn’t awake for much longer, his sibling lingering,before slipping away to their own rooms. Ben stays with him, just like healways has.

#tua #tua fic #whump #klaus whump #tua klaus #the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #klaus hargreeves #klaus angst #sick!klaus #umbrella academy klaus #sick klaus #tua fandom

[beesmygod]

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you  were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe). 

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

---

SEASON 1 (PART 4): 

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out. 

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all. 

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

#riverdale

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 Chapter 10

"I was like a satellite spinning away

Almost lost forever and leaving no trace

Floating through the darkest reaches of space

To another galaxy

Our polarity shifted around

There is nothing left holding us down

But it's just gravitational

We are unstoppable

I just can't escape the pull…"

Lianne La Havas – "Unstoppable"

Being away from Califia was always tough on N'Jobu. But being away from her and Erik was brutal. His return to Wakanda for his annual check-in had him jumpy and in a constant state of worry. Califia could hold it down, and James was around now, so he had a source of comfort. He gave James a few bucks to watch the townhouse while he was away and to not let Califia know he was doing it. Things were getting tough in the Bay area. Drugs, murders, and unemployment were on the rise, and as hard as Califia worked to help young people avoid the dangers, she was just a drop of water in an ocean of ills. Now she had their son to watch over too and it kept N'Jobu on edge while he was away.

Dante was a big help in watching over his family, but he had his own struggles. Budget cuts had made him one of many looking for work. His having a criminal background made it difficult to find steady employment and he was down in the dumps. N'Jobu asked him to look in from time to time on his grandson and daughter. He made sure to leave some money on a weekly basis in Dante's bank account to keep him floating. Times were tough. Everywhere.

Soliel and Negra Li were informing them of the struggles in Sao Paulo, and with the new fascist and right-wing elements rising around the globe, Serah was even worried about staying in Europe with Addae. Rolita was busy trying to stop pipelines and toxic waste being dumped onto indigenous lands in the States. She was a new mother herself and her people were uniting with other Native tribes to push back on the government. Native murders at the hands of the police had risen, and as quiet as it was kept, the numbers were outpacing Black Americans. Rolita was busy publicizing murdered and missing Native women too from the States up through Canada. Califia and her women friends were deep in the trenches with no end to their work in sight.

This was bothering N'Jobu the longer he stayed in the States.

His brother's edict was for War Dogs to infiltrate, observe, report, and not interfere. But it seemed to N'Jobu that many of the problems in Black communities could easily be solved if Wakanda took a more active role in influencing the communities they were spying on. Small covert actions that could change the course for many struggling communities without showing their hand. His own son had to navigate these roads in the future. N'Jobu wanted to make sure there was safe passage for him.

But T'Chaka would not hear of it. He was interested in subterfuge only if it benefited Wakanda. Wakanda only.

N'Jobu sat eating breakfast with his mother and father on the balcony of the sunroom. Umama prattled on about T'Challa's first day of school and all the new and exciting things the boy had done while N'Jobu was away. It was difficult to sit there with his parents and listen to them talk up his nephew when he was bursting to tell them about his own son. How Erik was adjusting to his new teeth, how his language skills were that of a much older child, how Califia was teaching him several languages at once, how he was already learning basic capoeira and ulwa moves. He had finally stopped biting people he didn't like. Now Erik just glared when he encountered unpleasant people. But he was also very affectionate. When he knew people, he loved people and would constantly give out kisses. They had to stop him from kissing the neighbor's cats and dogs though.

It hurt. Deep down in his soul.

He wanted to show his parents pictures and videos that he had taken just for them. The time wasn't right. Maybe two more years. Two more years and he would bring Califia and Erik to the palace. Carry his son into the throne room and announce his name to everyone. N'Jadaka. Son of Prince N'Jobu and Califia. He would marry Califia in front of everyone and lay claim to what belonged to his son.

Until then, he sat with lackluster energy picking at his breakfast and pretending to listen to all of T'Challa's exploits. It was a burden and he carried it the best he could.

When breakfast was over, he made his way to T'Chaka's military room for a new debriefing with other War Dogs from ninety countries and over two hundred cities.

Entering the silver and gray room filled with warriors and elite soldiers, N'Jobu chose to sit in a spot furthest away from his brother. He felt constricted wearing his military uniform. Oaktown had spoiled him with regular clothes and a life that fulfilled him. It was difficult coming home and wearing the mask of a soldier/Prince.

The amphitheater seating filled up quickly. Some of the council elders were present. N'Jobu was surprised to see Gcuma sitting near T'Chaka. He was under the impression that Gcuma was leaving the military.

The meeting started with news footage of incidents detrimental to Wakanda's autonomy. Niganda was putting more pressure on the U.N. to look into their land claims. A Senator in Virginia was questioning Wakanda's relationship with countries considered problematic to the States. This same Senator had the relative rising in San Francisco politics that N'Jobu was keeping tabs on.

The London War Dog, D'Beke, code name Alton Desmond, stood before them all and relayed his misgivings about Parliament in London.

"We need more War Dogs infiltrating politics, your highness. We should also take direct action—"

"That we shall not do," T'Chaka said.

D'Beke glanced N'Jobu's way. They had commiserated the night before together about bringing up direct action. N'Jobu felt it best that D'Beke bring it up openly so that T'Chaka wouldn't think he was forcing his brother's hand. Coming from someone else may clear the way for open honest talks. It was a no go, and N'Jobu caught his brother glaring at him after D'Beke sat down.

Sita, a War Dog in the Netherlands asked for permission to speak. She had trained with N'Jobu when he first went into the military. She was a hell of a pilot and not enamored of royalty. Her father was part of a group that years before questioned the viability of Wakanda still being a monarchy. They were still pushing to reform the government into something new and not so antiquated and elitist.

"Your Highness, are you even open to discussing direct action?"

N'Jobu, (and he was sure D'Beke did too) waited with bated breath for T'Chaka to respond.

"No," T'Chaka said.

Sita just stared at the King then sat down. Now N'Jobu knew for sure there were other War Dogs out there besides him and D'Beke wanting to do more out in the world.

When the meeting ended two hours later, T'Chaka summoned N'Jobu to his private quarters.

N'Jobu paced the front room of T'Chaka's quarters waiting for his brother to arrive. He checked his kimoyo beads for messages from Califia. She sent him new pictures of Erik eating ice cream with his great-grandmother Nana Jean and Grandpa Dante. She also sent one of her in their bathtub taking a bubble bath with Erik, his braids covered in thick soap suds. They were both smiling at each other, and in that shot, Erik looked more like her with his cheeks puffed up and their noses touching. He missed them terribly and it darkened his mood being in his brother's quarters having to follow orders. He just wanted to get back to his family. Hold his woman and child. Cook dinner for them. Tuck his son in bed. Make love to his wife. He felt out of orbit being in Wakanda. It felt less like home and more like a prison. He couldn't be himself.

T'Chaka entered and N'Jobu saw his Doras stage themselves outside his door. N'Jobu sent Yejide and Ometeko away from the quarters. They awaited him elsewhere. He knew he'd want to go drink or go for a drive after seeing his brother.

"Baby Brother," T'Chaka said pointing to a sofa for N'Joba to sit.

N'Jobu waited for his brother to get to it.

"I see you are influencing others with your need to not follow protocol," T'Chaka said.

"I have no idea what you are talking about. Influence?"

"I know you and D'Beke have spoken about direct action. Having him bring it up does not hide the fact that he was speaking your words. And Sita—"

"He is his own man—"

"—her family has always wanted to end our reign and our legacy. How you could sit there and let her voice your opinion… that is going against our family—"

"Stop. Just stop, T'Chaka. I am not the only one out there who sees what is going on. We are in a position of power to make great and lasting changes out in the world—"

"I am not King of the world. I am King of Wakanda. My concern and allegiance are to Wakanda and the Udaku family. Wait until Baba gets word that Sita is parroting your thoughts and—"

"I have not spoken to Sita. She is speaking her own words. So is D'Beke. Why are you so against the idea of direct action?"

"World problems are not our problems. Your job is to spy. Collect information and relay it. Nothing more. Do I need to replace you in Oakland?"

The hairs on N'Jobu's neck rose.

"No."

"Then do your job and keep your mouth shut. You War Dogs are just pieces on the chess board that I am running. I move you. You do not move me."

N'Jobu bit his tongue.

"Yes, your Highness," he said bowing to his brother. He wanted to be out of the room and away from T'Chaka. He didn't need this bullshit. But he didn't want to lose his family.

"If I hear any more word about this and it stems from you, I will take you out of that place and haul you before the Council. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

"There should be no schism between us. You are a soldier and a War Dog, but you are also from this House. You will hold your tongue. Any words that come from your mouth will be from me and only me. There are vipers among us who would delight in seeing our House go asunder. We are one blade, N'Jobu. Not two."

T'Chaka's eyes were bold and threatening. N'Jobu puffed up his chest and tried to deflect by making his voice sound nonchalant.

"Let us dine together this evening. It would be nice for us to have some time together away from our responsibilities," N'Jobu said.

It was the last thing N'Jobu wanted to do. His desire was to be in his quarters alone and face chat with Califia while she ate and fed their son, catching up on their day, looking at their faces. Hearing his baby boy's laughter. But he had to smooth things over. Get T'Chaka's thoughts away from bringing him home forever.

T'Chaka's eyes searched deep into N'Jobu's. Perhaps he didn't want to do that—

"I would like that. It has been a long time since we have hung together as brothers. Forgive me N'Jobu. I forget to make time for us as a family so often. You know how it is, duty first."

"I understand."

"I hope you do."

"Uncle N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu turned and saw his nephew wearing his school uniform, dark blues and silver. His hair was in neat twists.

"T'Challa!" N'Jobu said opening his arms wide as his nephew ran to him. N'Jobu lifted him up.

"I did not get to see you yesterday, Uncle."

"I know. I apologize. Shall we have lunch together tomorrow, just you and I in the garden?"

"Yes!"

N'Jobu put T'Challa down and watched his nephew go to his father's side.

"See you at dinner," N'Jobu said.

"You are dining with us, Uncle?"

"Yes."

T'Challa's face lit up and N'Jobu felt his heart grow warm. T'Challa was a sweet boy and T'Chaka was holding up his responsibilities as a doting father. So was N'Jobu.

"See you both tonight," N'Jobu said taking his leave.

Walking towards the elevator that would take him to his suite, N'Jobu ran into his mother coming from the family library.

"My Son," she said holding out her hand to him. N'Jobu took her hand and followed her into her private study.

"Where is Baba?"

"Visiting with some Council Elders. Sit."

N'Jobu sat near her and his mother kept his hand in hers.

"I miss you," she said.

"I miss you too, Umama."

"Why do you stay there?"

N'Jobu found himself caught off guard.

"N'Jobu…how much longer must you be a War Dog? What are you trying to prove?"

His mother's eyes were wet like she had been crying before she ran into him.

"Umama," he said touching her face.

"You should be home with us. You should be an Ambassador. Do you know they are considering Gcuma for that position?"

"No."

She was weeping openly and N'Jobu felt his spirit sinking.

"Umama…"

"I want you to come home—"

"I can not do that now. I love what I do—"

"But we need you here—"

"I cannot leave Oakland now—"

His mother's lips trembled and she wiped her eyes. He wanted so much to tell her everything. Lay it all out there. But all he could do was weep with her and lay his head on her lap. She stroked his scalp and he felt like he was five-years-old again. He wept for himself and Califia and his son Erik. He bawled like his heart would fall out of his chest.

"N'Jobu. What is it?" she asked lifting his chin up with her hand. She could see there was something more in his eyes. He felt the confession on the tip of his tongue. He saw Califia's face with Erik's. Just say it. Tell Umama. Release the secret.

"Umama, it is hard being so far away from my family."

The words were for his wife and son. He let his mother think otherwise. She could still comfort him even if she didn't know the truth.

"As long as you are happy where you are, my Son, I will support you. But I wish you were here. When you become a father one day, you will understand what I am saying….ah, my Son…go ahead…let it out."

N'Jobu buried his face in the folds of her skirt. He would take her words and surround himself in her love. It was all he could do for now.

He fell asleep on his mother's lap. He awoke to her sometime later with her still stroking the back of his head. She appeared to sense something was not right with him, but she soothed him as best she could.

Before he left for dinner with T'Chaka and T'Challa, he reached out to Zinzi. He needed her warmth and friendship to prop himself back up.

Califia cooked herself and Erik butternut squash soup for dinner. She found that reducing her intake of meat, wine, and excess dairy helped her lose weight. N'Jobu didn't want her to lose too much, he was happy with her bigger size, but she wanted to get into fighting shape again. Since N'Jobu loved her no matter what size she was, there was no pressure to lose anything fast, so her gradual weight loss coincided with her return to intense capoeira training. The pounds dropped naturally. She was coming to terms with discovering a new center of gravity for her body.

Her favorite part of teaching at the studio now was watching Erik try to copy her moves. The boy was good. Teaching him early was her goal. Something else she noticed about him: he loved to dance. She could play a song and her boy could keep on beat naturally. His eyes watched her every move when she worked with her martial arts students, but when she started offering dance classes, jazz and hip-hop in particular, Erik was behind her mimicking her steps. He would have her dying with laughter when she turned around after demonstrating a dance combination and he would be bouncing and clapping his hands. The shocking thing was the boy was really good. His arms would be up and his legs would follow the beat, but it was his facial expressions that would have the classes falling out. He was feeling the music. When it really got good to him, he would call out, "Mommy! Mommy!" and she would stop to watch him, encouraging his movement and often joining him.

Tonight she was playing James Brown's Live at the Apollo Volume Three while she cooked, keeping it on loop because her little man was cutting up. They both grooved to the classic 1968 sound, and when her computer lit up with a face chat call from N'Jobu, she happily turned on the screen, James Brown still hollering in the background. It was early in the morning for her man.

"Babe!" she said blowing him a kiss.

N'Jobu's smile was wide as he watched her shimmying as she stirred their soup and put it on simmer.

"Hey!" he said watching her. She was wearing a thin body-hugging t-shirt and short-shorts, so she knew he was peeping her hard, as she intended. It was the little things she did to keep reminding him that he needed to get his ass back to her.

"Where's my boy?"

"Erik," she said looking over at him bouncing on his legs to the music next to her. She moved the computer so that the screen revealed Erik. James Brown was yelling, "Power to the people!" and Erik was rocking it out, his little hips swiveling in his huggy diapers.

"Get it, baby!" Califia called to her son. N'Jobu started laughing and they both cracked up when Erik started copying James Brown by saying, "Beep, beep," in a call and response moment.

"Soul Power!" Califia sang out.

"So Powah!" Erik responded.

"Put up your fist, Erik. Do it for Mommy."

Erik watched Califia hold up her fist and he followed suit.

"That's a soldier right there!" Califia said bending her legs and taking a hold of Erik's hand and swaying with him. She lifted him up on her hip and danced around singing, "Ain't it good to ya?"

The song morphed into Hot Pants and Califia wiggled her ass in her shorts making sure N'Jobu could see her cheeks bouncing to the Godfather of Soul.

"You guys are killing me!" N'Jobu said.

Califia covered Erik's eyes and made her ass clap in front of the computer.

"Aye, put him to bed real quick, I need to show you something," N'Jobu joked.

"Hold on a minute," Califia said. She walked into the living room and turned down the music. She carried Erik back into the kitchen and put him in his high seat. She put soup in his kiddie bowl and let it cool while she scooped a big bowl for herself. She moved the computer to the kitchen table and sat next to Erik.

"How are things?" she said blowing on a spoonful of soup before feeding it to Erik.

"Tough."

Califia stared at his face and finally noticed something was off.

"Is that all?"

"I want to come back to you, that's all. It's rough being here."

She scrutinized his face even more.

"Did something happen?"

"No…no…nothing serious. Just the usual boring stuff. I'm ready to come home."

She smiled whenever he said that.

"Baba!" Erik called out waving to N'Jobu.

"Baba will be home soon. I miss you," N'Jobu said.

Erik leaned forward, his lips puckered and his hands stretched forward.

"Hold on," Califia said picking up the laptop and bringing it towards Erik's face. She watched Erik lean closer and give the screen a kiss as N'Jobu did the same.

"You want to give Baba another kiss?" Califia asked.

"You Mommy!" Erik said pushing her face towards the screen. She pressed her lips on the image of N'Jobu wishing she really was smooching her man. Even though he was gone for only thirty days, her stomach still felt uneasy when he was away. Her body never failed to miss him in their bed. She found herself crawling up the walls without him and her adult toys did nothing for her anymore when he was gone. Even now, hearing the sound of his voice and seeing his face made her feel hot and bothered. She could see it on his face too by the way he was looking at her. If Erik were asleep, she would be upstairs in their bed naked, showing N'Jobu all that he was missing, and her man would be doing the same as they did when they were in college. Her legs would be spread wide open for him and he would be sharing himself on the screen too.

She put the laptop back on the table and continued feeding Erik. N'Jobu stayed quiet just watching them, listening to her talk to Erik using different words and encouraging him to answer her back.

"Baba…Baba…" Erik said moving his head around trying to look at the laptop.

"C'mon, let's finish this first," Califia said.

Erik wouldn't be still and Califia turned to look at N'Jobu, wondering what was distracting the boy.

N'Jobu's eyes were watery, and he tried to fix his face but it was too late, Califia saw the sadness there.

"Babe, what is it?" she said. Putting the spoon down, she focused all her attention on N'Jobu.

"I miss you, that's all—"

"It's more than that. Talk to me."

"I was told to fall in line and not rock the boat or else I would be removed from my duties."

Califia's face turned wooden.

"Removed…taken away from us?"

She tried to hide the panic in her voice. But he heard it.

"I'm not going to do anything to agitate my brother or cause him to do that. Don't worry. It just shook me up a bit when he threatened me with it."

"How are you rocking the boat?"

"I think there are things that my country could be doing and my brother disagrees. And since he is the King…he makes the rules."

She knew the stubborn streak in N'Jobu was strong. He liked having his way, but she knew nothing of their monarchy other than what he told her. King T'Chaka seemed like a hand in fist ruler capable of anything, especially if was sending spies into the world.

"N'Jobu…please…don't do anything—"

"I won't, don't think about anything like that—"

"-just do what you have to do to get back here."

"I will."

She tried her best to appear calm and collected. When Erik began turning his mouth away, she knew he was finished with the soup, so she wiped his lips and chin clean and moved him onto her lap to rock him. He reached up for her chest and she was surprised because it had been several days since he sought out her milk. She thought he was finally done with her.

She gave him her nipple and N'Jobu watched her feed Erik more until the boy was nodding off to sleep.

"He cries when he doesn't see you in the morning," she said.

"Just a few more days…"

"I know, but he still checks the bedroom sometimes to see if you are there. He sleeps in the bed with me waiting for you at night."

"Are you waiting for me at night too?"

"Always."

"When it was just you, I could deal with this check-in. But with Erik…"

"I know."

She watched his face for a moment.

"What?" he asked.

"How long are you going to have James checking on me?"

"How did you find out?"

She smirked.

"I caught him sitting in his car when I was taking out the trash. I don't think he was expecting me to walk up on him."

"He's good people and he's doing me a favor."

"I understand. But Daddy is around and so is Junie."

"He wants to do it."

"I won't stop him."

She rubbed Erik's side. He had his right hand still holding the swelling of her breast and his mouth was still loosely on her nipple even as he slept.

"I better take him upstairs—"

"Just wait…a few more minutes. Let me just look at him…and you."

She reached up to pull Erik away from her breast to fix her bra and shirt.

"Don't. Please…leave him be," he said.

She stayed put and stroked the back of Erik's head.

"You give me peace when I see you with him like this," he said.

She saw N'Jobu breathe deeply. His eyes fell upon Erik and she saw something go across his face, some type of inner turmoil, and then it passed. His eyes went back to hers.

"It'll be okay," she reassured him, but she only said that to try and convince herself.

He wiped his eyes and sat back from the screen.

"Until I see you again," he said and blew her a kiss.

He was taking a chance meeting D'Beke in Birnan Azzaria.

The two men took cover inside an out of the way bistro near the border of Canaan and Azania. No one recognized N'Jobu when he went in, and he suspected that no one would say anything anyway. Azzarians tended to mind their business. Out of the Wakandan citizenry, Azzarians were closer in kind to the Jabari tribe, tolerating the hierarchy and its history, but creating their own unique way of living. It was a city that was geared toward pleasure and stimulating the senses.

The bistro was semi-full, but is was still early in the evening and N'Jobu enjoyed a platter of fried calamari and yam fritters. He sipped a thick beer flavored with pears as D'Beke tucked into yellow rice and baked chicken.

Birnan Azzaria was far enough away not to cause T'Chaka suspicion. N'Jobu made sure his brother caught him packing away condoms in an overnight bag when he left the palace. If it looked like he was roaming the city for women and fun with his military buddies, T'Chaka would ignore him. He just needed to remember to get rid of the prophylactics before he returned to Oakland or else Califia would have his head.

"Would he really take you out of Oakland?" D'Beke asked.

"Yes."

"Then he would not hesitate to remove me from London."

"Have you been speaking with Sita?"

"No. She has her own agenda. I was surprised she spoke up at the debriefing."

"We should continue our work, but hold off on doing anything right now—"

"But things will get worse—"

"They will, but I cannot take a chance at this time. We shall wait, and when the King and Council have softened, when the world comes knocking on our door, then we will come forward."

D'Beke swallowed a large gulp of his beer.

"I will follow your lead your Highness. But it grows uglier in London and France…Germany…the runoff will hit our borders one day soon."

"How well do you know Sita?"

"Well enough. She is bull-headed. Rumored to have lovers up and down the western borders. One up in the Jabari mountains too—"

"Really? Passionate people…"

"She is a passionate woman. Did you know she is the great-great-granddaughter of Tunji the Rebel?"

"Yes."

"It is ironic that she would serve the King and your family when her own family wants to abolish the monarchy."

"Every family has their own rebel I suppose."

D'Beke gave N'Jobu a sly look. He ignored it.

"We will cool our communications for a time, D'Beke."

"As you wish."

"I will not meet with you here next year."

"Understood."

N'Jobu paid for his drink and meal, slipped on dark glasses, and left D'Beke seated inside the Bistro. He checked his kimoyo beads and summoned his Doras to retrieve him at another location. Yejide and Ometeko were faithful to him, but he could not take a chance that they could be used to entrap him with D'Beke. He quickly walked through a street bazaar and made his way through several open café patios before he went inside a boutique hotel and waited in a crowded lobby.

Within fifteen minutes he saw a palace cruiser pull up in front of the Hotel. He jogged out and hopped in the backseat, Yejide drove and Ometeko rode shotgun.

"The palace," he said settling back in his seat for the long drive back to Birnan Zana. The golden city didn't feel so golden to him anymore.

Califia thought she would hear from N'Jobu before he came home. But his last three days in Wakanda were a silent terror for her. Her calls and face chat messages went unanswered. He was supposed to arrive that Sunday evening and she almost lost her mind with worry when he finally called her from North Carolina. He would arrive in Oakland as scheduled.

Her father was visiting and she had hoped that Erik could stay awake so she could take him to the airport with her, but he was in a dead sleep and she didn't want to wake him so her father stayed at the townhouse so she could pick up N'Jobu alone.

She was circling airport parking when N'Jobu sent her a four-word text, "Be ready for me."

She felt her stomach flutter. He was hungry for her. Those words were his code. Her clit was already thumping in her panties. The last three days had been stressful not hearing from him. She needed sweet relief from his touch. But his words in the text let her know he was going to be selfish. He wasn't going to cater to her needs, at least not in that initial joining together of their bodies. He was going to take. There would be no giving on his part. She felt her face getting flush already. She would have to figure out a way to get her father out of the townhouse fast when they got back. Erik would have to sleep in his room tonight no matter how much he missed his father. Baba wanted Mommy bad.

She parked his Blazer and checked her lipstick and eyeliner in the rearview mirror. Her eyes looked so bright and eager. She slipped her hand under her skirt. The crotch of her panties was already soaked through. She could feel the outline of her clit poking out and when she touched it, she moaned inside the car. Goddamn, that man. She thought about masturbating and having an orgasm right there, but N'Jobu would know what she had done. His four-word message had subtext. She was not to cum in any manner until he allowed her. His needs were to be satisfied first.

She let her index finger circle her clit, her stickiness drenched the tip of her finger. She found herself whimpering as she touched herself.

"Jobu," she gritted through her teeth, so tempted to plunge her greedy fingers deep inside her sopping folds. She saw his lips and his nose and his eyes and his hands in her mind and her hips started gyrating in the driver seat. Just one. One little orgasm. What could that hurt?

Her cell phone lit up. "Heading to baggage claims."

She jumped out of his car and ran to the airport entrance before she got herself in trouble.

Chapter 11 HERE.

[vex-bittys]

Only Blue: A LamiaSwap Story

This is the third place fic raffle prize for jezziconvair, who asked for a yandere lamia but left most of the details up to me. I hope the finished product makes up for the long wait!

Contains: murder, yandere behavior, hypnosis,drugging, captivity, mentions of abuse

(There is no sexual content in this story. It is under the cut for length only)

Since you were a child, since the first time you heard about the breaking of the Barrier, since you first watched monsters emerge from the Underground to stand in the sunlight once more on your television screen, you dreamed of having a monster friend, and Blueberry, or Blue as you frequently called him, was a dream come true.

You met the rare skeleton lamia at a community center which held events to promote human-monster relations. Blue possessed an irresistible personality, coupled with blue, star-shaped eyelights and an ever-present grin. He fascinated you from the moment you laid eyes on him, and from his exuberant greeting- a tight hug that lifted you right off of your feet- you guessed that he felt the exact same way about you.

Blue referred to you affectionately as Human, and after your first meeting, you got together time and again to go out for food or coffee, partake in hikes and other outdoor adventures, and stay in to binge watch shows and movies. Blue answered all of your questions about monsters in general and skeleton lamias in particular, and you did your best to explain life as a human living on the Surface to him.

You trusted Blue completely, so when your significant other turned violent, you placed a tear-filled call to him in the middle of the night and ended up as platonic roommates. You were too shaken by the attack to talk to the police, but Blue assured you that he handled the situation, and your ex never called or bothered you again. The whole ordeal strengthened your friendship with Blue even further.

Blue, ever the vigilant protector, visited you every day at your job, dropping you off and picking you up and even stopping by for spontaneous check-ins just to set your mind at ease. When you and Blue went out, he often playfully put his arm around you to prevent potential suitors from approaching. If they didn’t get the hint and flirted with you anyway, a warning hiss usually scared them away.

You were grateful to Blue for his big brother tendencies. After your last dating experience, you weren’t ready to put yourself back out on the singles’ market quite yet. Nothing would change your mind until a stranger gave you a shy smile one day. You recognized the person; you’d seen them around town at many of the same restaurants and events that you and Blue frequented.

You struck up a conversation with them, and the connection between the two of you sparked to life in that moment. They seemed to like you, and you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for them. You gave them your number, and they promised to call you that very night.

Their calls became a nightly ritual, and you spent hours talking to them every week. You couldn’t help gushing to Blue about how happy it made you every time you saw a text from them or fell asleep to the sound of their voice. You asked Blue if he minded if they joined you for a movie over the weekend, and he gave you a curt head shake. You thought nothing of it until the day of your date-and-a-half arrived.

Blue’s behavior could only be classified as odd. He acted like they weren’t even there, answering any question directed at him with icy silence. The movie ended with the three of you standing awkwardly in the lobby. Blue glared at your crush, and your crush rubbed the back of their head awkwardly under his scrutiny.  You wondered what the lamia’s problem was, and you confronted him about it when you got home.

“Why were you being so rude?” you demanded. Blue never treated anyone that poorly. Did he know something about them that you didn’t?

“I don’t trust them,” replied Blue smoothly. “They creeped me out. I just want what’s best for you. I just want you to be safe.” Blue’s eyelights radiated sincerity, and the longed you locked eyelights with him the more his words made sense to you. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly after your last relationship? Blue just wanted you to be safe. You trusted Blue. When they called you that night, you didn’t answer the phone.

Your mistrust faded away overnight, however. Your crush called later, apologizing for imagined scenarios, and you relented, accepting their offer of dinner and dessert for tonight, just you and them. They promised to pick you up at seven, and you found yourself actually looking forward to the date. You shared your excitement with Blue,and he smiled, a sweet and genuine smile.

“I’m so happy that you found someone,” he congratulated you, setting your mind at ease.

You were ready for your date by six, picking out a flattering casual outfit for what you hoped would be the first date of many. Seven o’clock came and went. Eight o’clock passed by as well. Around nine, Blue slithered through the door, brows raised in surprise at seeing you still waiting in the kitchen where you’d been when he left earlier.

“No date?” he asked innocently.

“No,” you told him, barely holding back tears. “They didn’t call, and they won’t answer my messages. We made our plans today, why would they cancel?”

Blue wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his ribcage and coiling his long, ecto-flesh around you, surrounding you in his comforting presence.

“Shh,” he soothed, “It’s alright. There’s nothing to worry about. I suspected they might do something like this. You’re better off without them.” You felt so tired. Blue was right. Blue wouldn’t lie to you.

“I’m better off without them,” you repeated softly as the tension left your body. Blue lifted you gently into his arms and carried you into your room.

“I’m here for you. I always will be. It’ll be just you and me,” he murmured as you kicked off your shoes and pulled the blankets over your still-clothed body.

“Just you and me,” you repeated his words again. It sounded so safe and comfortable. Just you and your very good friend Blue, who would never let anything happen to you. Your head nestled into your soft, downy pillow and you drifted off into a dreamless sleep immediately.

You awoke well-rested, but the sadness from being stood up the night before lingered. You checked your texts and voicemails, but your crush hadn’t contacted you at all. You left a vague voicemail for them, asking them if they were ok and telling them that there were no hard feelings over the missed date. When you finally left your room, dressed for work and starving for breakfast, you discovered that Blue wasn’t even home to give you one of his famous hugs. It was going to be a long day.

Fortunately, you shared your shift with your favorite co-worker and high school partner in crime. As soon as you came through the door, she embraced you. With a happy sign, you leaned into the gesture. How had she known you needed this? It took you a moment to realize that she was crying. You pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length while you absorbed her puffy eyes and the streaks of eyeliner and mascara running down her face.

“What happened?” you asked, your own problems forgotten in the wake of your friend’s misery.

“You didn’t know?” she asked in shock. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” You must have looked as utterly bewildered as you felt because she led you into the break room, waving at the TV where news anchors covered a breaking story that held the other workers captivated.

You stared at the TV with an open mouth. Photo after photo flashed across the screen. Over a dozen faces of apparently unrelated men and women slowly filled the screen. You recognized two of the images- your abusive ex and your recent crush. Your eyes darted to the news ticker, attempting to catch up with the words marching across the bottom of the screen.

Anxiety thrummed through your entire body as you picked out words and phrases, putting the story together as different images appeared on the TV. Bodies found. Mass grave. Secluded area. No suspects. No leads. Just victim after victim being exhumed.

How could this be happening? You’d seen your crush yesterday! You collapsed onto the sofa in the break room, processing the information sluggishly. They were dead. They were gone. They were murdered. Numbness swept through your body, chasing away the energy of a restful night’s sleep. You friend shook your shoulder, repeating your name until you regained enough mental fortitude for an eloquent “Huh?”

“Are you ok? Do you want to go home? I can drive you.” You considered it, then nodded. Blue must surely be home by now. He would know what to do. He would take care of you, he had to because you couldn’t function right now. Not after this.

Your friend dropped you off at Blue’s house, waiting outside and watching you through the windshield to make sure you got into the house alright. You fumbled with your key before simply turning the knob in frustration and finding it unlocked. You’d locked the door behind you when you left for work that morning, and that meant Blue must be back from his early morning errand.

As soon as you stumbled across the threshold, you heard the sound of the shower running. You didn’t think you could drag yourself through the house to the bathroom in your shaken state, so you called for him, just him name, but it was enough. The shower noises ceased, and Blue hurried to your side, toweling himself off as he went.

Distress must have been written all over your face because he let the towel fall onto a pile of dirty clothes on the floor- an unusual sight in the tidy lamia’s house, but not noteworthy enough to distract you from the horrible newscast you’d witnessed. Blue held you close to him, stroking your back in soothing circles. He didn’t even ask what was wrong; you’d tell him when you felt ready.

Breaking away from the hug, you sat on the couch and wordlessly patted the seat next to you. Picking up the remote, you flipped through channels until you found the same news story as before, although they were all reporting live coverage of the same event. More pictures had been added to the list of victims, and your stomach twisted as you remembered meeting some of the other victims before as well.

The man in the top left square made beautiful silver filigree jewelry. Blue had purchased a necklace from him for you at a local art fair. After Blue fastened the necklace, with its butterfly shaped pendant, around your neck, the man had kissed your hand and called you exquisite. Blue’s hand laid on top of yours on the couch cushion, and as if he could read your thoughts, he brushed his thumb along the back of your hand where the man had placed his kiss.

A young woman two pictures down on the same side had laughed at a joke you told when Blue took you out for ice cream. She’d even given you an extra scoop for “making her day a little brighter.” Fresh tears welled up in your eyes to join those that had already trailed down your cheeks over the untimely and unexpected death of your crush earlier. In the lower right corner you recognized the face of another person who had held a door open for you and waved you into a restaurant like royalty. How was it possible to be familiar with so many seemingly random strangers? More importantly, who had done such a horrible thing? Someone committed these crimes, and they needed to be found and held accountable!

The newscast cut to a press conference with the chief of police. The shuffling of papers sounded deafening in the pregnant silence as the press waited for an update on the victims or information about a potential suspect. The police chief inhaled deeply, preparing to drop a devastating statement to those gathered around, hoping for swift justice for all of the lives lost.

“We have no suspects at this time.”

The conference room erupted into startled gasps and worried hushed discussions. It took a moment for the reporters to compose themselves and start launching questions. The police chief wore a harried expression as he sifted through the cacophony to answer specific individuals.

“Is there a connection between the victims?”

“At this time, the murders appear to be random and unrelated, spanning over the course of at least several months. Currently, we are only able to theorize on how the perpetrator has been selecting their victims.”

“Does this mean that anyone could be targeted if the killer strikes again?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

You didn’t even notice when your body started shaking, but the warm security of Blue’s muscular tail encircling you with gentle protectiveness made you realize how badly the story was affecting you. Your crush had been murdered while you waited for them to pick you up for a date. You stood in the kitchen, calling and texting them, and at that very moment, they might have been fighting for their life. What if you were next? The killer could be anyone, and their target could be anyone as well.

Everything suddenly felt so unstable and unsafe. You slumped against Blue as alternating waves of anxiety and numbness washed over you. Your eyes fell on Blue’s discarded clothing, and you stared at it, unseeing. It only caught your focus because it was out of place. Blue never left a mess. He even picked up after you sometimes.

“It could’ve been me,” you whispered. Blue chuckled, the sound jarringly out of place considering the circumstances.

“You’re safe. The killer won’t hurt you.” Blue’s words instantly calmed you, the way they always did.

“Safe,” you murmured. That’s right. You were safe. Nothing to worry about. Except you still felt unsettled. You couldn’t put your finger on it right away, but something was definitely out of place. You concentrated, continuing to stare at the clothes strewn across the floor. It dawned on you slowly. The shirt and scarf and the floor around them were smeared with bright red mud, the same color mud you’d seen when the news cameras panned over the mass grave.

“Blue, how did you get that mud on you?” you jerked away from him before he had a chance to answer you, but his coils tightened around you, preventing you from escaping. You struggled, but he overpowered you easily. “Blue, what’s going on? Did you murder them? Did you kill those people?” Hysteria crept into your voice.

Blue’s tail tipped your chin upwards until you were forced to look him directly in the eyelights. The fathomless depths of blue threatened to swallow you whole, but you couldn’t summon the willpower to blink or avert your gaze.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he intoned. “Everything is fine.” Your body sagged; you suddenly felt like you weighed a thousand pounds, as if gravity had somehow increased on you specifically. Blue kept on talking to you, purring reassurances that vibrated through you, right down into your bones until your panic finally subsided. Fatigue tugged at you, and your eyelids, previously reluctant to so much as blink, could barely stay open.

“Nothing… to worry… about,” you managed to murmur, words slurred by exhaustion. Blue’s assurances made sense; they always made so much sense, especially when he stared right into your SOUL with those dazzling eyelights. You didn’t remember going to bed, but you woke up late into the afternoon the next day wearing your favorite pair of pajamas.

You checked your nightstand, your floor, under your bed, and even in your laundry basket for your phone, but you just couldn’t find it. You gave up and stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast, which Blue had thoughtfully prepared for you. You shoveled down forkful after forkful of Blue’s delicious cooking, wondering why you were so hungry. Did you miss dinner last night? Your memories of yesterday were foggy and distant. You lifted a hand to your forehead to see if you were coming down with a fever.

You couldn’t get your hand to obey you though. It hung limply by your side despite your best efforts to move. You tried to explain your plight to Blue, but you couldn’t get your mouth to form coherent speech; all that came out was a garbled groan. Shadows crept forward from the edges of your vision until everything went black and you collapsed forward onto the table.

Blue made a tsk-tsk sound as he picked you up and carried you back to your bed. As much as he hated using hypnosis on you, he hated drugging you even more. He couldn’t let you leave the house though, not anymore. You obviously didn’t understand the dangers of the world around you. Blue needed to take care of you, to protect you from your own poor decisions, like the possibility of you leaving him for another mate or making accurate by unwanted accusations to local law enforcement.

The lamia had already reported you missing. He’d disposed of your phone in a dark alley already overflowing with trash. He claimed that your whereabouts after you left for work a few days ago were a mystery to him, but he feigned concern like a professional actor, even summoning up some crocodile tears for the officer who interviewed him. Now two officers were planning to visit the house to look for evidence.

Blue sighed, slinging your unconscious form over his shoulder. It was so much easier to hide dead bodies. You could toss them around without fear of harming them, not that he cared about harming those foolish humans when they were alive either. You belonged to him. If they didn’t understand that fact, they deserved to die. Nobody would ever take you away from him. He just had to hide you in his storage unit for a few days until the police lost interest, then he could have you all to himself forever.

The manacles on the twin size bed fastened with a satisfying click. Now you could sleep safely, away from the watchful eyes of nosey neighbors and investigators alike. You flailed listlessly for a moment after he put the blanket over you, but you settled soon enough. Blue padlocked the door behind him with a serene smile on his face. With enough hypnosis and the aide of powerful sedatives, you’d learn to accept him, and he wouldn’t need the restraints anymore.

You attempted to claw your way free of the sludge that clogged your mind. You were trapped, but you kept forgetting where you were and how long you’d been there. You lost track of the passage of time. Dreams became muddled with reality, and all you could truly comprehend were the two mesmerizing blue eyelights that haunted your perpetual twilight.

Your struggles weakened. You saw no reason to fight. You were safe here. Blue protected you. Blue took care of you. Blue knew what was best for you. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

Just you and Blue.

You and Blue.

Blue.

Endless blue.

INDEX

#vexy writes #underswap #lamiatale #lamiaswap #yandere blueberry #yandere trope #hypnosis and drugging #forced captivity #fic raffle prize

[sasuhinasno1fan]

I love you, you and your scars- Shiro Ship Week Day 7

When I was trying to come up with an idea, I kept thinking about a moment from Elementary, the TV show, episode 6 season 1 when Joan sees Sherlock’s scar and I wanted to do a shance version of this episode and went a bit deeper. So enjoy! Scars (Shance)

Lance woke up to the loud sound of...was that police scanners? What the hell was the insane boyfriend of his doing now? He climbed out of bed and went downstairs, his hands blocking his ears as he got closer and closer to the little nook in the living room. Screen of computers and blocky boxes of scanners completely filled the table. Lance leaned down trying to find the volume switch but these switches were completely foreign to him.

"Too loud?" Lance turned around to see Shiro standing behind him in his usual large sweater, his usual beanie not on, with a bowl of cereal in his hand. "I went to get breakfast and I didn't want to miss anything." He walked over, leaning around Lance to turn the volume down.

"I like being woken with kisses, sex or breakfast in bed, not the noise of work the follows us home everyday." Lance said, pouting as he moved away and flopped into his favourite seat near the window.

Shiro gave him that know-it-all look and walked over and planted a kiss on his lips. "better?"

"We're getting there. Why are you listening to this stuff anyway?"

"It's been dull lately and I don't know how much of these meetings I can take you dragging me to to fill up our time. I couldn't be more bored."

"They're to help you with your rehab Shiro, you know the deal."

"Yes, yes, I get the chance and privilege to date the one guy who's caught my attention since moving here and we still do what you were initially hired to do by being my sober companion and making sure I don't fall down the hole of drugs again."

Lance knew it was unprofessional, dating the guy he was a sober companion for. He'd been hired by Shiro's father to make sure his son stayed with his rehab. Shiro's mind was amazing, like something out of a book and it had impressed Lance. Shiro took one look at him and had been able to point out certain things about him most people would need an in depth conversation to find out. It also didn't help that he was really cute, like god worthy cute. Lance tried staying professional, he really, really did but the more time he spent with Shiro, helping him and the NYPD with cases and slowly – like molasses slow - getting to know him, it got worse. Lance was about to contact Shiro's father and ask he find his son a new sober partner but then Shiro told him how he felt.

"I fall in love really easily, or I guess in like would be more accurate. I like dating a person and having our relationship build from there. I'm not going to lie Lance, I do find you attractive and I do want a chance but I know it'll be hard because of our relation. I've been able to keep secrets from my father and I know you have it in you to be with a person yet still be professional."

He was glad Shiro had that trust in him, because he barely had it in himself, but Lance pushed through. He only really allowed Shiro to be affectionate and couple like inside their house and it helped him stay focused when they were out.

As Shiro sat back at the table filled with police scanners, Lance remembered an e-mail he’d gotten the night before.

“Oh, your dad e-mailed me to say he’s in town and wants to have dinner with us.”

Shiro stifled laughter, “my father? Wants to have dinner? don’t be ridiculous, my father doesn’t do dinner with those he’s hired. If he knew I was dating you it would do one of two things, you’d lose your job already or he’d care less.”

Lance knew Shiro didn’t get along with his dad, not even thinking he cared about him despite getting him to rehab and hiring Lance to be his sober companion, not to mention renting the very expensive brownstone in the heart of New York.

“Shiro, come on. Don’t you want a chance to at least talk to your dad? I’m sure he’s got a lot to say to you.”

“Since you said you can’t speak Japanese, I’ll give you translation: Takashi, why can’t you be more like your brother? You’re such a disappointment. Your mind is too flighty, think more seriously. That satisfy you?”

Lance sighed. He could tell Shiro wouldn’t budge. He could only hope he could convince Shiro to come with him by the time the day came.

“Last chance Shiro.” Lance said fixing his tie as he walked into the living room, where Shiro was planted trying to work on the new case. It was a plane crash that had a murder that started it. He was trying to find their new suspect but no luck so far.

“Also the last chance for you to also realise he’s not going to be there.” Shiro said, focusing on the screen

“Seriously? You’re still on this? what makes you so sure your dad isn’t going to show?” Lance asked standing over Shiro, getting annoyed with how much Shiro was trying to get him away from the dinner.

“Because he’s my father and it’s what he does? Breaks promises and boy’s hearts by never sticking to what he says? Because he doesn’t care enough to at least pretend to care?” Shiro said, like it should be obvious. Lance wasn’t going to take the bait. Shiro could be mad at his dad all he wanted, Lance was going.

“Fine, whatever you say. I’m going, I’ll text you when I get there.”

“If he’s decent enough to have your meal paid in apology, order the most expensive dessert.” Shiro called as Lance pulled his jacket on and left.

Lance was brimming to prove Shiro wrong, so when he was told that Mr. Shirogane was waiting for him at their table by the hostess, he wanted nothing more than to text Shiro, saying ‘Ha’ like a little kid. Granted Shiro could act childish when he wanted to so maybe that’s why they somehow worked well together. Sitting at the table was a tall man, with dark skin and white hair. Lance was surprised with how different he looked compared to Shiro, but he wasn’t going to judge. Shiro hadn’t told him much about his life but he never mentioned being adopted and they had their cases with such children. It didn’t matter, if Shiro’s father wanted to give him the whole story, then he would.

“Mr. Shirogane?”

“Ah, Mr. McClain. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Oh!” Mr. Shirogane had a pile of books on the table and knocked a few over as he got up to shake Lance’s hand. Lance was quick to help, slipping the receipt into the top book. “I’ve been meaning to catch up on reading and I rather physical books then electronics.”

“I understand. I feel the same way. The lab tech your son and I work with, not so much.”

“Speaking of which, is he parking the car?” Lance felt awkward all of a sudden, but Mr. Shirogane seemed to notice. “not coming is he? I didn’t think he would. My son and I don’t stay on the same page most of the time.”

“So he’s told me, but I’m so glad that we get to talk.” Lance said

“As am I. I do hope his opinion of me hasn’t darkened your picture. We’ve always been at odds, ever since he was a boy. Did you know that he once scaled the fence of our estate and walked along it pillar to pillar, even though I told him not to? Of course he fell off the fence and gained a compound fracture, bone went through the skin. But that boy was so stubborn to make sure I didn’t say I was right that he reset it himself, wrapped it and then wore long sleeve shirt for a few days. If it weren’t for the fact that he got sick with an infections a few days later, I would have never known.”

“Shiro did that?” Lance asked, astonished Shiro would go through such lengths to avoid his father.

“Yes, he has a scar, probably covered by one of those tattoos of his.”

“See, this is why I’m so glad we can do this. I have so many questions about Shiro’s life.” Lance knew he should wait for Shiro to tell them himself, but he was getting impatient. The guy was also his boyfriend.

“Of course. But if you could allow me a question?” Lance nodded. “how’s the sex?”

The table was silent as Lance blinked confused at the man in front of him, wearing an expect smile. “excuse me?”

“The sex? With the exuberant fees I’m paying, you must have to cater to everyone one of his needs.”

Lance continued to stare at the man in front of him. Tadashi Shirogane was to the point and polite in his e-mails he’d gotten from him. He was never crass or crude and kept things short and sweet. This guy was not. Not only that, he knew nothing of the relationship between Lance and his son, so for a comment like that to be made, Lance got fucking duped

“You’re not Tadashi Shirogane are you?”

The man burst into pleas of laughter, answering his question. “no, I’m so sorry. Shiro called me and asked me to come in his father’s place since…”

“His father wouldn’t be here.” Shit. Shiro was right. His dad had backed out and that smartass took advantage of that.

“I know that the two of you are together and I told him that this would be a sure fire way to have him sleeping on the couch, but he insisted that you needed to know he was right. I am very sorry.” It was hard to believe he was with how hard he was still laughing.

Shiro wouldn’t have to worry about the couch, because of his odd hours, especially during a case. But one thing was for sure, Lance was pissed off. Shiro was a dead man.

The man in question hadn’t been killed, but he had been yelled at by Lance who let him know just how much it upset him that he felt like he could take advantage of the fact that Lance knew so little about his boyfriend because his boyfriend wouldn’t open up. It did lead to him waking up to find Shiro on the window seat in his room telling him about his fear of flying that Lance had already figured out. he decided to ignore the whole event from the night before and keep Shiro on warning. He was still expecting a huge apology. The breakfast that was waiting for him from his favourite bakery was a start.

Now they stood on the other side of the integration mirror watching Matt and his boss Coran interrogate their main suspect in their current case. Shiro knew that the man had done it, it was just a matter of poking at the right place to get him to admit it but he was lying his ass off.

“I’ve never seen a more horrible liar.” Shiro said, his hand still covering his nose and mouth as if he could still smell the modelling glue wafting off their suspect.

“I doubt that. Is the smell really that bad? Is it like when we went to his office or when he came into Coran’s office?” Lance asked

“I can’t smell it much anymore but it’s like I look at him and I’m stuck in his office again, the huffing factory. I’m surprised I haven’t felt the need to relapse.”

“Well I’m proud of you and how your acting shows how much stronger you are than this.” Lance pointed out, his focus on Shiro has he removed his hand from his face and pushed some of his white fringe from his face.

In doing so, the large sleeves of Shiro’s grey sweater slipped down starting to show off the inked letters of a quote that Shiro seemed to live by, ‘Patience yields focus’. Funny, seeing hoe Shiro sometimes had little of it. What caught his eye was a scar underneath the‘s’ of focus. With a doctor brother, Lance had learned a lot about different scars and it looked like…

“Something wrong?” Shiro asked, seeing Lance stare at him.

“No, just never noticed that scar, on your wrist.” Lance pointed out, hoping Shiro couldn’t tell that Lance knew something.

“Oh. Yeah I got it when I fell off a fence during a childhood adventure. Bone went through and when I tired hiding it by setting it myself, I got an infection because I wasn’t careful.” Shiro explained looking at the scar, like he’d forgotten about it.

“h, cool. I just remembered, I have to do an errand. Think you’ll be ok?” Lance asked

“I’ll try to survive.” Shiro teased, grabbing onto Lance’s wrist when he was about to leave the room. He knew he was still in trouble from his stunt but he still asked, “kiss?” he was expecting a huff and a ‘no’ but he was surprised that Lance quickly pressed a kiss to his lips before leaving. Shiro stared after his boyfriend, his mind trying to work out what was going on with him but his attention was drawn back to the integration room as Coran and Matt left. Ugg, what now?

Lance walked into a Bookends bookstore, looking for a familiar white head of hair, spotting him move down the steps to the upper level of the store.

“Hey. Think you and I have to talk about your dear old son, Ulaz.”

“My, I haven’t seen someone look this annoyed at me since I helped break my friend’s unwanted engagement. How did you know where to find me?” Ulaz, the man who’d played Shiro’s dad only the night before asked.

“The receipt you dropped at the bookstore’s name, plus it said you had 20% off and members get 10% which lead me to believe you were an employ. A quick call asking if my boyfriend’s uncle whose name I didn’t remember worked here and I got my answer.”

“Allow me to drop these books off at the pickup desk and I’ll be on my break. I could do with a cup of tea.”

Lance kept an eye on Ulaz as he watched him drop the books off and then go behind the counter of the bookstores café and pull out a tea set. He watched as he steeped the tea and brought it over. The particular set looked familiar.

“A gift from Shiro. He’d helped a potter with an issue and got a set as a gift, which he gave to me and on his birthday was gifted another one the he ended up keeping.” Ulaz answered the questioning look on Lance’s face. “So, you have questions for me no doubt. Why else would you come looking for me and not start yelling at me in the middle of the store if you weren’t upset.”

“Oh I’m still upset with what you and Shiro pulled, but there’s something I need to know. You know Shiro don’t you, like really know him. The story you told about his scar is true, I saw it and he told it to me. I could tell he was telling the truth and I know Shiro. If you were some actor he hired, he’d never tell you that story, not when it had to do with his father. So how did you know?”

Ulaz stared at Lance, before asking, “Did you know that Shiro’s father didn’t even find out about his infection until after?”

Lance felt confused. “After? What do you mean after?”

“When Shiro got sick, his father was in back to back meetings when he was supposed to be accompanying his son’s out the shops in order to get out of the house, but apparently he considered the trip not hugely important. His brother, the one he doesn’t get along with had been the one to find out and get him to the hospital. He was there for two days before they allowed him to leave. His father found out 2 days after.”

Lance sat there stunned. “What happened?”

Ulaz shrugged. “As far as Shiro told me, he got a lecture about not climbing on the fence and he can’t even remember if he’d been asked about his infection.”

“R-really?” Lance asked almost disbelievingly.

“I know that you’ve seen how much distain Shiro holds for his father. In all honesty, it’s completely sound. While Shiro’s hidden many scars from that man, he’s gained just as many from him mentally.”

They sat in silence as Lance went over what he knew. He knew Shiro made it clear how much he disliked his father but he thought that was him being stubborn but after what Ulaz told him, Shiro’s dislike was well found. He couldn’t even imagine thinking about hiding an injury from his parents; they were always able to tell if one of their children was hurting even if their own lives were busy.

“How did you meet him?” Lance asked, curious and wanting to talk about something different. He wanted to prod more but he knew that something as sensitive as that had to be talked about between him and Shiro.

Ulaz’s sombre look was replaced with one of fondness. “Back when I lived in Japan, I had a job as a voice actor in a radio drama as a doctor. I had been killed off but was acting as a conscious for the main character and the producers wanted to still have me live instead of doing recordings and around then when I came back as a conscious, I received a fan letter from a boy in high school telling me he was glad my character was still around even just in spirit because I happened to be the only one who captured the real essence of the show. We kept in contact and eventually met up where I helped him with his accents.” Ulaz’s gaze started to turn sombre again. “I knew him when he was using drugs. I’d just moved down here and I know he was in town, we just hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up and then one night, he shows up on my doorstep, so drugged out of his mind he could barely speak. I took care of him but to see a mind like his that could work a while a minute be so slow, it scared me. I wanted to help him but he wouldn’t stay in a program. I knew him well enough that if I tried pushing, he’d disappear like smoke. I am glad that while he seems to be a hurtful man, his father was able to get him into rehab and eventually lead him to you. I am glad that he was able to find you in the end. I know you’ll be good for him, be it relationship wise or in your job as his sober companion. I know he very much appreciates you. I could tell by how much he spoke of you.”

Shiro closed the box on their newly closed case. After realising that their suspect had been cut and lost a large amount of blood he was trying to replenish with water, they’d been able to poke at a new place that got him to admit to the crime. He picked up the case box for all his thought pieces and such when Lance walked in

“There you are. We got a confession and Coran said he’d let me know when he find the partner’s body, though I’ve got a feeling it won’t take long.”

Lance walked over to him and pulled the case box from his hands, dropping it heavily on the floor before dropping his head on Shiro’s chest. The room was silent before Shiro rested his hands on Lance’s back.

“You smell like books and tea. I take you went to see Ulaz?”

Lance sniffed as the tears he’d wanted to cry since hearing about Shiro’s father started to come back up. “He, he, you were hurt and he didn’t even care to check on you or be concerned after hearing you had to go to the hospital. There were other situations like that weren’t there?” Shiro didn’t say anything but that seemed to answer Lance’s question. “I’m so mad for you and angry at myself.”

“You shouldn’t be. I might believe and have proof that my father doesn’t care about me, but it was because of him I can get better and we live in this amazing house and that I got to meet you. I may never forgive him for not caring but I will always thank him for getting the chance to be with you.”

#shiroshipweek2018 #shance #elementary au #sherlock shiro #joan lance

[batfamscreaming]

[@infernal-fox asks: what happened between Slade and Nightwing [in And Monarchs to Behold]?]

It was a favor to Ra’s al Ghul.

Eventually he’d learn that sentence never ended well for him. He told himself that every time he bowed to a whim of his old mentor. Eventually he’d learn, but it still always felt like something small and easy at the time--a dinner meeting to discuss potential future prospects, but with no binding agreement. An exchange of data over a common nuisance with Talia as a go-between.

A request that Deathstroke the Terminator use his house as a way into a brief assassination.

Oh, it wouldn’t take place at his house, no need to worry-- but if Deathstroke could simply use him as a door into a party, well, that would minimize danger, and he knew how Bruce always loved to keep Gotham feeling nice and safe. He’d even ask that Deathstroke make it look like an accident, so that no alarm over more high-profile murders in Gotham could be raised.

Ra’s knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing.

(Talia knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing, he thought, and didn’t put it past her to scold her father into some semblance of civility.)

...but all the same, he’d yet to learn his lesson, and decided a debt was a debt, and he’d never been good at paying debts off.

So Deathstroke would have a safehouse and stepping off point in Wayne Manor for one night.

...Deathstroke would not have a safehouse in the Batcave. That was off limits still, and Bruce would stay up all night on vigil if he had to, but aside from the Batcave, Bruce had… recently acquired more to worry about.

...Dick was twelve, now. Starting to want to venture out on his own. Sometimes he did so without permission. All Bruce could do was try and make sure he kept as safe as he could. Was as trained as he could. Gave him a warning, even though the rule was no one out more than an hour from the manor at night--

But it was daytime, and Dick was awake at the breakfast table on the day of the Terminator’s presence, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and pouring milk into his cereal at the big mahogany table. Some splashed out the side of the bowl.

There were bruises under his nightshirt from the days before. They showed whenever he shifted and his neckline fell or his sleeves rode up.

There wasn’t any butler to make their guest an omelette or benedict, or even to set out the bowl of cereal before Dick awoke alongside orange juice and bacon.

Dick just blinked his bleary eyes at Deathstroke, and passed down the multigrain animal shapes to him, and dug into his breakfast.

….he would still be there, munching away in the room, when he heard Deathstroke speaking to his caretaker.

“I’ve seen what he’s capable of so far; I’m impressed at what you’ve done with him,” the old man said. “How much are you willing to part with him for?”

And then his blood ran cold.

--

Dick Grayson was thirteen, and out for his first night after surviving bruised ribs and a bad sprain. He was allowed to run and stay on the rooftops, but only that. Keep an eye out. A baby stake-out, Robin called it, but at least he was outside and feeling the wind whip around him again.

“Well I was just passing through, but this is a pleasant surprise. Finally let you out of your cage?”

Robin flinched at the voice behind him.

He didn’t move more than that, though. As if there were a knife at his throat.

Maybe a knife at his back. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know why that voice was familiar.

“There’s better teachers,” the voice came again, and something hot and burning tried to come up Robin’s throat. “Ones who wouldn’t let you get that hurt in the first place. And I happen to know a much easier way to heal.”

“No,” Robin mumbled.

Now he felt it. A hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards, closer, until he thought he could feel Deathstroke behind him, voice near his ear. “He’s really got you good in this, hm?”

The grip tightened.

“I decline your ‘no.’”

...Robin remembered the year before. Talking about cost. Talking about Haly talking about not going to pay the fee, about the price of a life. He thought about hitting the ground, and all his bones popping right back into place, his organs knitting back together, the eye jelly that’d splattered out of his head balling right back up--

There were many horrifying sounds in the Gotham night. Gunshots, or shouts, or sirens.

The worst to hear of all was a dangerous little Robin, calling out to Batman for help.

--

Dick Grayson was fifteen. His name was Nightwing now, and his skin no longer crawled when someone stepped behind him.

...but that hadn’t come fast enough to break Batman of the habit, when his charge would flinch and whip around every time he put a hand on his shoulder, and then wouldn’t stop shaking after stuttering apologies.

But his name was Nightwing now, and the new Robin had never seen Deathstroke or felt his breath on the back of his neck. He’d never seen his predecessor be anything less than ruthless to anyone who dared approach from behind.

Robin no longer had to go out unsupervised sometimes, now that there were two people who could keep up with a younger member. Now that they had a robin that had to be trained from relative scratch.

It was also a Robin who didn’t ask many questions, though, just glad to be involved, and alive, and with a home and family, even if one seemed ready to strangle him half the time--

He’d realize, later, that what he’d seen of Nightwing’s temper was just irritation, and not true killing intent. He’d seen Nightwing kill--he’d seen him kill since the first day they met, when Jason floated down a sewer and found himself fished out by masked men sighing how their traps didn’t work on what seemed so much like dead bodies.

...they were helping him, Batman and Nightwing. They were helping him track down the mob that supplied the drugs that killed his mother. The workers and agents who wouldn’t help his family. The people who preyed on street kids that Jason had known before he was sent stumbling into the rivers on a combination of apathy, sickness, and hunger.

They were helping hunt those people down, making Gotham a better place for kids, and giving the survivors somewhere to go. School, housing, and sanctuary.

...but mob bosses could anger a lot more than simply the children of a city they ruled.

They found that out when their infiltration was interrupted, and they found the man-- Lew Moxon--dead in his chair, a sword still in the process of being pulled out of his neck.

“Oh,” Deathstroke said, “Now this is unexpected.”

Robin thought maybe they could shrug and go, now that their job was done for them, but Nightwing--

Nightwing made a sound like Robin had never heard before, and lunged across the room before Deathstroke could even get another word out.

He was fifteen, and had only barely hit his growth spurt, and stood no chance against him.

Deathstroke laughed, and when Nightwing tried to throw him out a window, just held on and dragged the boy down with him.

It was a week before they found him again, in red armor in a bunker outside Gotham city limits, face bruised and covered with superficial cuts.

--

Rules of the Batcave:

No drugs. No alcohol. Chore list must be upheld. No one allowed outside without warning. No one more than an hour away from each other at any time.

And Nightwing is never to come into contact with the man known as Deathstroke the Terminator.

#beatext #deathstroke #slade wilson #teen titans inspired #obviously #robin #dick grayson #amtb #and monarchs to behold #beafic

[2k17cashton]

The Final Task (Gryffindor! Calum)

perhaps the most requested thing in the history of my blog

pairing: reader&Calum

warnings: just some swearing I guess

word count: 7,310 (this is long af)

summary: The final task of the Triwizard Tournament and also the 4th part to my hogwarts!calum series, I suggest you read part one, two, and three before you dive into this one.

Time passes by quickly at Hogwarts. There is always something to do, whether it’s studying, taking spontaneous trips to Hogsmeade, exploring dark parts of the Castle, going through restricted areas, visiting Hagrid’s Hut for a quick chat and one of his hard as stone cookies or even just spending countless hours in the library reading and doing nothing else.

Time is such an odd concept, you can’t feel it, you can’t tell if it has an end, you just know it’s surrounding you from every part. Time takes away everything around you, all the things you might get accustomed to, time makes sure they’re not there forever. The icy grass has slowly gained back its color and it started growing again, the dead flowers have raised high once again, beaming in the sun, the leafs have gone back to living on the trees, not on the ground. And it’s all because of time.

But time can also be evil. It can bring excruciating pain. The pain of waiting for something to happen is brutal, it consists of bitten fingernails and bouncy feet, fast beating hearts and shivers running through your body. And that is the only thing time has given you lately. Pain.

The cold weather is long gone now, warm wind beating against the trees, making branches shake and birds fly high into the sky, past the clouds. The wind is no longer something everyone fears, but rather something they enjoy. It’s not violent, it’s like a touch across the tops of your shoulders, it’s soothing. It’s one of the only touches you can enjoy, all the others seem to startle you and make you flinch away. You’ve been avoiding any kind of interraction for a while now anyway.

It’s not because you wanted to, god no, every time he touched you, you used to quiver under his hands and push closer into him, wanting it all across your body. Now, all it did was leave you cold. Wherever his fingers would trace across your skin, you would shiver and feel icy lines imprinted into you. It wasn’t comforting anymore, it left you feeling pain and cold all over.

It led to arguments, tremendous arguments, screaming and crying and lots and lots of pain. There were angry “I love you’s” and the feeling of not being able to breathe. And it hurt, not only you, but him as well. It hurt every single time he would throw the words at you, they just seemed so vain, almost as if he was struggling to get them to you, to send them right through you so you could feel their power, but you couldn’t. They were empty, just like you.

“God dammit, Y/N! I’m trying my fucking best over here and you’re not helping at all!” He screamed, throwing away any kind of hope that was left of a decent conversation.

“Stop yelling, Calum.” You sighed, letting the book fall from your hands to the ground, not even able to hold it any more.

“No, you stop being so calm! Yell, scream, say something!” He clearly wasn’t going to stop, and you weren’t in the mood to fight back either, but he wanted for you to. Needed it.

“I don’t want to!” He finally got a reaction, which you didn’t want to give, but you couldn’t just hold it in anymore. “I’m tired of yelling, Calum, I’m tired of all of this! My lungs hurt, my head is dizzy and my whole body aches, can you just stop already?” You ended on a quieter note, dropping your head into your hands.

“Yeah, well, so am I. I’m tired of you acting like this, you haven’t said anything to me in over a week, talk to me!” He sighed exasperated and dropped to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your thighs, trying to get you to look at him.

“I’m talking.” You said quietly, leaning slightly into him, because despite everything, you still wanted to feel him close; he became like air and every time he was away for too long, you couldn’t breathe.

“Not like this.” He sighed, pressing his forehead to your knees. “You’re not talking to me, you just talk to make noise. It’s like you don’t want me to be here.” His unruly hair was covering his face and you wanted so badly to run your fingers through the curls, but you didn’t. “Do you want me to go, Y/N?” He looked up at you through shaky and tired eyelids. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” He said, the words most likely stinging his tongue. “Because I will. As much as it hurts, I’ll go.” He waited for you to say something, but it was all in vain.

You couldn’t talk. You had no idea what you wanted. “It’s Calum, Calum, Calum! All you want, all you need, it’s him!” Your brain kept on yelling at you, but you ignored the distant voice until it faded away. He surrounded you from every part, intoxicated the air you breathed and completely blurred your vision, the only thing you could see, breathe and taste was him. And it wasn’t good. It was toxic, it was even worse that you didn’t want for it to stop. But you had to stop it. No matter how much it hurt.

“All I need…” You said in a shaky breath, Calum’s eyes lighting up at the sound of your voice. “Is time.” But that is obviously not what he wanted to hear. “Just some time.”

So he gave you time. He gave you all the time in the world. His chest hurt at night every time he would wake up from dreaming of you and his fingertips would tingle with the need of feeling your skin, but he waited. Give her time.

You had no idea why you wanted time, why time was so important. Days were passing by excruciatingly slow without Calum and the nights seemed even longer, almost never-ending. He was like a drug that you had to leave behind in order to get better and back on track. And slowly, as the days passed right by you, it seemed like a good decision.

It wasn’t until weeks later when you finally bumped into each other. He skipped every class you had together, was never present for breakfast, lunch or dinner, never played Quidditch and never tagged along to the weekly Hogsmeade trips. He wanted you to have all the space and time away from him. But as much as he tried to stay away, he couldn’t hide forever.

“Hi.” He breathed out when he saw you, his voice barely audible.

“Hey, Calum.” Your eyes were glued to his face, finally seeing him for the first time in almost three weeks.

As much as you had joked before about him never growing any facial hair and teasing him every time he shaved for basically no reason, you could now see he really looked to be in need of a shave. He had deep dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked dry. You can’t say you looked any better, most likely the same. Well, except for the beard.

“H-How have you been?” He asked shakily, his eyes shifting anywhere but on your face.

“I’ve been better.” You smiled slightly, and he nodded, most likely agreeing. “You, uh…” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “You got a haircut.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, running his fingers through the short curls. “Figured it was about time.” You nodded, agreeing.

“Looks good.” You bit your lip, contemplating your next words, but then just thinking “screw it” and going for it. “What are you doing tonight?”

So you waited for the time to pass, but it just seemed to stay still. It’s almost as if the clock had been cursed to stay into place and not move. Seconds seemed to turn into minutes and minutes into hours. Just ten more minutes until everyone went to sleep and you could sneak out. Ten more minutes of biting your nails and running your fingers through your hair until it got all tangled up again.

When the clock finally ticked nine, you bolted out of the room. Your steps echoed through the Ravenclaw Tower, so you decided to ditch your shoes and also your robe, throwing them onto the couch in the Common Room and tip toe out the door, wand clutched tightly between your fingers.

Looking around, you couldn’t see him. You decide it’s best to just stay in place, exactly where he said he’d meet you, and fidget with your fingers anxiously. Not even a minute passed by until you hear steps coming from behind you and you turn around, but don’t see anyone. Walking towards the staircase, no one is in sight. Frowning confused, you turn around and almost scream bloody murder, before he puts a finger over his lips and hushes you.

“You really need to stop getting so scared all the time.” He chuckles, backing away and you sigh, closing your eyes for a split second.

“And you really need to stop scaring me.” You retort, but drop the subject quickly.

“Sorry.” He says quietly, looking down at his feet and then frowning. “Where are your shoes?” He asks.

“Oh,” You remember, shaking your head. “I left them behind, they were making too much noise.” You turn around and start walking towards the stairs, but then frown and stop in your tracks, looking back at him. “Actually, I have no idea where I’m going.”

You haven’t wandered around the Castle this late since… well, since you last went to see Calum. And that seemed like such a distant memory now. Sometimes you would look at the clock on the wall at night and think to yourself just half an hour more, but then you’d realize no one was waiting for you anymore. So you stopped counting the minutes.

“Uh…” He thinks for a few seconds, then smiles. “Well, there’s always the Prefects’ bathroom. There’s no one there at this hour and it’s big and surprisingly very nice, we could- “You cut his rambling short.

“Calum, I don’t care if it’s the Prefects’ bathroom or Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.” You start to make your way back towards him. “I only want a quiet place, just for us.” You whisper the last part and he looks at you through long eyelashes, biting his lip.

“Fuck, okay.” He nods quickly and goes to grab your hand, but then immediately stops himself. “Can I?”

Looking down at his expecting hand, you suddenly feel uneasy. You haven’t had any kind of contact in a very long time, the last few times his skin touched yours it left you cold on the inside and made you want to push him away. But you missed him, just remembering how his touch used to feel before makes your skin tingle, so you nod, slipping your fingers through his and breathing in deeply. He is warm, not cold against your skin anymore, and you had no idea until now how much you had missed this.

He gave a small smile, gripping onto your hand tighter and starting to walk towards the Hospital Wing where the Prefects’ bathroom was also located. The night was quiet, the only sound heard were your quick steps through the empty Castle. Reaching the 4th door down the long corridor, you hear Calum whisper “Pine Fresh” and the large door opens in front of you. You keep on taking small steps behind him, jumping a little bit in your place as the door shuts behind you.

“See? I told you it was nice.” He beams and you have to agree.

The bathroom, as odd as that might sound, is actually really beautiful. There are pictures of mermaids on stained glass windows, marble tiles and most importantly, a big tub, almost the size of a pool, in the middle of the room, overflowing with bubbles.

“You wanted to get me here so we could take a bath?” You grin and hold back a laugh when you see his eyes widening.

“No, no, no, it’s nothing like that, I just thought- “You shake your head with a giggle.

“Calum, I was kidding. It’s okay.” He breathes out in relief and still not letting go of your hand, he guides you close to the tub, sitting down and crossing his legs, you following his actions.

After that it’s silent for a while, the only sound in the room consists of the taps running different colored water and the bubbles popping. He doesn’t know what to say and neither do you, but he still doesn’t let go of you hand, no matter how clammy it got. He only grips on tighter.

“So- “You start to say, but he talks at the same time.

“I missed you.” He suddenly blurts out and you nod.

“Me too.” You feel his thumb run over the back of your hand and it’s comforting. “So much, Calum. You have no idea.”

“But I want to.” He says, his voice desperate. “I want to have idea how much you missed me.” He pushes closer to you, your knees touching. “I want to know why you left.” At that you sigh and break eye contact.

“I never left, I was still in my room.” You try to state the obvious, but that’s not the answer he was looking for. “I told you, I needed… time.”

“Time for what?” He pushes and you find it very hard to give him an exact answer.

“Ever since the Second Task.” You start with a sigh, gripping onto him tighter. “I just couldn’t…” You trail off, trying to find your words. “I couldn’t shake that feeling away. It’s like every time you touched me, I felt cold all over again. The exact same cold I felt that day at the lake.” Your eyes can’t possibly meet his, so you keep them glued onto his messily tied shoelaces.

“It hurt, Calum. I needed to get away from it.” Swallowing hard, you prepare yourself for saying the thing that had been bothering you most. “And what you said to me that day…” You trail off.

“What, that I loved you?” He says quietly and you nod. “You know I never lie to you, Y/N.”

“I know.” You nod quickly. “And that’s why it terrified me. Because you never lie.”

“The idea of me possibly being in love with you terrifies you?” He asks and you just nod, biting down on your lip. “Why?” He whispers quietly.

“I can’t, Calum- “He cuts you off when you begin shaking your head.

“No, don’t tell me you can’t say or you don’t know.” He says angrily. “I’m tired of that answer. Tell me how that makes you feel, tell me if you feel it too.” He leans closer to you, placing a hand on your thigh, and you exhale in relief when his fingers feel warm again, not cold. “Because I’m not taking my words back, Y/N.” He shakes his head from side to side. “Not now, not ever.”

“God dammit, Calum, I don’t want to love you!” You finally say exasperated. “As much as I want to say I do, I don’t want to admit it to myself.” Composing yourself, you let the words flow out of you. “I’m afraid that if you get hurt, if you…die.” The words hurt just saying them, but they are the truth. “Then I’ll be left here without you, without anything but empty words.” You feel your eyes get heavy with tears. “I’ll be left loving you and waiting for you to love me back, but it just wouldn’t happen.”

You don’t even realize how fast things are happening, you don’t remember the first sob that escaped your lips or his arms wrapping securely around you, a hand keeping your head hidden into his chest. You don’t know when you started crying and completely soaking his shirt, but all you know is that you feel good, right there, engulfed into his body.

A good ten minutes pass before you finally come back to reality. Your tears are now cold onto his shirt and slowly drying, lips swollen and eyes puffy. His arms are still secure around you and you sigh into him, pressing your cheek to his heart, hearing it beat beneath you and making you relax.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet cheeks.” He whispers after a while, voice hoarse. “You’re stuck with me forever.” You can already tell just by the way he talks that he is smiling.

“Don’t make empty promises.” You shake your head.

“I’m not promising you I won’t get hurt.” He says back. “I most likely will. And really bad to be honest.” You wince just at the thought. “But you know I don’t give up that easily. Not even death can take me away from you.” You slap his chest and he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here to stay.” He whispers over your skin. “That I can promise you.”

You lift your head from his chest and sniffle, looking into his eyes. You know that when Calum makes a promise, he will keep it. But you just don’t know if this promise depends on him. He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, fingers caressing your cheek and you gasp.

“Please tell me I’m not making you cold again.” He says quietly, shutting his eyes tight. “Anything but that.”

“No…” You shake your head, nose bumping into his. “You’re the warmest you’ve ever been.”

His lips immediately crash onto yours after you say those words. You didn’t realize until then how much you had missed the softness of his lips and their sweet taste. Your body pushes back into him, wanting to get as close as possible.

“I love you.” He breathes out heavily. ”Fuck, I love you so much you have no idea.” He kisses you heavily again. “I don’t need to hear you say it back.” His fingers run through your hair. “Just let me say it.” You nod quickly, biting down on his lower lip. “I’ll say it until my mouth hurts and my tongue bleeds.” You gasp at his words, arms wrapping around his neck and legs straddling his lap. “I’ll never stop.” You look into his eyes and before you would have said they were filled with lust but today, today you can say there’s a different emotion hiding behind them. “Just say yes.” He leans back to get a better look at you. “That’s all I ask of you.” You run your fingers down his face, appreciating every single crease and dimple.

“Please.” You say quietly. “Don’t ever stop saying it.” He breathes out in relief, fingertips digging into your hips.

“I love you.” He says and you push closer into him, lips covering his. “I love you.” He mumbles into your mouth. “I love you.” He sighs over your cheek, pecking it gently.

You lock eyes again and you finally feel the life come back into your body. You feel whole again, because of Calum. And in this moment you realize he’s the other half of your soul you’ve been missing all along. Your hands press onto his cheeks, making his pretty lips pucker up and bringing a smile to your face. Everything seems peachy until you feel water splashing all over you making you close your eyes and gasp in surprise.

“Myrtle!” You both yell at the same time over the sound of the ghost’s giggles.

 *

The months of spring passed by quickly, almost as a blur. The first days of summer definitely made a statement, an unbelievable heat wave engulfing Hogwarts. Everyone was mostly outside, having spontaneous water fights that would lead them to detention. The big windows of the library had finally been open, letting fresh air inside, something different from the usual smell of old dusty books.

That’s where you had been spending most of your time. You lived, breathed and only saw the library books. Anything, and absolutely any kind of information you could gather about the third and final task, you wrote it down. It took away all your free time and preoccupied your mind constantly, but there was no time left. It was either this week, or never.

Calum had been trying to get all the studying off your mind, but there was no way he could do that. In class, you daydreamed about it, at breakfast, lunch at dinner you always carried a book with you, at night you couldn’t sleep thinking about it so you would get out of bed at unbelievable hours and read under the covers with your wand lighting up the dark room.

Despite his protests and worries, you just couldn’t stop. You were too worried that you might have missed a certain paragraph that could possibly save his life. You just wanted to make sure. But he wasn’t worried. He actually seemed more than fine, considering he was going to be in a life or death situation in less than twenty-four hours. He ate his porridge that morning with no care in the world, stroking your thigh under the table and joking with his friends.

You had started joining him at the Gryffindor table for breakfast in the last couple of weeks, wanting to stay as glued to him as possible. And since mornings were not as crowded as dinners, you chose to do it just then so you wouldn’t attract too much attention, having the only blue uniform between all the red ones.

That day after your classes had ended, you went straight to the library and spent a good two hours with your nose hidden in a book, scribbling messy notes on the side. You jolted and almost lost the page when you felt hands press down onto your shoulders, clutching the book tightly to your chest.

“You really need to stop doing that.” You press your forehead to the wooden table, sighing in relief.

“It never gets old.” He chuckles and drags a chair next to you.

“I’m busy, Calum.” You resume with your reading, trying to figure out which paragraph you had left on.

“What could possibly be more important than my company?” He frowns funnily, and you roll your eyes.

“Saving your ass from dying, that’s what.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been trying to do that constantly for the past three weeks, give it a break.” He whines, placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Not today, Cal.” You close your eyes a bit longer when you feel his hot breath fan over your neck.

“This might just be the last time you see me intact.” He jokes. “Who knows, maybe I’ll lose an eye. What would you think about that?” He leans back and waits for your reply.

“I would think damn, I could have prevented that if he would have just let me read.” You glare at him and mark your page, knowing you most likely won’t be able to get back to your studying anytime soon.

“You’re tired.” He frowns, lifting your chin up with a finger. “I can see it on your face.”

“Gee, thanks for appreciating these beautiful bags under my eyes.” You say sarcastically, running a hand over your face.

“Seriously, when was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?” He asks, the worry still not leaving his eyes.

“I honestly don’t know.” You sigh finally admitting to him that you hadn’t really been sleeping in the past couple of weeks.

“Come on, you need a break.” He nudges your foot under the table.

“I’m not sure I can even get up.” You yawn, arms stretching above your head.

He grabs your wrist, helping you get up and steady yourself and then turns around. You frown in confusion, but then he glances back at you, motioning towards his back. Catching onto what he was saying, you laugh and place your hands on his shoulders.

“Really? Piggy-back rides? How old are you?” Despite saying that, you still climb onto his back, his arms securing under your thighs.

“Hey, age doesn’t matter as long as I can keep you from possibly collapsing while walking down the stairs.” You cock an eyebrow at that.

“Touché.” You agree and lean down to pick up your bag.

“Shall we?” You point towards the exit and he starts walking, jumping up a bit to startle you. “Stop.” You giggle as he walks at a faster speed towards the door.

“No running in the library!” You can hear a female voice yell from the front desk and you gasp.

“Sorry, Madam Pince!” You call back to the librarian and see her shake her head.

“Kids.” She says under her breath as Calum opens the big library door, walking down the hall.

“Where are you taking me?” You say after a while, having no clue where he was headed to.

“You’ll see.” Is all he says and keeps on walking out of the Castle.

The mid-June summer night feels nice, warm wind blowing across your face and making Calum’s now already in need of a new cut hair blow onto your forehead. You lay your cheek on his shoulder, closing your eyes just for a spare second enjoying the nice sensation of his warm skin and the sound of his breathing.

“Come on.” He pats your thigh after walking for a little while. “Off you go, peach.” You unwrap your legs from his waist and balance your hands onto his waist, trying to keep your feet steady on the ground.

Looking around, you see that you’re now at a pretty good distance from the Castle. He walked you over to a small hill from where you could see the big gardens and a little of the Quidditch field. He sat down on the grass, leaning his back against the big oak tree that’s shadowing above you. You glance back at him when you feel him tug at the end of your robe, motioning for you to sit next to him.

You do just that, sitting down carefully and leaning your back against the rough surface of the tree as well. It’s nice, just sitting here, watching the sun go down next to Calum. The wind is still blowing around you, making the branches of the tree shake and break the silence. Calum’s hand rests above your knee, running his finger in small circles across your jeans.

“Are you scared?” You ask after a while, voice quiet. He seems to contemplate the question for a while, but then just shrugs.

“Not really.” You nod biting your lip. ‘Are you?”

“Terrified.” You sigh, placing your hand above the one he had resting on your knee.

“I know I can’t ask you not to be.” He nods in acceptance and you huff.

“Don’t even try.” You shake your head.

“All I ask is that you believe in me.” He turns his head to look at you. “Know that I’m going to make it out alive, just for you.” You turn your head to the side, looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

“I do believe in you.” Your voice is quiet, a small smile covering your lips. “You know I do.”

“I love making sure.” His eye drops in a wink and you laugh breathily, running your fingertip over his knuckles. “You know I love you, right?” That makes you turn your gaze back on him.

“Of course I do.” You nod, biting down on your lip.

It had been almost two months but you still hadn’t said it back. It only got as far as to saying “me too” but never the actual words. It’s like they rested on your tongue, waiting to be spilled out, but being blocked by gritted teeth. He still liked just the fact that he could say it any time of the day. He didn’t need to hear those words coming from you, he just knew it. He knew he had you completely wrapped around his finger, he knew any word coming from his mouth could possibly destroy you forever. But he only used his power to be kind, to make you feel good, never to hurt you.

“I know you do too.” He sighed and you bit down on your lip at his acknowledgement. “I’m willing to wait.”

You moved closer, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around your back and squeezing your side. The sun was almost down behind the clouds, the small lights placed around the Castle lighting up. You could see into distance owls flapping their wings and flying away with letters tied to their legs, everyone most likely sending letters to their loved ones to inform them about the big task happening tomorrow. But you weren’t worrying about that, not now at least. Calum always made sure to take every problem off your shoulders. And you loved him for that.

“As long as it takes, baby.” Was all he whispered before you closed your eyes.

 *

Yelling could be heard all around, every single voice standing out. Each screaming their own thing, either positive or negative. The Slytherin side was quiet, all gossiping amongst themselves. All the other houses were excited, but Gryffindors were ecstatic, wearing their pins, waving small flags and jumping up and down.

You were sat in the front, anxiously waiting for Calum to appear, bouncing your foot up and down and running your fingers through your hair so much you were sure it was a total mess by now. Your best friends were seated on each side of you, glancing at you every now and then, worrying about you. You clearly had not slept the whole night, the only kind of sleep you got was the small nap you took into Calum’s arms last night against the oak tree, that is until he woke you up to take you back to your room.

The kiss you shared that night was long and full of passion, fingers gripping onto each other as hard as possible, not wanting to let go. You didn’t want to think about the fact that it could have been a goodbye kiss. It wasn’t, he promised you that much. And Calum always kept his promises.

“Y/N!” You heard Anabelle yell and shake your leg, and you immediately turn to see her pointing in a certain direction.

Sprinting out of your seat, you run into his chest, arms wrapping around his neck and your head rests onto his shoulder. He is dressed in the Gryffindor uniform he had been given, his curls brushed away from his face and dark red gloves cut at the fingers covering his hands.

“I’m so scared, Calum.” You whisper out of breath into his ear and he squeezes you tighter against him.

“So am I.” He chuckles lightly. “A little bit.”

“No matter what.” You lean back, looking him up and down to reassure yourself that he is here and he is okay. “If you know you’re not gonna make it or you’re hurt, you shoot red sparks, do you hear me?” You place your hands on his cheeks.

“Loud and clear.” He smiles, trying to ease the tension and you sigh, totally not in the mood for jokes.

“I’m serious, Calum. They’ll come and get you. If not, I’ll come and get you myself.” He laughs at that, bopping your nose.

“You? In that maze? Buttercup, you get lost in your own room.” Slapping his hand away from your face, you shake your head.

“Not now, Calum.” You drop your gaze and glance at your feet, your converse looking perfectly polished in comparison to his dirty ones.

“Hey.” He whispers softly, fingers resting under your chin and lifting it up so you would look into his eyes. “I love you.” He smiles softly.

“I know.” You lean your hands onto his chest, his cheek brushing against yours.

When you hear the voice of Professor McGonagall calling out to the champions you desperately search for his eyes. You both lean in at the same time, lips connection for the last time until he comes back. And you know he will come back to you.

Letting go of him was probably the hardest part. His fingers barely slipped from yours and you already felt cold all over again. Walking quickly towards your friends, you held hands tightly with each of them, biting onto your lip anxiously. This is it. He was gonna go in there and perhaps never come back. You shake away the dark thoughts, and keep on telling yourself everything is going to be okay. He will be okay. With a last look at the crowd, he spots you and smiles, before running off into the large maze and out of sight.  

So now you wait. That’s all you can do. Just wait and hope it all turns out to be okay. Small lights of spells can be seen, the sound of bushes burning and sometimes yells. But none of which you could recognize as Calum’s. Everyone is anxiously waiting, bouncing their feet up and down, biting on their fingernails.

And then finally the first shot of red sparks came. You sat on the edge of your seat, watching as someone Dissaparated and Apparated back not even one minute later, the champion from Durmstrang Institute clutching tightly onto the professor, his leg looking pretty much dead as it just dragged behind him. You place your face in your palms and sigh, feeling bad for him but very relieved that Calum was still in there, hopefully okay.

Another half hour passes by and nothing happens. It was down to him and the girl from Beauxbaton Academy, and only one could win. After a while everyone grew impatient. Why was nothing happening? No one seemed to be shooting red sparks into the air, but also no one had grabbed the Cup yet.

“Come on, Hood.” You could hear Professor McGonagall’s voice say quietly from your spot so close to the judges.

Your lips were bleeding by this point from biting onto them so much, your foot constantly getting cramps from bouncing it so much. The wait seemed never ending, almost excruciating. And then it finally happened. Someone got the Cup.

Everyone stood up from their seats when the blue lights erupted from the middle of the maze, gasping and clutching their hands over their mouth. You were the first one up, leaning onto the railing in front of you, hands clutching the cold metal tightly, fingertips turning white. You knew that after someone grabbed the Cup, it would be used as a portal to take them out of the maze.

Demelza Nolt. She stood proudly in front of the maze, covered in scratches and dirt, but holding the big golden Cup in both hands. The Beauxbatons Academy erupts in cheers. But everyone else seems to be quiet. Where was Calum?

“Where is he?” Sybill murmurs behind you and you feel the world collapse around you.

And then finally, everyone spotted them. A light shower of red sparks shooting low in the air. Professor Slughorn shot out of his seat and quickly Dissaparated. You ran out of your seat, ignoring the screams of your friends behind you. Just as you had reached the big field in front of you, you saw them Appear back. And the image shocked you.

Calum was barely hanging onto the old man’s shoulders, his knees buckling underneath him and giving out after just about two steps. He collapses to the ground, broken wand falling from his fingers next to him. The harsh wind blows right into your face as you sprint past everyone and fall to the ground, your knees most likely going to feel the pain of that later.

“Calum.” You whisper, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as you get a closer look at him.

He looks a total mess. Clothes ripped at every edge, his head barely managing to stay into place as it keeps on trying to fall to the side. His eyes are almost shut, the only thing still keeping them open is the only strength he still has. His face is covered in scratches, so is the rest of his body, his lip busted and bloody. And there was just a lot of exactly that – blood. It was everywhere.

“Calum, oh my god, baby.” You shriek, cradling his head onto your lap. “Hey, hey.” You place your hands across his cheeks, shaking him back to reality. “Come on, stay with me.”

Time seemed to stay still around you, nobody was moving. And that annoyed you the most. Nobody wanted to move.

“Bloody hell, somebody help him!” You yell and look behind you at every single face. They are all looking at the two of you with their mouths agape.

“Y/N…” You hear a light whisper and turn your head around so quick you’re sure you were pretty close to snapping your neck.

“Hey, look at me Calum.” You sniffle, leaning down towards his face. “It’s all good, it’s all good, you’re going to be okay.” Your lips quiver, not even your own brain believing you.

“Y/N…” He whispers again, a small smile forming onto his bruised lips. “I promised.”

“I know you promised, fuck, I do Calum.” Your head drops to his chest and you let out an ugly cry, hanging onto whatever was left of him.

“I never…” He struggles to breathe and you try to shush him, but he wasn’t done speaking. ”-break a promise.” And after that his eyes close.

“No.” You whimper. “You never do.” You could hear the quick steps of people approaching you. “And I love you for that.” You press your cheek to his chest, hearing a distant and very faint beat. “I love you with all my heart.”

 *

 It took weeks, weeks of excruciating pain and ugly sobs. And then school was finally over. The Hospital Wing became the only place you knew. Nothing else seemed to matter. You were glued to those white beds, never getting off your chair. He was going to be okay. Just like he had promised.

He came out with just a broken arm, a twisted ankle and a slight concussion, thank heavens. It was bad, but not bad enough to the point of no return. And now that July had finally made an appearance, it was time to go home.

You had never seen Calum cry before. And seeing him do exactly that multiple times in the past couple of weeks sent sharp waves of pain straight to your chest. But they couldn’t compare to the pain he was in. The first conscious night was the worst one though. He had woken up two days later, confused and lost. All he knew was that you were there and you weren’t leaving, and that’s all that mattered. And then when Madam Pomfrey finally touched him for the first time when he was awake, he could not stop the loud screams coming out of his mouth.

They were brutal and full of pain and just plain ugly. They made your ears bleed and your eyes spill with rivers of tears, but you knew that he was going to get better. And in order to do so, he needed to suffer through the healing process. But in the end, he did get better. And now you could finally go home.

Every night when Madam Pomfrey would send you on your way back to your house, you would sneak out and into the Hospital Wing, squeezing into the small white bed next to Calum, kissing all of his pain away throughout the night.

“So.” You hear the faint sound of his voice say from next to you. “I guess next year is your turn.”

Everybody was slowly boarding the train, waving goodbye to Hagrid whom, as always, was waiting by the Hogwarts Express to give hugs and some cookies. You had boarded your luggage, helping Calum with his since his hand was still wrapped up, a bandage hanging around his neck and holding the broken arm into place. And after that you decided you would sit outside until you had to leave.

“Turn for what?” You twist your head to look at him and smile softly.

“Well, I didn’t win the tournament, so you’ll have to defend Hogwarts’ honor next year.” He grins, showing his beautiful smile and you laugh.

“I’m pretty sure there will be no next time.” You shake your head. “McGonagall is shutting this Tournament down. For good this time.”

“I guess that would be a smart decision.” He nods in agreement.

You look back at everyone boarding the train, the kids from the first year seeming to be the saddest about going home, all of them clutching their luggage and owl cages tight and looking behind at the big Castle in disappointment. Nobody wants to leave Hogwarts, that is just the way it is. It’s a home for all.

“Will you visit me this summer?” He asks, bumping his hip into yours, but then regretting the idea and wincing in pain.

“I don’t know.” You answer thinking. “My parents and I are taking a family trip to Paris. We might be there for a few weeks.” He parts his lips, seeming disappointed. “Don’t worry, I’ll call you as soon as I get back. And send you lots of cards.” He smiles at that. “You could come looking for me afterwards.” He nods quickly, clearly liking this plan.

“We could go to that ice cream shop in Brighton you have gushed about so much.” He suggests and you gasp, excited just at the thought of that idea.

After that you just sit in silence, looking at the small clouds that had formed above you. Even in the middle of summer, rain just didn’t seem to want to leave you. But rain was not so bad, it reminded you of quiet afternoons in the library and nights spent with Calum, sharing chaste kisses while it poured outside, the sound echoing all around. Rain could be something truly beautiful.

“You know I love you, right?” He says, placing the uninjured arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer into his side.

“I love you too.” You say softly, a smile taking over your face.

Ever since that night, that horrible night in which you had almost lost Calum, you realized it wasn’t the fear of losing him that was holding you back from saying those words. It was the fear of losing your control and letting this love inside of you free. But now, you couldn’t stop saying it. You whispered it to him every single day, you said it in the morning, at night, you even mumbled it in your sleep. And it didn’t sound empty and foreign on your lips anymore. It tasted sweet like honey and felt as soft as Calum’s lips.

“So now what?” He sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and looking ahead of him into distance.

Almost everyone was at this point on the train. They were eager to go home. You saw all the carriages with Thestrals leave and the only people left were you, Calum and well, Hagrid. You looked back at the Castle and thought about what you had accomplished this year. Pretty good grades from spending all that time in the library, a nice organizing experience with the Yule Ball committee, but most importantly, falling madly in love. And that was all that mattered.

Looking up at him, you smile and lean up to peck his cheek, before grabbing his hand and sighing, relieved to finally be able to say these words.

“Now we go home.”

A/N: oh boy this has been a wild ride, hasn’t it? now I’m emotional. if you wish to see like an extra blurb or something, I might have something in mind so let me know :)

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos smut #5sos fluff #calum hood #calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #hogwarts #Harry Potter #hogwarts!5sos #gryffindor!calum

[ineffablywriting]

waking up sober

one: the beginning 

Savannah Harper, 22.

Self assured psych student.

She’s nonchalant, sarcastic, and her biggest achievement to date is being able to down five jagerbombs in less than 30 seconds.

-

Harry Styles, 23.

Overachieving law student.

He’s never faced a problem that couldn’t be fixed with a little help from his Russian friend - vodka.

a story of late nights, unorthodox household plants, and a trip to Vegas that changes everything

UNI AU co-written with @faux-styles

“Ok will you please stay still? I need to bloody think,” Harry groaned, staring down at the paper clasped between his fingers as if they held the answer.

“What do you even need to think about? It’s pretty obvious what’s written on the paper there,” Savannah rolled her eyes shifting in her seat. “And I’m sorry if I can’t sit still. I need to use the loo but someone won’t let me out.”

“I’m thinking about the legal matters of it all. I need to call a lawyer,” he muttered, completely disregarding Savannah’s bladder issues.  

“How are you going to call a lawyer if you’re 35,000 feet up in the air, Harry?” she deadpanned.

“Thanks for pointing that out, by the way. Thanks so much for that,” the sarcasm rolled quick and swift off Harry’s tongue. Apparently he became rather sarcastic in moments of hysteria.  

Savannah laughed. “Come here, you should take the window seat. Maybe it’ll calm you down,” she teased.

“One, I’m not completely daft. I know you’re trying to get me to let you out into the aisle. Two, you’re absolutely not funny and three, will you please stop mucking about, this is a serious matter,” Harry implored, even as the stiffness in his shoulders melted away slightly as he turned to glance at her.

“You know, I can’t be serious about something that’s been signed by Elvis. I mean look at that, he swirled the ‘E’ and everything,” she leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted at the signature. “Not even the Queen’s that fancy.”

“I’m somewhat sure that’s not true, Sav,” Harry commented, momentarily distracted. “I reckon the Queen would have more class than Elvis.”

“Ok, but Elvis is the King of Rock n Roll,” she pointed out matter of factly.

“And she’s the bloody Queen of England. Also, she’s still alive.”

“Semantics,” Savannah waved him off.

“I’m so done with you,” he shook his head, frustration seeping from every pore on his body. “Like, I’m actually done with you.”

“Don’t be so rude, Harry. You’re ruining this entire trip,” Savannah stated, giving him a disapproving glare. “Now budge up so I can use the loo.”

“My dad’s going to kill me,” Harry whined, turning to once again stare at the damning piece of paper clutched between his fingers and once again ignoring Savannah.

“Bloody hell,” she sighed. “It’s probably not even legally binding. Just calm down and wait until we land before having a breakdown. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

“Savannah, I don’t think you understand the fact that this is a legal document which means this will be on my file forever,” Harry tried to explain. “My dad is actually going to murder me. I can see the lecture already coming - what will people think, Harry. You’re going to be a lawyer. Our reputation is on the line,” he mimicked in what Savannah thought was meant to be an impression of his dad.

“Just don’t tell him,” she shrugged. “You’re acting like you’ve committed a felony. Relax, Styles, it’s not like you’re going to jail for this.”

“That’s not the point!” he exclaimed, scrunching up the already crumbled piece of paper between his fingers, even more.

“That’s not the point,” Savannah mocked, in a startlingly accurate Harry impersonation.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going to stop bothering you until you let me out,” she crossed her arms smugly.

Harry sighed in defeat, his shoulder slumping with exhaustion as he gave up. “Fine, but can you bring me a drink when you come back?” he asked, rubbing the side of his head to try and ease the growing headache.

Savannah huffed, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing up. “First, you keep me captive and now you’re demanding things. I see where this is going.”

“Sod off,” Harry scoffed defensively.

“With pleasure,” she smiled sweetly, pushing her way past Harry. She slipped her right hand into the pouch of the seat in front of him as she passed, carefully pulling out his small vial of sleeping pills and slipping them into her pocket. “Be right back.”

Harry snorted, once again turning back to his newfound obsession with the document before him. Savannah scoffed as she walked away.

It didn’t take her long to return, a cup of water clamped tightly between her fingers. “Here you go, you wanker,” she shoved the cup towards him as she pushed her way back to her seat.

“No need to be so bloody rude about it,” Harry glared at her, moving his gangly legs back to allow her room to pass by.

Savannah didn’t reply, opting to simply glance at him from the corner of her eye as he chugged down his drink.

He frowned a little once he was done, staring at the plastic cup strangely.

“Everything alright?” she asked him casually, picking at her fingernails.

“Water tasted a little strange,” he mused.

“Oh, yeah,” Sav said, as if she’d just remembered to warn him. “I forgot to tell you, I slipped in a couple of your pills,” she shrugged.

“You did what?” Harry hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“You were going to give yourself premature greys,” she defended herself. “And I couldn’t in good conscience sit by and not do anything about it.”

“You drugged me,” Harry said, sounding thoroughly stunned. “You actually drugged me,” he repeated.

“It was for the greater good,” she explained, before muttering under her breath, “I can’t believe they’re taking so long to work.”

“And I can’t believe you drugged me,” he said once again, apparently having heard her.

“You’ll thank me when the flight’s over,” she said confidently, seeming entirely unfazed by the glare Harry was shooting at her.

“The only thing I’m going to be thanking you with, is a law suit,” he hissed, but Savannah was able to note the faint slurring of his words and perked up slightly.

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” she pat his hand gently where it was resting between them.

“I hate you,” Harry said in defeat, his eyes beginning to droop as sleep fought to overtake him. “How many bloody drugs did you give me?”

“Uh, like three?” Savannah posed it as a question. “It said take a maximum of three.”

“Once I’m conscious enough again,” Harry murmured, eyes closing. “We’re going to have a very serious conversation about this.”

“Just go to sleep, Harry. God knows you need it,” Savannah sighed, using the airplane supplied blankets to cover him.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” he sighed, and not for the first time Savannah felt a sympathetic tugging on her heart as sleep overtook him and she was left to her own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Savannah agreed with a sigh, letting all pretenses of perkiness drop as she stared at him with worry instead. “Me neither.”

-

*four months ago*

Savannah Harper liked to consider herself independent enough that she didn’t need a man in her life to keep her happy. And a year and a half ago, she was convinced that no man in the whole of England could ever change that, could ever make her lose control of herself enough to let someone in. She didn’t think that she’d ever fall for anyone enough that she’d make them such a significant part of her life - significant enough that she’d move in with them and consider her chances at a happily ever after.

Savannah hadn’t wanted a boyfriend, she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. And it had all been going well for her, too, until one day it wasn’t and she found herself falling for a boy.

And, unsurprisingly to her, it didn’t end very well.

A sudden turn of events had left her just out of an eighteen-month-long relationship with some guy from her psych lecture, and with the one thing that she didn’t think would ever happen to her - a broken heart. However, Savannah being Savannah meant she had been intent on keeping her life as normal as she possibly could, despite what had happened. She was fine, she told herself constantly - the phrase alone becoming a mantra of sorts. But being fine came with a price - and in her case it had been her two overly worried best friends waiting for her to have a breakdown.

“You’re going to have to talk about it at some point, Sav,” Alexa said softly, trying not to startle her. “It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

“You should know that better than any of us,” Reyna added, sidling up to Alexa. “Being the future psychologist and all.”

Savannah glared at them, shrugging Alexa’s arm off her shoulder and moving away from the kitchen counter with her cup of tea clasped firmly in her hands. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and she really believed she was.

“No you’re bloody well not,” Reyna crossed her arms across her chest, staring Savannah down. “It’s been, what, three weeks?” she asked rhetorically. “And you’re sitting around in Lex’s flat acting fine while drinking your damn tea and eating two minute noodles straight from the box for breakfast, lunch and dinner. This isn’t healthy!”

“Rey,” Lex warned. “Go easy on her.”

“No,” Reyna glared. “She needs to hear this.”

“What do you expect me to do?!” Savannah exploded, spinning around to face her friends. “He’s been screwing around with other girls, I’m not going to be upset over someone who clearly doesn’t care about me! I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me have a breakdown.”

Reyna’s expression softened. “We’re not him, Sav,” she said quietly.

“You don’t have to pretend to be fine with us,” Alexa added. “You know that.”

“I know,” Sav’s shoulder’s slumped with exhaustion. “I know. But I really am fine. If I wasn’t I’d tell you guys,” she promised. “But I really do feel fine right now, and I don’t want to burden you guys with something so unimportant. Rey, you never even liked Cam. And you warned me against him,” she looked at Alexa. “I just didn’t listen.”

“Bloody hell, you muppet,” Reyna rolled her eyes, crossing the room to engulf her in a hug, Alexa following suit. “You won’t be burdening us. It’s our job to shit talk exes with you.”

“We’re your friends, Sav,” Alexa nodded along. “You’re supposed to ignore us and then come to us if things go wrong. It’s called friendship.”

“Would you like me to spell it out for you?” Reyna joked. “F-R-I-E-N-”

She was interrupted as Savannah shoved her away. “Twat,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“There we are! There’s that smile,” Alexa cooed at her, pinching her cheeks the way you would to a toddler.

“I hate you guys.”

Reyna snorted. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t even come close to hating us,” Alexa agreed. Savannah pursed her lips, trying to fight off another smile and ultimately failing.  

“I know what we could do,” she said, a thought popping into her head. “To convince you guys that I really am fine.”

“What?” Reyna asked warily, suddenly nervous of what Savannah had conjured in her mind.

“There’s a new club opening up in Mayfair tonight and I got on the guest list. Think it would clear my mind if we went,” she said innocently enough that her friends would have no choice but to agree.

Reyna and Alexa exchanged looks, they still weren’t convinced she was fine and were worried about what she’d do if she were to get drunk in a public place after bottling everything up for three entire weeks. At home, they could monitor how much alcohol Savannah consumed - but at a club, there was no way to tell how much she drank, or what she would do.

“First off,” Reyna began. “How the heck did you end up on the guest list? And secondly, are you sure that’s a good-?” she tried to continue, only to get elbowed in the stomach by Alexa.

“Ignore Reyna. I think it sounds like a great idea,” Lex grinned, ignoring her friend’s glare. It was worth it, however, to see Savannah grin back at them, an excited gleam in her eyes.

-

When they arrived, the club was dank and the music too loud. The dance floor was a sweaty cocoon of hundreds of people all moving to the DJ’s beat, unknowingly heightening the already suffocating atmosphere. And yet despite all this, Savannah Harper found that she was having the time of her life.

In fact, with each shot of alcohol that made its way down her throat and the warmth of several people grinding up against her, thoughts about Cameron and his infidelity began to seep from her mind — which was exactly what she wanted. All she could focus on was the heavy beat of the music and the slight burn of alcohol on the back of her throat.

Savannah thought this was probably the best idea she’d had in years, and wished her friends would join her. They had no idea what they were missing. But Reyna and Alexa simply watched on worriedly as their friend drunkenly swayed to the music as yet another body joined her - handing her another drink.

“I’m getting another drink!” Reyna called over the loud music, catching Alexa’s eye and waving her empty glass.

“I’ll stay here and watch Sav,” she yelled back giving Reyna the ok to leave for the bar. “Shit,” she muttered glancing back out at the crowd, which had become rather Savannah-less. “I take my eyes off you for two minutes,” Alexa muttered, heading in the direction of the pulsing dance floor.

But Savannah was nowhere to be seen. She’d disappeared into the crowd, essentially leaving everything behind her. All her worries had flown through the window the moment she had downed her eighth drink, and suddenly nothing seemed all that important - except maybe finding some more alcohol. Everything had started to blur together, and she could feel herself swaying to the beat as it vibrated through her every nerve. She felt like she was floating.

Everything in her mind was blank, so when random hands found their place on her hips, she didn’t even think twice about it. She didn’t really think twice about anything that happened after, really. She forgot all about the past few weeks, and about her friends who were searching the club frantically for her as she gripped the tall stranger’s hand and left the club with him.

For one night, she decided to forget who she was, and that’s exactly what she did. She snuffed out any lingering doubts floating in her mind by taking one final shot, before she stumbled out of the club and into the back of an Uber with the equally intoxicated stranger.

-

When Savannah woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and in a bed that was not her own, she just knew that she was going to be in trouble. She had no clue where she was, how she had gotten there, nor how she was going to get home. She didn’t even know where her phone was.

“Shit,” she muttered bringing her hand up to her face and rubbing the lingering sleep from her eyes. “Shit,” she repeated noting the outline under the sheets of a naked guy beside her. A guy whose name she couldn’t remember even if her life depended on it. “Shit,” she cursed again.

“Shut up,” grumbled the voice beside her and Savannah froze realising she’d woken him up. She held her breath, waiting for him to put the pieces together.

Lying there, she counted the seconds in her head—which wasn't all that hard to do seeing as her head was pounding along to them.  Her eyes took on the shape of saucers as the guy began to move, shamelessly staring as the muscles in his back rippled. She averted her eyes when she realised that he had turned around to face her.

“Shit,” he echoed Savannah’s exclamations as he slowly sat up, careful to keep the white bed sheet covering his privates. The two stared at one another in awkward silence, both waiting for the other to be the first to instigate the much-needed, albeit extremely awkward, conversation they were undoubtedly going to have.

“I don’t remember your name,” Savannah broke the silence rather bluntly. The awkward atmosphere was making her skin crawl and all she wanted to do was to get out of there. “Sorry,” she apologised afterwards, knowing her words had sounded standoffish and that her tone was rather rude. “I was planning to leave earlier, I just don’t remember… much.”

“It’s Harry,” he grinned at her, trying to hold back a chuckle. “And it’s ok, seeing as I can’t seem to remember your name either. Sally or something right?”

“Savannah.”

“Right! Savannah,” Harry clicked his finger repeating her name. “Well, Savannah, seeing as you’re still here, do you think you could fill me in on what happened last night?”

She wasn’t sure if his question took on an accusatory tone, almost as if he was blaming her, or if she was imagining things. Regardless, this caused Savannah to raise her eyebrows, as if daring him continue with that train of thought.

“I was hoping you could tell me the same thing,” she said, carefully crossing her arms across her chest and making sure to keep her half of the bed sheet covering her decency. She didn’t want this Harry person to get anymore eyefuls of her body than he’d probably already seen last night.

“I’m assuming we shagged,” Harry shrugged like it was a natural occurrence—which, from the sight of him, probably was. God, what if he had an STI?

“From our state of dress—”

“More like undress,” Harry muttered, cutting her off. “And god, can you get any more formal,” he commented - Savannah chose to ignore him.

“From our state of dress, and the fact that this room smells like sex and cheap cologne, I’d say that’s a solid assumption,” she rolled her eyes, letting sarcasm seep into her last few words.

“Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Whose cologne are you calling cheap?”

“Yours, obviously,” she tried to raise a brow and from the amused quirk to Harry’s lips she knew she’d failed.

“Whatever,” he sighed, flopping onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I can’t remember anything and I don’t think you can either, so I’m going to have a shower and you're going to leave,” Harry said, grabbing what seemed to be a pair of boxers off the floor and pulling them up his legs, keeping his back to Savannah.

It wasn't exactly an unwelcome sight, she mused, watching as his body moved to do his brain’s bidding. But she had more pressing matters to address right now.

“You’re right, I don’t remember anything,” Savannah agreed. “Like whether we used a condom or not?” she probed and watching carefully, she was rewarded with the tensing of Harry’s shirtless form.

“Shit,” Harry cursed. “Are you on the pill?” he spun around, panic clearly obvious on his face.

“Yes, but—”

“Thank god,” Harry let out a breath in relief.

“You do realise the pill is only about 92% accurate,” Savannah told him dryly, making him once again freeze up. She hadn’t been sure whether to be thankful that Reyna had told her the nifty pill-fact at the time, but now she was sending her friend a silent thanks. “And anyway, that’s not why I asked. There’s the more pressing matter of whether or not you’re carrying around an STI,” she spoke casually even though she was nervous; more so about Harry’s reaction than his answer.

True to her thoughts, Harry glared at her. “I’m clean.”

“If you say so, mate,” Savannah teased, although from the look of absolute fury on Harry’s face, she thought it was safe to assume he was telling the truth.

“If anyone here has one, it’s probably you,” Harry shot back, standing up from the bed and moving around to stand in front of Savannah, who also jumped up to stand, not liking the way Harry was towering over her. Even at her full height however, she was still a head shorter than him.

“And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, glaring up at him as green clashed with green.

“It means that you basically threw yourself at me last night,” Harry smirked, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it.

“Oh really? And how could you possibly know that if you don’t remember anything that happened?” she challenged.

Harry shrugged, “Since you can’t remember what happened either, you can’t prove it didn't happen,” he shot back cheekily.

Savannah stared up at the infuriating boy before her, “You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I had sex with you.”

“I mean, you came back with me - it is my house. What does this say about you?” he grinned, obviously thinking he had won.

“It tells me that I make bad decisions when I’m drunk. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to get dressed and get out and away from you, wanker.”  

“No need for wanking today,” Harry chuckled to himself as he walked over to an adjoining door that Savannah assumed led to a bathroom.

“Ugh,” she scoffed at him, leaning over to pick up her discarded bra. “I repeat... you’re disgusting.”

“If you say so!” he laughed shutting the door and allowing Savannah the small amount of privacy she needed to slip on her bra. She abandoned the search for her knickers after a couple of minutes - she couldn’t seem to locate them anywhere - but she knew that she couldn’t walk out of this apartment wearing nothing.

Glancing around the room, her eyes zeroed in on the dresser directly opposite the bed and Savannah contemplated making a not-so-wise decision. “Screw it,” she muttered marching over and carefully pulling the first drawer open - coming across nothing particularly useful.

The next few drawers revealed nothing but socks and t-shirts and she felt herself growing frustrated before she finally pulled open a drawer that revealed an entire collection of neatly folded boxers and briefs in every single colour imaginable - “c’mon, who the hell wears mustard boxers?” she grumbled to herself.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she chose a plain black pair with the tags still on and quickly pulled them on - it was either that or go commando - before stealing a quick glance around the bedroom to check if she’d left anything behind. Satisfied with her work, she headed out the door and into a corridor that opened up into a kitchen not quite as pristine as the bedroom had been last night. Huh, Savannah thought, snippets of the night flitting through her mind, bringing with them feelings she’d never quite been privy to before.

Choosing to push those disturbing thoughts aside, Savannah spotted a coffee machine sat innocently on the counter next to the sink. Almost as if she had been struck by a baseball bat, her hangover came back in full force - a dull throbbing pain at the back of her head that threatened to tear its way out of her skull. Walking - or rather -  stumbling over to the front door without any coffee in her system simply seemed like an impossible feat now.

“Sod it,” she muttered pulling the dress she’d only just grabbed off the couch over her head and leaving it hitched around her hips, she made a beeline over to the coffeepot. She decided that even though she risked spending more time in the presence of a one night stand she didn’t fancy being around, a large, steaming cup of coffee would be well worth it in the end.

The noises that came along with the opening and closing of cupboards in search for coffee really weren’t helping Savannah’s headache, and with every crash and clang of pots and pans bumping against one another, she felt her frustration rising and her patience weaning.

“Where the bloody hell is the coffee? Does he drink anything other than tea?” she cursed, ducking her head into one of the lower cupboards in desperation.  

“The coffee’s in the top right cupboard,” came a very entertained voice.

Savannah swore as her already pounding head bumped against the marble counter in her haste to turn around. Rubbing her temples, she looked over to see Harry with only a towel wrapped around his waist and an amused smile on his face as he eyed Savannah’s attire.

“I didn’t peg you as a thief,” he observed, nodding towards her lower body.

“I didn't peg you as the type to read erotica,” she shot back, eyeing the Sylvia Day book she’d just spotted lying open against a fruit bowl beside her, before reaching up into the top cupboard and grabbing the coffee out.

“Not mine,” he replied, pulling out two mugs from a cupboard beside Savannah as she brewed the two of them some coffee.

“Right...”

“It’s not,” Harry insisted.

“I don’t care,” she retorted.

“It’s my mate’s girlfriend’s,” he explained anyway.

“I really don’t care, Harvey,” Savannah purposefully used the wrong name.

“It’s Harry,” he corrected, and by the tone of his voice, she could tell it had grated on his nerves.

“I still don’t care.”

“Bloody hell, my hangover’s getting worse,” he complained.

“Aw, did Harvey have too much to drink last night?” she cooed at him.

Muttering under his breath, Harry left the kitchen and disappeared from sight as he turned the corner that led to his bedroom.

Despite knowing that it was pointless, Savannah hoped he wouldn't return until she was out of his flat. Much to her despair, he walked back out moments later - still shirtless, this time wearing a pair of low hanging sweatpants on his hips that just drew all of Savannah’s attention to the deep V-lines leading downwards. She looked away quickly before he got the chance to catch her ogling.  

Just as he entered the kitchen space, the chime on the coffee machine indicated it was ready. So, without wasting a second, Savannah poured herself a cup of the steaming black beverage, instantly taking a massive slurp and burning her tongue in the process. She didn’t mind. Instead she rather welcomed the slight pain on her tongue as it briefly distracted her from the headache that was still hammering around her head.

“Oi, where’s mine?” Harry’s grating voice brought her back down to earth, and when she turned to glance at him, he had a surprisingly adorable pout on his lips. This only seemed to frustrate Savannah.

“It’s your house, pour it for yourself,” she shrugged.

His pout deepening, Harry fixed himself a cup of the coffee.

“Well, I’m done,” Savannah dropped her cup into the already overflowing sink. She glanced down at herself and blushed a little, knowing how much of a mess she probably was.

Pulling down the dress so that it wasn’t hitched so high up around her hips, she turned to Harry and opened her mouth a couple of times before settling on a simple, “goodbye.”.

“Uh, see ya around,” came Harry’s distracted reply, his thoughts occupied as he nursed his mug thoughtfully.

“Probably not,” Savannah quipped, though the words didn’t come out as rudely as she’d intended.

AN: helloooooo, it’s been well over a year and we are super duper sorry for the ridiculous wait, but it’s finally hereeeeee!! Chapter one of WUS has fnally been posted. Please let us know what you think by sending us a message, whether you’d like to see it on any other social media platforms (wattpad? AO3?)? and what you expect in the next few chapters! 

Hope you guys enjoy it!!! 

xo Lola and Faye

#Harry styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #Harry styles fan fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fic #harry imagine #harry fic #harry fanfiction #harry one shot #1dff #1dff harry #WUS

[redsdesktop]

Conflict: Chapter 13.

The sight that greeted Splendid was something that was straight out of a horror film, the hero had seen a lot of gory deaths but all of them had been accidents. To know someone deliberately did this made his stomach churn, holding the back of his hand up to his covered mouth as it that would keep his breakfast down. Someone had chopped the poor girl up and hung the pieces on the meat hooks. Blood was iced along what skin he could see, the blood on the floor was frosted with more ice. He had to look away, this couldn't keep happening, the very sanity of the town was at risk here and yet neither him nor his brother where anywhere closer to finding out who was behind all of this. He wanted to close the freezer door, but it was up to him to see if there was anything that might give the heroes a hint to who was behind all of this.

Splendid was careful where he walked, not wanting to slip in the icy puddles of blood. He held his scarf firmly over his mouth, the scent of the alpha wasn't as bad thanks to the cold air, but Splendid didn't want it clouding his mind and stirring up his more aggressive Delta nature. First, Splendid examined what was left of the hands, the fingers were disfigured, broken and bent in odd angles as if the person had tortured the girl. Splendid didn't know much about Flaky, the shy tomboy kept to herself, but she always had the loudest scream, it was a surprise that no one had heard her. Though it was possible that the murderer had gagged her. Gently, he examined beneath the fingernails, hoping that she struggled and clawed some of the murderer's skin off. DNA testing was really the source of forensics that was decently reliable.

His brother had told him not to trust all the mystery books and crime TV shows which blasted ways to find people by fingerprints, lie detectors, or even eye witness accounts out of proportions. Nothing was ever solid evidence, there was no computer to match fingerprints, it was all done by a person who compared them and people alone with ruled by their own personal preferences. When the woman's nails were clean, mostly, he sighed, either she couldn't have put up a struggle or the alpha had cleaned her hands. He could see for any blood that might've been the murderer's but there was already so much blood from Flaky everywhere it would be near impossible to get a clean sample. All he had to go on still was the scent.

Defeated, Splendid made his way out of the store to meet up with his brother, who was still pacing restlessly outside the front of the store. Splendont raised his head, on alert and hopeful as he looked over at Splendid. The blue haired hero made a grim face and shook his head. Now they had to do clean up, Everything had to look like an accident, but there were witnesses who knew Flaky hadn't died by accident. Which meant someone had to take care of them as well. Blue eyes met red as they glared at each other, the thought crossing both of their minds. Neither wanted to be tasked with that responsibility. So they had to settle it like men.

Both of them threw their right fists out, only to stop halfway between them, it would've looked like they were about to punch each other but at a closer look at their hands it was a different story.

"Looks like you lose, Splendick." Splendont taunted as all the fingers in his hand were curled except for the index and middle finger, resembling scissors. "Take care of Disco Bear and Nutty, they're the only ones."

"Shit." Splendid grimaced as his hand was flat, like paper. "Whatever, I'll get it done, you get rid of the building in the meantime." He gave one last glare at his brother, he always hated having to kill the citizens of Happy Tree, but all was needed in order to maintain some sort of peace in this cursed town.

------------------

Splendid stepped out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of his favorite heart patterned boxers, still drying his bright blue hair with a towel when he heard his phone ringing from his desk. He'd just finished cleaning up, washing the blood stains out of his jumpsuit and then showering to wash the blood out of his hair and off his skin. Nutty had provided somewhat of a problem since the guy wouldn't stay still long enough to make the kill quick and painless. The mess was so bad that Splendid had to basically set the guy's house on fire to cover it all up.Tomorrow, everything would return back to normal, but how long it would stay that way until the murderer chose they're next victim, was unknown to Splendid.

He hurried over to his phone, hoping it was Flippy. He had texted his boyfriend as soon as he got home and had invited Flippy to come over after he cleaned up. Flippy agreed, but he'd stop and pick up food along the way for movie night. Instead of Flippy, he noticed it was just his brother. Annoyed because of his disappointment, he reluctantly answered it. "Don't tell me something else has happened, I just got all cleaned up!"

"No one cares, its our job as heroes, so stop whining." Splendont sounded a bit tired, he was probably crashing from being so worked up earlier.

"So what is it?" Splendid questioned, wondering why his brother would call him, while he wished he could just have a casual call with Splendont, the Alpha was too ornery and stubborn. Soft emotions and feelings were something he didn't have, or at least show.

"I've been thinking over it, since none of the people in Happy Tree smell like this, do you think they could be using some of the medication? You know the ones that change your scent? I've never looked into the stuff."

Splendid set his phone down and put his brother on speaker phone since he was home alone and the call wasn't an emergency. He used the time to begin getting dressed for Flippy to arrive, anticipation thrumming through his veins. He'd been all day without seeing his newly dubbed boyfriend and he was eager to see the veteran. "Its possible, but you have to have a presciption for that stuff. Its not like they hand those over the counter to just anyone. Though, I don't know anyone who takes the scent masking or scent changer drugs. Most people keep it a secret because they don't want to be judged by their decisions."

The phone was silent for a while, making Splendid pause in pulling over his white shirt to glance at his phone in case it had accidentally turned off or he lost the call. It still displayed that he was on the line with his brother, the alpha must be lost in thought. Unlike Splendid, Splendont took his time to mull things over, as long as he didn't lose his temper, which was easy to do. "So, if they have to get it prescribed, they must have seen a doctor."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Shut up, I'm just following a train of thought here. Since that information is private and we're not exactly the police, we need to get into the doctor's files and see everyone who is taking that medication."

"What you're saying is illegal, you know that right?"

"Says the man who just killed two people without batting an eye."

"Eh, you get used to it. So what you're trying to say is that we sneak into the hospital and look up all the records without getting caught. That sounds impossible, I don't even know the medical name for the stuff, its probably some long name that will only give me a headache if I try to pronounce it." Splendid groaned, espionage wasn't his strong suit, being sneaky wasn't something that was in his dictionary. He like impressive displays and showing off. Not to mention, they were heroes, Splendid was noticeable and popular, no one would simply glance him over. Even though Splendont was more reserved and closed off about his job, he likely couldn't get away without being noticed either.

"Do you ever stop complaining? Look, just meet me in front of the hospital tomorrow morning at nine and I'll brief you when you get there."

"If we get caught, its your turn to do clean up, just remember." Splendid's phone dinged, indicating he had a message, he looked at the phone to see a notification of Flippy texting him that he was on his way. "Anyways, gotta' go, Flippy's on his way over. So don't call me again until morning. See ya!" He tapped the end call button and went into this messages to text Flippy back to let him know movie night was still a go. He would've cooked them dinner, but he didn't want to wait that long since it had taken all his spare time cleaning up after himself and making sure there wasn't a drop of blood in his clean and pristine home. He hurried downstairs, taking the steps too at a time before pausing in front of a wall mirror, checking on his still damp hair, it wasn't its usual boyish part, but it was still perfectly and handsomely messy.

Next, he moved over to the couch, making sure there were an appropriate amount of pillows and blankets, with autumn here, he liked to cozy up in them. Now he had gone out and bought a heating throw blanket for Flippy, hoping he'd like it in the coming colder months. He had done some reading about Omegas, but he took them as suggestions rather than rules as the website indicated that every omega was different. Being a Delta, he knew all about being a variant from the norm. Still though, he recalled that Flippy always seemed to have a certain blanket around at his house, one Splendid had accidentally rubbed his scent all over during their time of Flippy's heat and his first rut.

After fussing over the couch a few times, trying to get things right, he heard a knock on the door, instantly he was there, his speed causing the curtains to his windows to flutter up in protest from his speed. Opening the door he spotted Flippy with his arms full with to-go bags, he gave Splendid a little smile over the top of the bags. Splendid could only stand there for a moment, struck by seeing that partial smile, even now Flippy wasn't used to smiling completely, always appearing nervous to show his happiness. It took all his restraint not to sweep Flippy up into his arms and kiss him until he chased away all those reserves. Instead, he gently took the bags from Flippy, not wanting him to have to carry them any longer.

"I'm glad you managed to come over, its been a long day and I could use a bit of happiness right about now." He leaned over to place a kiss on Flippy's cheek, causing the shorter male's cheeks to pinkened as he let out a small laugh. Splendid's heart did a little flip at the sound, he had to pull away, leading them into the living room so he could set out the food on the coffee table. "Get comfy and I'll get us some drinks!" Not wanting to be apart from Flippy for very long now that he had the omega here and so close, he rushed to the kitchen to make them both some lemonade, with three cubes of ice and even a little slice of lemon wedged on the rim. When it came to all things food and drink, Splendid was a perfectionist and a show off.

Returning, he set the glasses on the table and took up a spot on the couch beside Flippy, the food was momentarily ignored by him, but not by Flippy. Instead, Flippy had already started to dig in and Splendid took the opportunity to reach over and brush a bit of that feathery green hair out of his face, causing Flippy to look over at him with a softening look. It seemed Splendid wasn't the only one who missed the others' touch. "How was your day, Flip." He asked softly, almost mesmerized by being able to take in the sight of the veteran after a long day of going without, not even being able to hear his quiet but steady voice.

"It was nice, though it was really slow today, but I guess that's how it is on the weekdays." Splendid was relieved to hear that, he'd rather Flippy have a quiet and slow day rather than the average day in Happy Tree. At the thought of Flippy having one of those days, he felt a bit chilled and his arm curled around Flippy's shoulders to drag him close, into the shelter of his body. The omega let out a surprised noise around a mouthful of food, but was calmed when Splendid nuzzled his face into those vibrant locks. Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhale, letting the comforting scent of junipers sooth away his fear. Flippy would always come back, would always come back to him. "What's wrong, Splendid?"

"Nothing, there's nothing to worry about when I have you."

#htf #splendid #splendont #flippy #omegaverse #happy tree friends #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #conflict #sfw #gore #alpha!splendont #beta!splendid #delta!splendid #omega!flippy #let's go get mojitos #and i'll throw you off a balcony