#no but I got the tent because I felt too anxious and exposed to sleep without it at night

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

My brain has decided everything is too loud and too bright to the degree that the only way I'm able to get myself comfortable is under my weighted blanket hiding with the light off in my light-resistant tent

(I actually sleep in a tent made for a bed, highly recommend if it's an option for nighttime anxiety and light sensitivity :3)

#I want to ramble about my tent suddenly lol #no but I got the tent because I felt too anxious and exposed to sleep without it at night #and it legitimately helped my anxiety about it so much #plus anxiety about like being caught awake goes way down and if you're like me and your brain goes off #and makes scenarios about people stealing in the middle of the night #you're in a tent! you can hide! it's so much nicer! #uhh basically get a tent bed it's amazing XD #and I get to hide in it even when light happens #you can sleep. whenever you want. regardless of how much light keeps you up. #okay that might be a stretch BUT it does significantly reduce the amount of light getting in and if you have low to no light out of the tent #it's pitch black inside #I love it #mine has a little thing so you can hook up a lantern or whatever #I like to set my stuffie light thing on so the cloud light projection thing goes on the tent roof #it's nice #it does trap a lot of hot air though

[starlightkenobi]

Can you do an Anakin one shot where you two have been life long friends and you both realize you’re in love with each other? Smut is totally acceptable lol! I absolutely love your writing!!

hell yeah! (watching season 6 ep 6 of tcw for those immaculate anakin vibes while writing this 🥴) and i may have gone down a “wanting to suck anakin skywalkers dick” train of thought and couldnt stop thinking about it so this happened

also anakin calls the reader baby a lot in this cause im feeling some type of way after seeing that anakin baby video,,, anakins bitches gc you know what im talking about

Just Friends // Anakin x Reader

rating: explicit

warnings: oral (giving), dom anakin, praise kink, use of the names master/kitten

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Three loud knocks on the door to your quarters startled you awake. That is, it would have startled you awake if you were able to fall asleep in the first place. It was pretty common for you to struggle with sleeping, but some nights were better than others. Tonight was not one of those nights. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you were relieved for the sudden knock at your door because you knew exactly who was behind it.

Not caring that you were only in an over sized t-shirt that stretched past mid thigh and covered your underwear, you made your way to the door as quickly as you could without stumbling in the dark. Once you opened it, you were greeted by a familiar sight, Anakin, his face red and his eyes puffy, both from crying and from sleep deprivation. Tear tracks stained his face that you could see glistening in the moonlight. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Anakin immediately returned the display of affection, his body trembling.

“It’s okay, it’s okay now. I’m here. I’ve got you.” You pulled away, rubbing your hands up and down his sides in a comforting motion. He didn’t even need to ask to come in. This exact event had happened so many times that the second you took his hand in your own, he just followed you inside.

You and Anakin had been friends since you were both very young, just children training as padawans. You grew up together, and as the years passed, you became inseparable. You had always been very close, but as you both became adults, you began to do things that some (especially the council) would consider odd for “just friends” to be doing. One of these things was Anakin’s late night visits. He always struggled with nightmares ever since he was a little boy. As his best friend, of course you knew this. But as he got older, instead of going away, they got worse. More gruesome. So, to combat his sleeplessness and fear, he would stop by your quarters so that you could hold him and comfort him, and he would fall asleep peacefully in your bed.

Still holding his hand, you guided him to your bed through the darkness, pulling back the covers and sitting down. You slid over, leaving a spot for him to curl up next to you. He eagerly took the opportunity, sliding into bed and into your open arms. You were safe, shelter from the storm that was his constant nightmares. Even in his own bed, he never felt at home, not until he was in yours. 

Anakin knew what this meant, he wasn’t stupid. But he was also in denial. He was trying to deny it, at least. However, tonight was different. Anakin had a dream about losing you tonight. He was used to having these types of dreams, where you would die and he would stand by helpless. But tonight, it was him who killed you. He was especially shaken up about this one, and immediately rushed to your aid.

Now, here he was, nuzzling into your neck and holding you against him. More like crushing you, afraid that if he didn’t, you would disappear and leave him. You would be lying if you said that Anakin wasn’t your only safe place too, so it was actually comforting feeling him crush you in his arms. You moved one of your hands free, tangling it in his hair and massaging his scalp gently. Anakin had a thing for you playing with his hair, it always managed to soothe him. Occasionally it would cause a very specific problem, one that Anakin would have to take care of himself in the morning. You pretended not to notice for his sake, but you noticed every time. It didn’t necessarily bother you, in fact, it caused a very specific problem of your own. But you were also in a similar state of wanting to deny any “more than just friends” feelings that you had.

Tonight though, Anakin was tired of denying. He was feeling extremely bold. So, brought his head back from the crook of your neck, now face to face with you. You gave him a puzzled look. Usually in these scenarios, he would just pass out in your arms and sleep like a baby after some “friendly” cuddling. 

It was now his turn to lace his fingers through your hair, combing through the strands gently. Even in the dark room, only dimly lit by the moon from outside your window, your eyes shown. He moved his other hand that had been gripping your waist to your cheek, brushing the soft skin with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful...” He murmured, almost in awe. As if he had known it all this time, but this was the first time that he was truly admitting it to himself.

“Anakin...” You didn’t know what else to say. You waited for him to do something, to make a move while he brought his face closer to yours. Tentatively, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your mouth hung agape, completely at a loss for words. You felt like you had been waiting for this for an eternity, but now that it was happening, you were stunned. He pulled away, leaving the ball in your court. He was waiting for you to give him some sort of sign that it was okay for him to continue. You knew that he was waiting for your permission, but you didn’t know what to say. You wanted everything from him, his lips, his hands, his cock, you just didn’t know how to form the right words to ask him for it. Panicking, you blurted out the only thing that you knew for certain, the only thing that felt right. “I love you!” It was true, you did love him more than anything in the galaxy, and finally being able to admit it to both him and yourself was a feeling of relief unparalleled. He understood what you meant, immediately knew what you wanted. He always knew. 

His lips crashed against yours, his hand gripping your hair and pulling you towards him with such ferocity that you were left breathless. He growled against your mouth before pulling away to kiss his way down your neck. “I love you. I love you. So much.” He kissed the words into your skin, and you couldn’t help but moan as he decided to leave deep purple marks on your neck. You could have scolded him, pushed him off so that he wouldn’t leave obvious marks that everyone would be able to notice, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to mark you up. You wanted to belong to him.

He moved you like a ragdoll, rolling you over so that you were on your back and he could tower above you. His hands traveled up and down your sides, your shirt riding up and exposing your bare thighs to him. “Is this alright, love?” He knew that this was what you wanted, but he needed to ask your permission before he took this any further.

Enthusiastically, you nodded. “More than alright.” Your voice was breathy and eager.

Anakin hummed a response deep in his throat that made you shiver. “That’s my good girl.”

You knew thay you were in for it now. You had seen this dominant persona in Anakin before, whether he was placing his hand on the small of your back in a public setting or rushing in to “save you” from a group of droids, even though you totally had it covered. In general, Anakin Skywalker was just a very protective and dominant person. This however, was on another level, a level that you were pleasantly surprised and extremely turned on by.

Anakin grabbed the hem of your shirt, letting you lean forward so that he could tug it off of you. “My good girl.” His tone was so deep and dominant that it sent chills through your body. Anakin noticed, chuckling. “Awww, baby...I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already trembling for me.” A smirk tugged at his lips and he ran his hands over your now bare chest. He reached your breasts, pinching each nipple between his fingers. You mewled, your sensitive nipples sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

It was here that you realized how overdressed Anakin was. Impatient, you reached towards him, making a grabby hands motion until you could stretch far enough to claw at his clothes. “Alright, baby. I know.” His hands left your body, making you whine. “Be patient, baby.” Slowly, to make sure that he was teasing you, he undressed himself. Every time you reached out to touch him, he smacked your hand away and told you to wait.

“Anakin...” You groaned, staring at his bulge with wide eyes. You could have sworn you were drooling.

“You want it that bad, huh baby?” He traced his fingers over the outline of his bulge, letting out a shaky breath at the feeling of finally getting some friction.

“Please Ani...” You moaned as you spoke, dreaming about being able to hold his cock, to make him feel good, to feel him inside of you.

Anakin chuckled, slowly pulling down his boxers and letting his erection spring free. If you weren’t drooling before, you sure as hell were now. All of a sudden, the thought of having him burried in your cunt left your mind. You wanted him in your mouth. You wanted to feel the weight of him on your tongue. You wanted to make him feel good after everything he’d already been through tonight.

Anakin noticed you staring, but he didn’t mind. He thought it was adorable. “Darling, you’re gonna have to tell me what you want.” Anakin’s erection bobbed as he moved to crawl back on top of you.

You cleared your throat, desperate but still anxious to tell him what you wanted. Trying to speak, you opened your mouth but no words came out, leading to you just staring at his cock with your mouth agape. Anakin lips formed a soft smile, the kind he gave whenever he wanted to reassure you that everything would turn out alright, and that he was here for you. Anakin’s smiles always seemed to have that affect on you, whether it was intended or not. “It’s alright, baby. You know that I’ll give you whatever you need.” His hand moved over to your face, brushing the hair out of your eyes gently.

Finally, feeling reassured and a little more confident, you stuttered out a response. “I w-want...to make you feel good. I want your cock in my mouth. Let me taste you Ani, please.”

Anakin smirked, surprised at first by your filthy mouth, but still definitely very pleased. “Of course, baby.” Anakin cooed, rolling you both over so that you were now straddling him. Slowly, you slid you way down his body, your hands tracing over his toned chest until they rested on his thighs. Your tongue darted over your lips, already almost moaning at the thought of having his cock resting on your tongue.

Tentatively, you took his cock in your hand, realizing how huge he was in comparison. Your thumb swiped over the head, gathering the precum onto your finger and bringing your hand back down to the base. Anakin immediately groaned at the contact, his fists tangling in the sheets impatiently. Now you realized how much power you had over this situation. Smirking, you ran your tongue up his entire length, never breaking eye contact with him.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl. I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” Anakin growled, warning you. You giggled at the prospect of that, fantasizing what he might to do you. Now, you were feeling bold. Ready to test the boundaries a little bit.

“Is that a promise, master?” You giggled, eager to see how far you could push him.

Anakin’s hand immediately reached down to tangle in your hair forcefully. “Keep it up kitten, and I’ll be sure to fuck that smart mouth of yours.” Fuck, you felt your pussy clench and you moaned at his words. “You like that, huh baby? You like being my little kitten?” Anakin’s voice was low in his throat and so damn dominant that you couldn’t help but whine. He chuckled, nodding at the confirmation to his own theory. “You do...you love being master’s little kitten.” He paused, giving your hair a sharp tug. “But if you want to be master’s good kitten, you’re going to have to suck me off, alright baby?”

You nodded, giving a little “Mhm!” in affirmation. Already, you were wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. Anakin moaned immediately at the feeling of your warm mouth.

“That’s it...good girl, just like that.” He kept his hand in your hair, helping you ease down onto his length until you couldn’t take anymore, your hands wrapping around the rest. “Good kitten. That’s perfect, you’re doing so good for me.” Anakin groaned as you eased yourself up and down his length. You gagged a little when he hit the back of your throat, but you quickly got used to his size.

Anakin guided you through it, his hands stroking your hair and giving you praise along the way. “Perfect...suck a little, kitten. Just like that, ugh yes, that’s it.” He was quickly losing control, thrusting his hips up so that you could take him deeper. The moans that were filling the room were heavenly, you couldn’t imagine anything hotter if you tried. You were dripping now, most likely soaking through your underwear. You moaned around his length, sending vibrations that caused him to release an almost feral growl.

Anakin was almost fucking your throat at this point, and you dug your nails into his thighs to ground yourself. “Ugh, fuck! Look at me, kitten.” Your eyes, previously closed, snapped up to his. A single tear slid down your cheek, most likely due to you surpressing the urge to gag around him. “You’re gorgeous, kitten. Such a beautiful baby. How did I get so lucky...fuck.” His eyes shone a deep blue that flickered in the moonlight, and his mouth hung agape while he groaned in pleasure and praised you. “Keep going darling, I...” He trailed off, but he didn’t even need to finish his sentence, you knew what he was going to say.

Shakily, Anakin pulled you off of his length by your hair, using his free hand to stroke himself. He was babbling a string of praises while your mouth hung open, waiting for his release to land on your tongue. “So perfect baby, you’re so perfect, I love you so much...fuck!” Strands of hot cum landed on your tongue and around your mouth, and you moaned as a pang of arousal shot through you. As his cum filled your mouth, you realized just how badly you were craving to be touched.

You closed your mouth, savoring the taste of something so entirely him. Swallowing, your eyes trailed over his heaving chest to meet his. Anakin moaned, feeling another tinky spike of post orgasm pleasure as he saw you swallowing his seed. His hand stroked through your hair gently, comforting you. “That was perfect, kitten. You’re so good to me.” You smiled, basking in the praise, but wiggled your hips impatiently as you were now craving some kind of release.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come up here, baby. It’s your turn.”

#star wars #fanfic #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader

[obx-adventures]

The Fall

Summary: Grace just moved from Figure Eight to the Cut. She never expected to run into her old friend, Kiara, and discover she lives next door to JJ Maybank.

Catch up on Ch 1

——

Chapter 2

“Mom, I’m home.” Grace sets down her keys and kicks off her shoes in relief. She’s been working almost every day at The Wreck since JJ asked Kiara if they were hiring.

It’s been 3 weeks and 2 days since she officially became a Pogue. Everyday has been spent with them either before or after her shifts and today is no different. JJ is supposed to pick her up in 30 minutes, giving her time to check on her mom and shower before having the rest of the day to herself.

“Mom? Are you here?” Grace walks into her mom’s room and discovers her passed out on her bed with a mostly empty bottle of vodka on her bedside table. Unfortunately, this has become a common occurrence since their move a month ago. Amanda Porter has begun searching for solace at the bottom of the bottle, leaving Grace to fend for both of them.

Grace takes the vodka bottle to the bathroom with her and empties it before climbing into the shower. As she rests her head against the tiled wall, she allows a few tears to stream down her face while she thinks about her new life. Grace has reveled in having real friends for the first time but can’t help the sorrow she feels over her mom’s depression and dad’s absence. Paul Porter has never been World’s Greatest Dad material but it doesn’t make Grace miss him any less or dull the ache in her heart over not speaking with him all this time. She has tried to call or text him every day since he kicked her and her mom out but he continues to ignore her.

Grace shakes her head to snap out of her downward spiral. While she washes her hair, she reminds herself of the positive changes in her life. First and foremost are Kiara and JJ. Kiara has welcomed her with open arms into her life - introducing her to the Pogues, getting her the waitressing job at The Wreck, and reminding her everyday that she has a new family. JJ is a horse of a different color. He constantly surprises her with his thoughtfulness and sense of humor but he doesn’t treat her differently because of her home situation. Grace catches herself watching him more often than she cares to admit and still feels tingly when he touches her. But what’s weird is how she’s pretty sure she feels him watching her too when she’s talking with someone else.

Grace towels off and gets dressed quickly when she notices that JJ will be there any minute. As if summoned by her thoughts, she hears the van pull up in front of her house. Before leaving, Grace leaves a note and glass of water for her mom but is almost certain that she’ll still be passed out when Grace gets home later.

“Hi, JJ. Thanks for picking me up.” Grace clambers into the van and smiles at JJ. He’s been watching her closely over the past couple weeks and knows this isn’t her real smile, which is bright enough to warm JJ’s heart from a mile away.

“What’s wrong?” He reaches over to clasp her hand and feels the familiar spark that he’s beginning to associate only with her.

“Just a long shift. I’m ok. What’s on the agenda for today?” JJ studies her face and decides that there is something more there but doesn’t push her. He’s growing accustomed to her reserved demeanor, which has been a bigger adjustment than he thought.

All the Pogues are really open with each other about their good, bad, and stupid thoughts and feelings. But Grace is different and JJ is trying his best to give her the space she needs to open up to him.

“Well if you want me to bring you home early tonight, just let me know. Or you can take a nap at JB’s. Or crash there tonight. Whatever you want.” JJ silently cursed himself for sounding so frazzled. What is it with this girl?!

“JJ, I told you that you don’t have to drive me home every night. I’ve gotten used to The Cut and can just walk like I do after my shifts.”

“You’re walking home after work?! Kie said she was driving you.”

“She usually does but there are days when we don’t work the same shifts. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is. Let me know what days she can’t drive you home and I’ll pick you up.”

“That’s silly! I am perfectly capable of walking by myself.”

“Not the point. It’s not safe.”

“What are you talking about? You know this neighborhood better than I do and you know no one in The Cut would hurt me.” JJ finds himself backed into a corner. He doesn’t want Grace to end up running into his dad on her way home but he doesn’t want her to know that either.

“Grace, please... most of our neighbors are great and we all look out for each other but there are a couple people who I don’t want you to run into. Please trust me and let me protect you.”

Grace is taken aback by the desperation in JJ’s voice. This is the closest he’s come to explaining to her what he’s worried about and she can’t help thinking that this is personal to him. The pleading look in his cerulean eyes is enough to get her to nod in agreement.

“Thank you.” He notices that his hand is still holding hers and softly brushes his thumb over her delicate skin. She fidgets nervously and her cheeks flush pink. When he’s driving to the Chateau moments later, he can’t help thinking the pink tinge was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

——

Grace tumbles out of bed at 1:30am when she’s woken up by insistent knocking on her window. She immediately thinks back to JJ’s alarm earlier in the day upon discovering that she’s walked through The Cut without him and worried that he was right. She tentatively approaches her window and sighs in relief when she recognizes JJ’s blond locks. She opens the window quickly, confusion quickly replacing relief.

“JJ, what the hell are you doing here?” When he turns to look at her, she gasps at his bloodied face. “Oh my God! What happened?”

“Look, I’m really sorry to wake you up but can you please let me in? Fast?” Grace lifts up the window screen so JJ can climb through. Once he’s inside, she leads him to the bathroom to clean him up.

She begins to silently clean his wounds while JJ watches her anxiously. Grace jumps when she hears a man bellowing out in front of her house.

“You little son of a bitch! You can’t run from me for long! Get your ass back here and face me like a man!” She looks to JJ, hoping for an explanation for all of this, but is saddened to see his face drooping in defeat. Before she can second guess herself, she pulls him in for a hug and holds him close until he hugs her back. She feels tears dropping onto her exposed shoulder and holds him tighter.

“That bastard is my father...” Grace continues to hold JJ as he tries to explain. “I don’t even know what I did this time.” Grace turns her head to kiss his cheek and tries to think of how to respond.

“I’m so sorry... I’m glad you felt you could come here.”

“Please don’t tell the others. JB knows and I’m sure Pope and Kie suspect but I don’t want to get into the details and see their pity. I didn’t even want you to know... I usually go the Chateau when this happens... but I needed... it doesn’t matter.”

Grace pulls back to study his face, desperate to understand how she can help him. JJ reluctantly meets her eyes and is surprised to only find concern. They hold each other’s gazes for a minute and jump apart when Grace’s mother bursts into the bathroom.

“Who the hell are you?” Amanda slurs at JJ. The pungent smell of alcohol rolling off her.

“Uh, mom, this is my friend JJ. Remember, I told you about him. I met him through Kiara.” Grace refuses to look at JJ, despite feeling his eyes on her, while her mom tries to process the half-ass introduction.

“What is he doing here? It’s late.”

“He got hurt and didn’t have any first aid supplies at his house. We’ll get out of here so you can use the bathroom.” Grace walks out of the bathroom without even a glance at JJ. She hears him mumble hello to her mom and leads him into the kitchen to continue cleaning him up. She regrets this decision quickly when she sees the empty alcohol bottles next to the garbage can.

JJ is more than a little confused by the turn of events. He went from worry about what Grace would think of him to worry for Grace in a matter of minutes. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he tries to talk with her.

“Grace, were you worried about your mom when I picked you up this afternoon?”

“Uh... yea... She was already passed out when I got home from work.” JJ has to inch closer to her to hear what she’s saying. He’s learned that she gets really quiet when she’s embarrassed or anxious so he tries to lighten the mood.

“And here I was planning on giving Kie’s dad a piece of my mind for working you so hard.” When Grace remains silent as she works on cleaning the last cut on his face, he catches her hand in his and lifts her chin with his other hand. “Listen, I’m here for you if you need to talk. You heard my dad, he wasn’t exactly sober. To be honest, he hasn’t been since my mom left us. But we can take care of each other, ok?”

JJ’s words cause Grace’s internal dam to break. She breaks down against his chest and, for the first time in her life, allows someone else to support her. He runs his hand up and down her back as she sobs and soon starts crying with her. When both of their tears run dry, they head back into Grace’s room, both feeling a little awkward.

“Do you want to stay here tonight? I don’t want you going home if you’ll be in danger.” Grace’s offer surprises both of them but JJ quickly accepts.

After getting settled in her bed, JJ turns to Grace and brushes her hair out of her face. He lets his hand rest tenderly on her cheek and gently slides his thumb back and forth until she falls asleep. He watches her sleep for a while and tries to figure out what is happening between them. JJ has had crushes before but this feels different and is a little disconcerting. But when Grace starts mumbling in her sleep, he can’t help but smile and feel thankful to have her in his life. Her slow, deep breaths soothe him and he eventually drifts off feeling at peace.

Ch 3

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters.

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee @alexa-playafricabytoto @mendesmaybank @teamnick @laurenyee09 @prejudic3 @teaheee

#jj obx imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x you #jj x oc #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank obx #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank series #outer banks x oc #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks series #obx netflix #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx series

[suknas]

First Line Tag Game II

Tagged by @ruluxe (who dared to say that I have fanfics that I'm "holdin out on us" -- it is true tho lol)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do this! (I'm not sure which authors are still active here ;-;)

Now we all know how inconsistent I am. But I do like starting with what's going on with the characters/where they are... Don't I? Well I decided to start with the most recent published ones, descending to the first ones published (skipping some), and finally some of my WIP/"One day I will finish" fanfics.

Quick fun fact: I didn't remember writing most of those fanfics lol

So here we go!!!! (it's gonna be a bumpy ride)

1. Into the Storm [GrimmIchi]: The lightning and thundering's brightness and strong noises were slicing the dark-blue sky of a lonely and sleepless night. A storm was coming. The heavy rain and gusts of wind were not the only thing rapidly creeping through the night. Kurosaki Ichigo could sense something else approaching along with the dark clouds and the pouring rain that now was hitting his window. [2021 (but the draft was from 2017 maybe), Bleach]

2. Ascension [AoKaga]: Light appeared in the darkness and soon darkness became insignificant before the beauty and immensity of the bright light surrounding a tall and masculine figure. He walked calmly through the uncertain route that many others once also stepped into it. He had a goal. The time to seek the one whom he had once shared many memories with, good and bad. The one person whom he had loved immensely but had never gotten to experience that feeling truly and at its fullest. The time had finally come. [2021 (again the draft was probably from 2016), Kuroko no Basket]

3. The One Where Prompto Does Not Want To Be In The Middle [Gladios x Prompto x Noctis x Ignis]: Sleeping in the camping tent was always a challenge in Prompto’s opinion. It is not as if he does not like camping, it was pretty nice being able to sit under the stars and gaze them, it was relaxing. Sometimes Noctis would sit behind him, embracing him in a warm hug. They would spend a long time chatting and exchanging affectionate touches until both of them felt like sleeping. Other times Gladio would join him, and the shield would let the blond lay his head on his lap. More often than not Prompto ended up sleeping while feeling his hair being played by dexterous and caring fingers. And whenever Ignis had time to spare, he would also join him after cleaning the mess they did during dinner. [2020 (again the draft was maybe from 2017), Final Fantasy XV]

4. The Owl Who Got Caught [KuroTsuki + Bokuto]: The third day of the training camp was finally over. Soon, everybody was running to the school cafeteria to grab something to eat. In the meantime, while nobody was looking, Kuroo took the opportunity to take Tsukishima’s hand, guiding him to the room that the Nekoma team was sharing; closing the door right after they entered. Nekoma and Karasuno’s middle blockers became closer ever since their first practice game, now they were spending more time together, and their relationship had an unexpected development. [2020 (draft probably from 2017), Haikyuu]

5. A Boyfriend Text [KuroTsuki]: Laying in his bed with a smile on the lips Kuroo was texting his sweet strawberry shortcake boyfriend. Eyes rapt, staring at the bright screen in the dark room; he was feeling anxious if his stupid smile and trembling fingers were any indicator.

TETSUROU: Wanna come over this weekend?

It had been some weeks since they had the opportunity to meet; school and volleyball practice were mostly the reason for their inevitable long separation. Week after week something "magically" came up in their agendas, but Kuroo was hopeful, however, that maybe this time their schedules would finally allow them to meet. [2020, Haikyuu]

6. Domestic Bliss [KiriBaku]: Sitting comfortably on the couch, Kirishima and Bakugou were finally spending some time together after a rough week. It was one of those rare days where both could enjoy a peaceful and uneventful afternoon. To say that both men were lazily on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive was not very accurate. Bakugou was doing something with his spear time, he was reading a book. By his focused attention on the pages, anyone could tell that he was enjoying his reading and only someone stupid would dare to bother him. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

7. Getting Together [KiriBaku]: “Let’s grab something to eat!” The blonde shouted after stretching his arms above his head. Bakugou’s red eyes fixed on the figure of Kirishima, who was sitting comfortably in bed with his back against the headboard.The redhead’s own red eyes snapped at the figure on the chair, eyeing him from head to toe; he spaced out in no second. Kirishima wanted to touch those damn nice muscled arms, which were slowly lowered down while his hands were placed on his toned thighs. Kirishima couldn’t help himself and started to imagine Bakugou’s whole body underneath him wrapping his body with those strong legs and arms. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

8. AoKaga short stories collection [AoKaga]: The atmosphere of the place was hot and heavy. However, because of that, the two teens lying down on the bed were more connected than ever. Their bare bodies were united white skin with dark skin. Their breaths were out of rhythm and their hands slid skillfully on each other’s bodies. The movements were synchronized and intense. The pleasurable moans and whispers echoed in the dark room, making the place even more delightful for both of them. [2017 - Short Story #4, Kuroko no Basket]

9. It's Picture Time! [Pomptis]: In the Regalia, Prompto and Ignis were heading to the nearest outpost from their camping spot to get some supplies for the night. The sun on the horizon was almost hiding behind the tree path by Prompto’s right side, the scenery formed by dim light and shadowy dark spots caught Prompto’s eyes.“Wow! Look at the light, it’s amazing!” the blond shouted, “Can’t we stop just for a bit?” Prompto was thrilled by the idea of adding more photos to his portfolio. [2017, Final Fantasy XV]

10. That Side of You [MiSawa]: Miyuki was laying in the bed on his back, eyes glassy, hands shaking and skin hot. The body above his was driving him to a place where it was absolute bliss and pleasure. Hips moved together, swinging with movements that were making Miyuki moans the pitcher’s name in a short and breathless tone.“Sa-wamura– Aah! Do that again,” his voice low and hoarse made the order sound weak, and his usual snarky tone was lost a long time ago in some part of his foggy mind. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

11. Runaround [Sterek]: Everything was set neatly on the kitchen table. Stiles was going to be there soon, so Derek had already prepared every single book and even snacks that they may need for their studying.It wasn't new that both of them were hanging out for studying matters. Actually, Derek had come up with the idea first, mainly because he was having some issues involving fast heartbeats and some inconvenient hard-ons whenever Stiles was around. He had a ridiculous crush on his friend. However, the smart geek boy didn't have to know about that. [2016, Teen Wolf]

12. Eavesdropping [MiSawa]: Sawamura’s suspicions must be right for his sake. Otherwise, Miyuki would make sure his so careless kouhai would pay a high price for being so noisy about Kuramochi and Ryou-senpai making out when no one was seeing. The closed and almost claustrophobic locker didn’t have enough space to move around, but he and Sawamura managed to fit in somehow. So what? They were eavesdropping, and he still couldn’t say that he was regretting this. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

13. Sterek Short Stories Collection [Sterek]: Stiles had broken up with his last boyfriend a couple of months ago. Or it was what he usually says to Scott when his best friend asks him why he isn’t over his past relationship. Because according to Scott, it’s been a year and a half since Stiles had parted ways with, at the time, his other half. And right now it was one of those times.“You should move on. I haven't seen you with no one since then. What about Danny? Last night I saw him flirting with you, and when I looked again you were nowhere to be found, but Danny was still there drinking alone. And let not forget your grumpy humor because your sex life sucks. It's getting old bro.” [2015 - Short Story #3, Teen Wolf]

14. Urge [AoKaga]: The small public bathroom stall in that bar hadn't been made for sure to accommodate two giants, dumbasses, and impulsive basketball players. Nevertheless, this fact wasn’t that important for the Too player neither to the Seirin player. Kagami was already pressing his body against Aomine’s, who was stuck between the wall and Kagami while his mouth was being devoured by the other’s tongue. Both were fighting into that kiss as if there was no tomorrow. Their hands were traveling quickly by each other’s body, and quickly they were undoing their pants’ zippers and buttons. Their shirts were all messy, as well as their hair. Their breaths were heavy, and the kisses now were directed to their necks, sucking and biting the skin exposed. Soft moans could be heard, but not loud enough to echo in the bathroom. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

15. After Dancing Lessons [AoKaga]: The music was set up, and his hips started to move, his steps were guiding him to where a dark skinned guy was sat on a chair. The dancer's eyes were fixed in front of him. The watcher's eyes sparkled with excitement when the other sat on his lap, one leg on each side of his body, and kissed his cheeks along to his lips and chin, returning the same way till his ear, biting there slightly. The dancer felt the other hands trying to take his clothes off and immediately stood up, preventing to have those hands on his body so easily. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

16. Sleep Well [ZoSan]: The night was agitated on board of the Sunny and lots of dirty dishes were pilled up on a corner of the sink. Sanji didn't have this time someone to help him to clean everything up. 'Those lazy bastards!' He frowned, 'all right! Let’s put all these things in their right place!' And with that thought, Sanji started the tiring process of doing all the dishes. On the bright side, if he was the one doing it everything would be spot on in no time. [2013, One Piece]

17. Possessive Lover [KidLaw / LawLu]: The bell indicating the change of periods rang and the students gradually began to leave one room to proceed to another. In the middle of changing classrooms, some students went to a quick trip to the bathroom, which was where that a spiky redhead boy was heading to. He had a dangerous gaze gleaming in his golden eyes; he had quite a threatening presence, and his looks did not lie about his fiery and explosive personality. Any sane person would prefer to avoid crossing paths with him or to even look the boy in the eyes. [2012, One Piece]

18. English Lesson [WIP, AoKaga]: The room was a mess. There were a lot of magazines, books, sheets, some snacks, three soda bottles, two hoodies and two pairs of sneakers all thrown on the floor. Sitting side by side, in front of the center table with notebooks and pens in hands were Kagami and Aomine. They had that idea of starting to study at each other’s places every Thursday night after their club activities. It was not like they liked to take a book, read it and think about the subject, the matter here was way bigger than just casual study. Their grades were in the red mark, which meant that they needed to rise them at least not to get scolded and taken off the basketball team. This time around Kagami was helping Aomine with his English study. The redhead was doing his best to try to explain, but he wasn’t that good at teaching those so detailed grammatical things… [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

19. High heels [WIP, KuroTsuki]: Tsukishima walked all proud on a black suit, white button-up shirt, grey tie and black stilettos in the room. Kuroo was watching his slow movements with a fierce look from the bed, where he was sat with his hands tied to the headboard by a soft cloth. Tsukishima stopped at the bed foot, looking straight at Kuroo. Ever so slowly, Tsukishima’s hands loosened the tie around his neck, the button-up shirt was having his buttons calmly undone, soon the shirt was wide open reviling Tsukishima's snow-white skin for Kuroo’s delight. [unknown year - present, Haikyuu]

20. Christmas thing / The untitled fanfic [WIP, AoKaga]: It was Christmas the snow was falling outside, many sparkle lights, so many decorations everywhere, people receiving and giving presents, eating together and singing songs. A day to celebrate and stay with family and friends. A day full of joy and happiness.At Kagami's house every single tradition was made. Kagami invited the Seirin basketball team to celebrate, but it ended up with some unexpected guests, the self-invited guests were some of Touou basketball team. And of course, Aomine Daiki was there. The redhead didn't even want to know how Aomine had found out about his little party. He'd bet that Kuroko had told something to Momoi and she kindly invited Aomine and the rest of the troupe. [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

#ruluxe #tag game #Kuroos got tagged #that was fun and I'm also embarrassed that I wrote some of these lol #aokaga #kurotsuki #grimmichi #sterek #misawa #kiribaku #zosan #lawlu #kidlaw #kuroosden #Kuroos writing again

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas: Chapter 2

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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Chapter 2

[Hermione]

Hermione tugs the pillow off of her head, groaning at the sudden beam of light from the window. The sun is too intense for the morning— based on the afternoon's unbearable heat, she swears her hotel window faces west. She covers her face and groans again, angry at having been pulled out of peaceful sleep.

She opens her eyes to find Ron standing near the bed, staring at her and wearing nothing but a towel wrapped precariously around his hips. Her cheeks blush at the sight of his bare chest. He's pale and a bit scrawny, but he wears it well. She's seen him shirtless before, just a few days ago on the pool deck, but the effect is different in the context of her hotel room.

Did I sleep with him last night?

"Why are you—?" She pauses, unsure how to encompass all of her confusion into one question. He's staring down at her shirt, so she follows his gaze to find she's wearing a bright orange t-shirt with the words Chudley Cannons across the front.

Isn't that the name of the youth football team he coaches?

"Why am I wearing this?" She glances around the room to see that it's a total mess, and the blinding light from the window indicates that it's facing east, not west. This isn't her room. Tentatively, she meets Ron's narrowed eyes. "Why am I here?"

Ron simply gapes at her. Obviously, he's just as confused as she is, and she suddenly feels very exposed.

A few things happen in quick succession. She's busy trying to read the expression on his face when his towel begins to loosen around his hips and falls swiftly to the floor. He tries to catch it, but his hands are occupied — he's clutching his clothes in one and a piece of paper in the other. She doesn't notice his reaction because her eye line instinctively lowers, causing her to blush and bite her lip.

"Morning!" he says, pointedly trying to draw her attention back to his face. He's wearing that fake smile again.

"Ronald Weasley." She hopes her authoritative tone masks her self-consciousness and distracts him from her lingering gaze. "What the hell is going on?"

x

One week earlier…

"I'm Hermione Granger."

She extends a hand to the red-head, one of Ginny's brothers. She feels like an idiot for forgetting his name, but the girl has six brothers. It's bound to happen.

Whatever his name is, his flimsy handshake indicates that he doesn't want to be here. "And you are?"

"I'm Ron." He sounds angry that she doesn't know. "Ron Weasley? The bride's brother? The groom's best friend?" She raises her eyebrows in a way that hopefully looks apologetic. "You really don't know me?"

"I figured," she shrugs, hoping her nonchalance will overshadow her tone of defensiveness. "But most people introduce themselves without assuming others know who they are."

He huffs, and it hits a nerve. Admittedly, she's not great at first impressions, but he already seems determined not to like her.

She fights her urge to call him out on it. She is about to embark on a ten-day international trip to celebrate Ginny's wedding, and as the Maid of Honor, she'll be working closely with Ron and the rest of the wedding party. She wants things to remain friendly between them, even if he won't meet her halfway.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger," he says in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Thanks," she tells him, keeping her voice neutral. She takes a seat and motions to the empty chair across from her. He hesitates, staring at the chair as if expecting her to present a better option. After a moment, he sighs again and sits down.

What is his problem?

He shakes his head impatiently, like an anxious dog that would rather be anywhere else. She wants him to like her, of course, but it's starting to seem like an uphill battle.

Pushing her insecurities aside, she waves down a server, and Ron squirms uncomfortably. What now? The server must sense his contagious discomfort because he grumbles when he approaches. Ron looks expectantly at the server.

"I'll have an iced coffee," she says.

The server nods then glances at Ron. "Oh erm... same, I guess."

"No straws," adds Hermione. Ever since Luna showed her a video of a plastic straw stuck up a sea turtle's nose, she has felt guilty using them.

"Noted," quips the server.

"Actually," says Ron, "I would like a straw."

He looks questioningly at her when the waiter walks off, so she assumes he wants her to explain herself. "Straws are awful for the environment," she says, shrugging. "You really don't need them."

Ron just stares blankly at her. His eyes are such a soft blue shade, which makes their lack of emotion unsettling. He takes an impatient breath. She expects him to say something about straws, so she is quite surprised when he changes the subject. "We should compare itineraries for the bride and groom."

Her heart sinks. She doesn't actually want to talk about straws or sea turtles, but without his acknowledgment of her explanation, her request to the waiter comes off as controlling. She's been called that before, and the memory hurts.

She decides to play along. "Yes, I agree. In fact, I have put together a tentative plan for the joint stag and hen party." She slides a piece of paper across the table to him. Hopefully, he will appreciate her attention to detail and the fact that it's even laminated if they spill their coffee. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem the type to be impressed by organization.

"Hold on," he says. "A joint stag and hen party?"

"Yes, it's more efficient this way. You can see on page four, I've already made reservations at a hotel on The Strip, and for pretty much everything, bigger parties mean bigger discounts."

"Hermione, I think the boys would prefer a separate stag party."

She anticipates his response — Harry has mentioned Ron might be planning something for the boys but could also use the help. "I've already spoken to Harry, and he loves the idea," she said in her best reassuring tone.

A flash of hurt crosses Ron's face. "He… what?"

Is he hoping to plan this all alone? "Yeah, he already agreed to it."

Their conversation pauses as the waiter returns to deliver their iced coffee. Ron pointedly takes a long drag from his plastic straw, and she tries her best not to scowl. It's not worth the power struggle, and it feels like he's trying to pick a fight.

Keep calm, Hermione.

She wonders if he's always like this. Ginny says he's usually an amiable and caring guy. What's changed?

Then the realization hits her. She recalls a recent conversation with Ginny about wedding party drama. Evidently, she only asked Lavender to be in her wedding party because she was dating one of her brothers. Then they broke up, and she was worried things would be awkward and weird.

She looks back at Ron, sitting dejectedly across from her, attacking his coffee with a plastic straw. That brother must be Ron. Hermione leans forward and looks him in the eye. "I know it must be awkward for you to spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend. Ginny told me about the breakup. She wasn't expecting you two to split before the wedding,"

She hopes her tone sounds caring and apologetic, but hurt fills his face again. That's probably why he's so opposed to a joint party. It must be challenging to put aside his pain and heartbreak to focus on the wedding, especially since his ex is part of the festivities. It would be tough for her too.

If only he knew the pain that she's pushing aside right now. They could bond over similar heartache. She's almost tempted to tell him but knows it would fall on deaf ears. "Look, it'll be hard, but we can't let our own personal issues affect this. This wedding is about Harry and Ginny. No one else."

Ron just scowls at her, but it doesn't hurt as much. She's starting to see it as a mask. "What are you saying?"

"I'm asking that we don't bring any unnecessary drama along. Leave it here, and focus on the bride and groom."

"We?"

She nods. "Yes, we. I will also leave my issues at home." Hopefully, her words are enough to hint that he's not going through this alone.

"So no drama at the wedding. None." He takes another swig of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her like he's trying to draw attention to the straw. Infuriating.

"No drama."

"Deal." He reaches out a hand, and she takes it. It's another flimsy handshake that makes his promise feel insincere, but she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Then, something on his face catches her eye. "You've got something on your nose."

When he releases her hand and rubs his nose, she realizes it's one of his many freckles. They're kind of cute — like his eyes, they make him look kind.

His face turns an angry red, suggesting he doesn't feel the same. "Must have been dirt," she says, hoping to avoid pointing out an insecurity.

He smiles at her, but it looks forced. She tries to smile back.

x

Hermione shakes her head to detach herself from the unfortunate memory of their first meeting. Ron has pulled his towel back up over his hips and is currently backing toward the bathroom, still clutching clothes in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. What is so important about that paper?

"I'm going to get dressed," he splutters, followed by a string of profanity before the door shuts and locks.

Hermione groans, dropping her face into her hands to rub her temples. She has a headache, a lump in her throat, and so many questions, but Ron's apparent regret indicates that he doesn't remember much of last night either.

She wonders how much he regrets it. It would be a more straightforward question to answer if she knew what it was. They both had a few too many drinks, and at some point, decided to go to bed together. It's possible that they just went to sleep, but the fact that he was naked and she's wearing his clothes suggests otherwise.

The bathroom door unlocks, and Ron emerges, dressed in khaki shorts and a red button-down. There's something about a ginger man confidently wearing red that makes her smile. "So, erm, good morning. Again." He sounds uncomfortable.

Hermione's head is still pounding. She lowers it back into her hands and takes a deep breath. She feels the bed shift and knows Ron is sitting next to her.

Ron's voice is surprisingly soft when he speaks next. "Are you ok?"

She isn't expecting the question, and it catches her off guard. She hasn't thought much about how she feels; she just wants answers. "I don't know yet. How much of last night do you remember?"

Ron sighs. "Honestly? None of it." He fidgets. Oh god, he is so uncomfortable.

She nods. "Did we have sex last night?"

His face turns crimson red, and he inhales sharply. "I don't know."

"You were naked this morning."

"Yeah," he nods. "I generally sleep naked."

"I'm wearing your clothes."

He glances down at her clothing. "Yes, you are. My favorite t-shirt, actually."

She knows she needs more time to process it all. How could this have happened? She has never had a one-night-stand; in fact, she can still count the number of people she's been with on one hand. She even has a few fingers left to spare.

Her voice is quiet when she speaks next. "Ron, I think we probably did, don't you?"

Ron nods. "Yeah, probably."

Her self-consciousness is overwhelming, and her eyes prickle with tears. The last thing she wants to do is cry in front of Ron, so she tries to mask it by covering her face with her hand. He must think she's a lunatic.

An image of Lavender Brown, Ginny's other bridesmaid, and Ron's ex-girlfriend floods her mind. Lavender and her perfect body that's always dressed in pink, her natural confidence, and her effortless charm. Hermione has seen the way she smiles at Ron and bites her lip like she's plotting how to get him into bed with her. How could Ron resist?

She wonders how many times they've slept together since breaking up and if Ron wishes it was Lavender in his bed instead of her, wearing his boxers and Chudley Cannons t-shirt. The thought ignites a tinge of jealousy. Lavender is probably fantastic in bed, and selfishly, she's thankful Ron doesn't remember, so he can't compare.

Her anxieties are interrupted by his hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Why are you sorry?" He winces when she snaps the question at him, and she internally kicks herself for not having more control over her tone.

He's looking at her with those piercing eyes, so blue that she can hardly look at them directly. At least she can't anymore, but maybe she could last night. "I bet it wasn't a good surprise, waking up next to me."

His words match her feelings, catching her off guard. He must be projecting. "What do you mean?"

He anxiously runs his hands through his hair, tugging at his orange locks until they stick straight out from his head. She's momentarily curious to know, or maybe just remember if his hair feels as soft as it looks. "I'm just sorry it happened."

She lets out a breath that she didn't even know she was holding. "You are?"

"Yeah."

The confirmation of his regret hits her like a punch in the stomach. "Well, how about we pretend it never happened, then?" She rises to her feet and scours the room for her clothes, but she can't find them. Her hotel room is right down the hall, and maybe she can make it there without running into anyone. She wouldn't want to embarrass him by being seen in his clothes.

"Is that what you want? You want to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Yes, of course," she responds, briskly crossing the hotel room to the door. In different circumstances, she might have been thrilled that this happened, but knowing he regrets it…

"Hermione, wait," he says hurriedly, reaching for the paper he had been clutching earlier. "We have a lot more to talk about—"

"No, Ron. We don't." She slips into the hallway, letting the door close behind her. Tears start to fall from her eyes, and she doesn't hear him call her name from inside the room.

#romione fanfic #ROMIONE #romione fanfiction #romione fics #hp fanfiction #hpromione #muggle au

[woodstockbtswriter]

Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: All I have to say is... please enjoy! And, if you do, let me know! Thanks! 💕

GIF Credit: MONOSUGA

Part Fourteen

Goodnight?

You’d hoped Yoongi would stay and talk more, maybe even offer a more thorough explanation as to why he kissed you out of nowhere

But he seemed embarrassed and anxious to retreat

So after shyly bidding you goodnight, he quickly moved toward his tent

Leaving you standing outside the camper van, feeling stunned

Unsure what else to do, you opened the door and climbed in

It was dark in the camper, and the boys inside were already settled in bed

But Hoseok spoke up when you entered, asking if it was you

You responded automatically as you slumped onto your bed, still in a daze

You heard a rustle and could just make out Hoseok propping himself up on one elbow, looking down at you from his high bed

He inquired if you were okay, and you were about to answer him

But then you remembered there were several GoPro cameras tucked into the corners of the camper

You quietly asked if the cameras were off, looking around for any tiny recording lights

Namjoon’s voice sounded from the back, confirming that he turned them all off a few minutes ago

Then he asked if everything was alright, too

“Yoongi kissed me…” You breathed

And you felt a renewed sense of excitement saying it out loud

As soon as the words left you, you heard a bump in the dark, then Hoseok cried out in pain

Jungkook’s laugh rang out from beside him, and you realized Hoseok sat up reflexively and hit his head on the ceiling

You, Namjoon, and Taehyung laughed too, and you asked Hoseok if he was hurt

Hoseok dismissed the question, saying he was fine as he hurried to climb down the ladder

Reaching the floor, he quickly moved to sit cross-legged beside you, grabbing both of your hands and holding them in his lap

Hoseok beamed at you, practically giddy, and urged you to tell him everything

Spilling the Tea

Namjoon flipped a small light on, and you saw him, Taehyung, and Jungkook all sitting up in bed, their faces shining with interest

You suddenly felt a little shy, but you knew everyone there cared about you and Yoongi, and wanted both of you to be happy

And you trusted the boys to keep anything you told them confidential

So you opened up, and told them the whole story

How you and Yoongi had been getting to know each other, and growing close

How Yoongi held your hand at the observatory, and in the hot tub

How he let you sleep on his shoulder, and rested his head on yours

How you stayed up talking the night before, and really connected

How the producers had noticed you spending so much time together, and requested that you participate with the other members instead 

How Yoongi got the wrong idea, and thought you were avoiding him because you like Namjoon

And how when you promised him there was no reason for him to be jealous, he unexpectedly kissed you

The boys all grinned as they listened, and when you finished describing everything that happened, you expected they’d be surprised

But Taehyung said he wasn’t 

He knew his hyung liked you, and could see there was something happening between you

Hoseok and Jungkook agreed, though they hadn’t expected Yoongi to make the first move, especially so soon

Namjoon was a little surprised Yoongi had been jealous of him though, and reassured you that he knew you were just friends

But all of the boys were excited for you, and happy that their hyung had opened himself up to you

You thanked them, saying you were really happy and excited too

And you shyly admitted that you really like - maybe even love - Yoongi

When you said that, Hoseok pulled you into a crushing hug

But you had to ask them if they thought his intentions were serious, if they thought he actually wanted a relationship

After a moment’s consideration, Jungkook stated he’d never seen Yoongi with a girlfriend

And Namjoon explained that dating had been a low priority for him since their debut, because he’d been focused on his career

But he was sure that if Yoongi met someone he was truly interested in, someone he genuinely connected with, someone who could convince him that a relationship was worth it…

Someone like…

You

Then he would adjust his priorities accordingly

Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook agreed, adding that they’d never seen Yoongi so comfortable, so open, so affectionate with anyone so soon

And he wasn’t one to waste any time or energy on something he didn’t plan to see through

So, based on the evidence they’d seen and how well they knew their hyung...

They felt confident promising you that Yoongi was definitely serious about you

Hearing their affirmations brought happy tears to your eyes, and Hoseok “aww”ed when he noticed, giving you another tight hug

Real Talk

You were so relieved that the other members confirmed your hope that Yoongi liked you

But knowing how he felt about you was only one part of the equation

Because before you started a relationship, you knew you had to consider what dating an international idol would really be like

So you asked the boys, not knowing when you’d get another chance to talk with them so candidly

A relationship with one of them would be hard, all four boys concurred

Besides the hectic schedules, endless workload, and constant traveling, there was extremely limited privacy, constant scrutiny, and immense pressure to maintain the right image

Some of which you’d already experienced

But, Namjoon encouraged, it wasn’t impossible

And he knew that Yoongi would give his all to make things work, and would care for you deeply

As long as you did the same

You appreciated the honesty, and thanked the boys for their insight and encouragement

Hoseok squeezed your hand, swearing that he and his brothers would be there for you and help you in any way they could

Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook all nodded, and you felt your eyes start to water again

Hoseok wiped your tears, chuckling, and suggested that maybe it was time for you to go to sleep

You reluctantly agreed, and Namjoon turned out the light as soon as Hoseok climbed back into his own bed

Then, slipping under your covers, you whispered another “thank you” and a “goodnight” into the darkness, and four voices softly answered “goodnight” back

The Morning After

The heat of the bright sun shining directly in your face woke you in the morning 

You burrowed beneath your pillow, attempting to block out the light, but it was too warm inside the camper

Giving up, you kicked off your blankets and opened your eyes

Namjoon was already sitting up, and Hoseok was stretching in bed, his shirt lifting to expose his tummy

You’d slept fitfully and were still tired, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep anymore, so you decided to get up, too

Hoseok headed to the public bathroom to shower, and Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook went outside to give you privacy while you used the camper shower

When you were clean and dressed, you went outside and found Jimin making friends with two friendly dogs that had wandered into your camp

You greeted Jimin and the sweet pups, then joined Jin who was lounging in a camp chair drinking pumpkin sikhye

Jin offered you some, and you enjoyed a sip of the sweet rice drink

It was another beautiful, peaceful morning in New Zealand, and it was nice to take a moment to just relax and enjoy it

Then Yoongi appeared, freshly showered and dressed for the day, and your heart gave its usual excited response

He really needed to stop being so cute

Not making eye contact, he casually sat next to Jin and asked to try his drink

You offered Yoongi a “good morning” and a smile as Jin passed him the bottle, but he only nodded, pulling out his phone and starting to idly scroll through it

Feeling unsure, you sat in silence, the three of you sharing sips of the sikhye until it was gone

Then Hoseok returned from the showers, and Yoongi joined him as he squeezed espresso packets into water bottles to make instant Americanos

As Yoongi walked away, Jin looked at you, an eyebrow raised

Even though he wasn’t yet privy to every detail, he knew enough to be curious about what he just witnessed

You gave Jin a weak smile, not knowing what to tell him

You weren’t sure what was up either

Maybe Yoongi just needed his morning caffeine fix

Maybe after his coffee he’d be more friendly, you told yourself

But before you could think too much about it, the rest of the group gathered around and began preparing to leave

The activity for the morning was a helicopter tour, and everyone needed to ride in the SUV to get to the pickup site

In typical fashion, the boys wanted to play rock-paper-scissors to determine seating order

Jin elected to drive and Namjoon won the front seat

Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook lost and had to squeeze into the third row

Which left you, Yoongi, and Taehyung in the second row

Yoongi climbed in behind the passenger’s seat, and Taehyung nudged you to sit in the middle, barely concealing his conspiratorial smile

Giving Taehyung a look, you slid across the seat, settling next to Yoongi, your shoulders pressed together 

But he kept his gaze fixed out the window

And you felt a tiny twinge of doubt 

The car was packed with all eight of you, but as you rode along, Jimin said that it was fun to be together in one vehicle 

Your group had been divided between the camper and the SUV the whole trip, and even back home the members rarely rode all together anymore

The other boys agreed, and began reminiscing about sharing vehicles while filming past music videos

You always enjoyed hearing them discuss their memories

But you were distracted as you sat between Yoongi and Taehyung, pulling your shoulders and knees together to make yourself as small as possible

Yoongi was acting normal with the others, talking and joking, but he’d yet to interact with you directly

And you couldn’t help but wonder why

Was Yoongi being shy and awkward because he kissed you last night and now he didn’t know how to act around you?

Or was he regretting kissing you…?

You forced the thought from your mind

No, you were probably reading too much into things

You were just letting your insecurities influence you

There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for his sudden change in behavior

You’d had a good reason for acting similarly the day before, afterall

But whatever it was that was inhibiting him, you hoped it wasn’t going to last all day

Because honestly…

You weren’t sure you could stand another day not being close to him

Previous - Next

Taglist: @bucky-thorin-winchester @yvemoon @serpentiinequeen @neilpoetssociety @narcissism-iskey​

#bts #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #suganetwork #hyunglinenetwork #bts bon voyage #bts headcanons #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts suga #bts imagines suga #bts fluff #bts fics #bon voyage season 4

[lady-of-endless]

Closer Than Yesterday (Din Djarin x Reader)

AN: My Star Wars obsession is still alive after many years and it's consuming me once again. I got two sweethearts but decided to first post something for The Husbandolorian. I am sorry for any possible grammar mistakes or for the feeling that it might be too rushed.

You were not working for him, you were working with him.

The first time you heard those words coming from the Mandalorian in order to correct someone's incorrect assumption has caught you off guard. Din gradually started to share his space, ship, weapons, plans with you. It has already become a partnership and not a deal, how it all started. Even The Child clung onto both of you, feeling security and care more than ever, being a profound approval. Contrary to what he experienced, the bounty hunter found your presence quite helpful but distracting because of reasons he did not understand.

Between the two of you, a set of rules were silently and indirectly established while working together. Most of them were just some of your habits that he observed after some days. Din noticed how you would always go to sleep somewhere else in the Razor Crest, how you would find something for him to eat and leave him alone with it, how you never insisted on exposing his identity like the others. It felt comfortable to have someone who does not persist on seeing what is under his heavy helmet. You were more than curious to know but respected him too much to ever ask or talk about taking it off in front of you.

Today, after another arduous job, Din was not in his best shape. His armor felt heavier on his shoulders and chest, his body more encased and weakened. Even now when he was seated on the cold floor of the ship and resting while cleaning some of his weapons in silence, he felt drowsy.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked when you observed the unusual shifting of his body.

The sound of your voice was able to keep him steady. At first, it was confusing how you could just sense when he was not feeling well and now after many experiences, Din was not seeing the point of hiding the state he was in.

“Not really. I feel like I’m burning up.” He explained briefly and to the point like when he talked to a stranger, only wanting to avoid worrying you. “I can handle it alone.”

Hearing those words as a response only made you look deep where you assumed his eyes were. It was frustrating how so many things could be seen as a reflection on the visor of his helmet. The moon, the stars, the light from his ship, but never his eyes. Those times in which you were staring and searching for him, Din could still feel exposed like there was a slim chance for you to see him. Somehow, your eyes were directed right into his without knowing it. It was always just a strange feeling he had. He could swear that sometimes you could see right through his helmet even if his logic was denying the fact strongly.

Having in mind what he said and seeing the way he carried himself through the day made you worry about his health. You had to make sure there was nothing wrong but there was no way of saying what you had in mind in a proper manner.

Nobody could truly explain what happened next.

“Then I'm afraid that I have to ask you to take off your helmet.” You said sternly and out of the blue.

The Mandalorian almost dropped the blaster he was fixing from his hands in shock. Exhausted after many days filled up with different jobs and now this? The demand he thought to never hear from you finally came in such an awful juncture, almost causing him an instant headache.

“Why?” He asked coldly, already tensing up but still waiting to know what your explanation was.

“How am I supposed to check your temperature with it on?” You responded but with another question. The situation was not to your liking either.

There was not a hidden purpose in your demand, you just wanted to check the issue before it got worse. He could see it on your face, knowing that familiar worried expression far too well. Before answering, Din looked over the Child for a second only to see him sleeping peacefully in his crib. It has become a reflex.

“You don't have to, it will be fine.” He explained in a slightly silent tone not to wake the Child, not looking at you.

Everyone knew how capable he was but in the same time, his voice was never convincing enough when he was alone with you. After remaining in silence and letting his words sink in, you slowly left the cockpit without a response. Din continued to fix his weapons, already questioning if he was bitter to you for no reason. As an answer, after some minutes, the sound of your footsteps could be heard and could make an overthinking bounty hunter relax. You inhaled deeply and cleared your throat just like at the start of an announcement, making him curious.

Din raised his eyes to you and saw how yours were covered by a dark cloth and your steps towards him were slow and tentative. Almost immediately, he knew what your idea was.

“If I am not allowed to see your face, is there anything said against touching it?” You asked trying to explain your intention even if he already got the idea.

“No.” He answered in a long and heavy sigh. Not if it was you who did it.

He watched you cautiously stepping closer, asking himself why were you so stubborn when it came to his own well-being and why he was not able to lie to you.

“Where are you, Din?” You asked tenderly even if he was right in front of you.

The way that simple question echoed in his mind made him realize that he could always reach you while you were still searching for him, Din Djarin, day by day.

Such an absurd idea was against what he swore, but it could work. You were always helping him with his injuries and this act had to be the same, purely medical. This was the only reason he could find.

From where he was seated, Din reached for your right hand, pulling it closer and placing it on his right shoulder, on top of his Mudhorn signet. It was the distinctive sign that you adored, belonging to a clan of two, a deep connection between the Mandalorian and the Child that anyone could see from the start. Whenever you were losing focus, a single glance at that signet was enough to get you back on track. Still feeling your palm covering the cold signet, you lowered yourself on the floor of the ship, in front of him. There have been numerous times in which you were this close to each other but now it felt even more profound and cordial.

“Wait.” He stopped you. His gloved hand caught your chin and slightly raised your face in order to check if that cloth was tight enough over your eyes, not leaving space below for your vision. Then, he checked if the material was dense enough. It the end, it looked safe after his investigation. He inhaled deeply, and he took off his helmet with slow movements, still doubtful and anxious about the way his heart was racing. “You can move closer.”

Your mind stopped and your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice not being modulated anymore. The sudden clearness of his voice was now locked in your mind. Din gently wrapped his fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands closer and guiding them towards his face. The feeling of his breathing on your palms reminded you what was really happening.

It was the first time seeing you in front of him, clearly, without any filter the visor of the helmet was adding to your image. If he could only satisfy the longing feeling to run a hand through your hair to memorize the smoothness of it, or simply touch your cheeks with his fingertips.

As your skin met his, your mind was already quick to catch on some details of his face. The first thing you could feel was a stubble that pleasantly surprised you. Higher on one of his cheeks, a scar was changing the texture of his skin. At this point the purpose of this action was almost forgotten.

It is said that when one sense is blocked, the others tend to get sharper, but you were sure how the real reason for feeling everything at such magnitude was because he was so close to you.

The gentle touches resembled caresses, something he did not have the chance to feel in years.

Your hands were warmer than he imagined and even through your touch he could feel how careful you were with him, all the time. Maybe it was your mind tricking you but you could feel him leaning into your touch a little before stopping himself. Din was looking straight at the blindfold after realizing what he did. He was not asking himself if you could see anything but thinking if that is how you felt about not seeing his eyes. The Mandalorian looked away at that thought.

Trying to distract himself from any other unnecessary thoughts, Din parted his lips when his mind suddenly reminded him about the existence of some sort of device that could measure his temperature in just a matter of seconds somewhere on his ship. However, not a single word came out from his mouth about it.

His face felt warm under the palms of your hands but not in an alarming way that would indicate a fever. Even so, you did not stop there. Curiosity was torturing you with every detail of his face you discovered but yet, your devotion was stopping you from doing anything stupid. Your fingers ghosted higher over his temples and settled on his forehead.

“You're frowning. Is there something wrong?” You asked breaking the silence, feeling one deep wrinkle formed between his tensed eyebrows.

“Nothing to worry about.” He said after clearing his throat and trying to get rid of the tension from his body.

Nothing could make him understand why he accepted this in the first place or why he was trusting you so. Why all that he wanted at that moment was to close his eyes and let himself melt into your touch? Din was not the one to admit the fact that he was craving normal human interaction, lacking in deals, payments, jobs, plans. He craved something real, a warming touch when everything was covered in the coldness of his beskar. With every move, it was getting more difficult to handle the shivers that ran down his spine. Without his helmet, he started to be more aware of his breathing, and how it changed its rhythm. He got too used to the safety of that helmet and how it was capable to hide his reactions. This could not go on any longer.

“Haven't seen someone check the temperature for this long.” He started.

“Probably not, I'm sorry for that.” You said slowly retrieving your hands from his face. “You're fine, but overworked. Please, take care and rest.”

Before you could back up, right before leaving his personal space, Din reached for your hands once again, only to pull your fingertips against his lips.

“Thank you.” He whispered looking at you while doing it.

The gesture was not planned at all, unfamiliar by its spontaneous nature and level of trust for him.

Later on, you laid back in a chair from the cockpit being careful enough not to slip a word about what happened. Closing your eyes and replaying the whole scene in your mind, you slowly drifted, falling asleep even in that uncomfortable position. In the chair that was next to yours was Din, piloting. After looking over his shoulder to check on you and seeing you being asleep, he put the ship into cruise mode.

Getting up from his seat only to put a blanket over your body, he stayed by your side a little longer and looked at your sleeping figure with a tightening feeling in his chest. Once again, he could not follow his wish to plant a kiss on your forehead at that moment. The risk for you to wake up and see him was too high. The only thing that he could do was to take off his gloves and grasp your right hand, running his thumb over your knuckles in slow circles.

“Soon enough, you will get closer.” He whispered for both of you, still holding onto your hand.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #star wars #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic

[elle-smells]

Birthday Kisses -- one shot

20:03

Robbe had been waiting all day. 

The two hands in the old living room clock seemed to be moving slower than usual and that just wasn’t going to do it for him. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe the way he felt right now. After all the birthday wishes and cake and blowing out candles all the newly 17 year old wanted was his boyfriend; the same person who was running late. 

Not that Robbe is an impatient person, he prides himself in being able to not stress when things run a little behind schedule, but Sander had promised him he’d be here tonight to celebrate with Robbe and yet every time someone passes by his mama’s house it’s not the person he’s expecting.

“Dude, chill, you staring at the clock isn’t going to make him appear out of thin air” Jens teased as he took as seat next to his best friend who grew more anxious by the minute. 

Robbe sighed, “I know but it’s been a long time since he last texted”, Sander had been spoiling his Robin all day with sweet messages complimenting him and others that were a little more suggestive and made Robbe blush more than he’d like to admit. “I just want to make sure he is coming, you know, so I can... save him a piece of cake...”

“Cake?! There’s some cake left?!!” Aaron suddenly spoke from where he was playing video games with Moyo.

“Can I have more, pleaseeee”

“No, it’s not for you, it’s for Sander” Robbe got up to cut a slice before he muttered “If he ever decides to show up.”

Robbe served the cake on one of the plastic plates his mama had bought the day before and sat back down grabbing his beer from the living room table. 

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, when has he ever dispapointed you- oh wait, never mind”

“Jens!” Robbe hit his best friend on the shoulder “That was a long time ago! And of course I trust him, I’m just a little confused as to what is taking him so long, that’s all”

Reluctantly Robbe decided to let it go. Jens was right, Sander wouldn’t be late unless he had a good excuse. He’ll just have to be more patient...

21:21

He’s starting to get little more worried now.....ok, he’s REALLY worried. I’ts been over an hour and Sander is still a no show. Robbe looks at the time, 21.21. He feels a smile forming on his lips. Once, on a rainy afternoon during a day-long cuddle session, Sander had told him that was the time they got together for real. That exact time stamp is when Sander told him it was them, 100%, in every universe. Of course, Robbe knew it was nearly impossible for the art student to know one of the most special moments in their realtionship happened at such a specific time. 

However, he didn’t dare question it out loud, because as soon as Sander said it, the words felt more right than Robbe could’ve ever imagined. Like it was bigger than them, their love or even the universe they were so glad to live in with each other. That day they decided 21:21 would be like their 11:11 (but much more more meaningful than those weird tumblr posts everyone used to quote). Sometimes the couple would send texts simply whishing their lover a “Happy 21:21″ 

It felt perfect. Which is why Robbe couldn’t help but feel slight disappointment when Sander didn’t walk through the door at exactly that time. 

The Broerrrs were one drink away from reaching their “limit”, which basically meant that they were one drink away from not being able to stand, and kept asking Robbe to join them. “It’s your birthday! Come on, you only get turn 17 once!” Robbe hated to admit it but his friends were right. He invited them over to have fun, and that’s exactly what the were going to do. 

25 mintues later...

He was having the time of his life. Seriously, after going so long without proper partying, dancing like an idiot with his friends was exactly what he needed. It was almost enough to make him forget about- oh....

Robbe had pretty much given up at this point, though he didn’t exactly know how much time had passed since he last checked he had almost fully accepted that it was way too long and maybe his boyfriend wasn’t coming. It saddened the brown haired boy to the core. He wanted those birthday kisses, cuddles, giggles and everything he had always secretly hoped for while he was still hidding a huge part of himself. 

One thing was for sure, Robbe was expecting one hell of an explanation-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“I’ll get it” Robbe dragged his body to the door trying, and failing, to not get his hopes up. He slowly opened the door and his heart sunk yet again when he realised there was no one there.... and then he saw it; the drawing.

It was of a day Robbe remembered well. There was some stress with his mama and he had stayed up with her all night. He loved her very much and would do anything to make her comfortable, but he was human after all and his body had limits too. Sander had noticed the purple bags beginning to form under his eyes and practically begged his boyfriend to get some sleep, god knows he needed. He remembers waking up however many hours later to the sun hitting his eyes with so much intensity he felt like never opening them again. And then a giggle, and then a soft “Don’t move Robin, you’re gonna make me mess this up, it’s a good one”. 

There it was, a sketch of him peacefully sleeping into the late hours of the morning with a white comforter covering everything below his hips, leaving his bare back completly exposed. It was beautiful. There was no mistaking who the artist was, Sander.

Robbe felt his phone buzz in his pocket, he pulled it out and saw a notification for a single text, “Look up ;)” 

His boyfriend was standing a little to the right of the door almost as if he had been hidding. Wearing a simple white graphic tee and black jeans, Robbe thought Sander had never looked so gorgeous. 

“Happy Birthday Robin” he said with an easy smile that perfectly translated into the way he was looking at the birthday boy. Robbe forgot all the frustration he felt throughout the night and jumped into his boyfriends awaiting arms. Like always, it felt like coming home. 

Sander held him as tightly as he could while whispering countless “happy birthdays” and “I love you so much” or “you are so beautiful”.

When his lover finally placed him down on the pavement Robbe looked at him with gentle eyes and asked “What took you so long?”

“Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier but setting up your surprise took longer than I thought it would”

“Surprise?” Now the older boy had Robbe’s full attention

“Come, you’ll see” Sander grabbed Robbe’s hands and led him to a small green area right next to where he lived. The brown eyed boy couldn’t believe it. Sander had set up fairy lights all around a triangular white tent big enough to fit the both of them. There were pillows, snacks and a small speaker that would most likely end up playing something by Bowie soon. 

Robbe felt arms wrap around his waist from behind, “So, do you like it? Is it too much? fuck I knew it was too much, I´ll just take it down sorry-” 

At those words the birthday boy immediately spun around and gently grabbed his boyfriend´s face “Sander stop! It’s perfect, you’re perfect I love this and you so much” he tilted his head up to join Sander’s lips with his own in a reassuring kiss. 

“Look, honestly, I was a little upset that you took so long to get here but it doesn’t matter. You’re here now and that’s all I wanted”

Sander’s smile was so big it took up half his face, his brown hair had grown out a little since he cut it and now it was long enough to have a messy look to it. Robbe has never felt so lucky.

“So what you’re saying is that I’m the best birthday present you got today”

Neither could contain their laughter as they kissed once more, this time with all the passion and love they had built up inside. The broerrrs won’t mind if Robbe disappears for a little while, and if they do then at least he had this moment with the best thing that ever happened to him.

Eventually they do notice Robbe's absence and join them outside making the obvious kissy faces and "oohh" sounds which got them a glare from their best friend in love. They all walk around as far as their tired and almost sober bodies will take them without a destination in mind. The cool late night air makes everyone shiver and yet Robbe has never felt so warm, so loved.

Yup, this was defintely the best birthday ever. 

#DISCLAIMER: This is literally the first time I've writen anything for tumblr #or yeah anything #so I'm sorry if it's a mess hahaha #I just needed to do something with all the content they gave us #again sorry #also I'm not sure that was the exact tiem the picutre was posted so deal with that inconsistency haha #is inconsistency even the right word? idk #oh and also sorry if the tense is a bit weird #I basically just wrote words and hoped for the best #wtfock #wtfam

[bluesunsdusk]

Sigma in different setting verses and family

Strap yourself in, this will be a long post. 

Main/Overwatch

I imagine my Sigma to have had two brothers, both older than him, but both also ultimately shorter. Wouter, the eldest brother died in the Omnic Crisis while he was working for Lucheng Interstellar, which created friction between him and the family, as they felt rather upset at his absence during this very tumultuous time despite the fact that his research served to improve the chances of survival for those back on earth. The  other brother, Joris, became a sheep farmer, because he had fanciful ideas about living the farmer lifestyle up north. Siebren was surprised that he manages to get a husband, in all honesty, because he hasn’t a clue who would want to live on a farm far removed from any bus stops and towns. 

Anyway, after a while, the tension brought on by Wouter’s death dissipated, since people knew very well that Siebren cares a lot about his family. He just wasn’t as lovey-dovey as some people and showed his care through things like developing protective measures in his lab that can be used down on earth. It wasn’t like anyone would benefit from him buying candy or some shit. Leave that to Joris. Besides, what was he supposed to do if he had stayed on earth? Take the missiles in his brother’s stead? 

Sometimes, he would try to assist in looking after the children of the family, despite only being able to use long distance communications. 

He travelled away from the family home on many school trips and went into an apartment when he entered college. Being as distracted by/focused on his studies as he was, it could be hard to manage his time between his studies and his family, so he would not visit as often as they would like if he wasn’t reminded to do so because he had a hard time missing people. He had a hard time with emotions in general and was prone to tunnel vision that made him lose track of broader time.

He loves his family, he just doesn’t spend much time with them, and he clearly loves his direct family (brothers, parents) the most. Honestly, he sometimes forgot others and had to put a lot of effort into keeping them in mind early on, especially with the limited energy he had for social interactions. That being said, the children usually did enjoy his company, which made it a lot easier to remember contacting the family, especially for the children who contacted him or asked their parents about him.

If contacted, he would not just ignore a message, unlike some uncles. It could sometimes take him a while to get back at a message, but he would try to get back to it.

Merfolk

Siebren has two siblings. With the lack of a war, his eldest brother is alive, but he nearly died protecting a school of merfolk from a human attack. Humans like to collect merfolk for prestige or to eat. Most merfolk cannot speak the human languages because they spend most of their time underwater and use nonverbal means to communicate. When above water, they also just speak a different language than any of the human languages, though they might have similar enough accents to certain local dialects.

He travels a lot, so he is used to not seeing his family for long stretches of time. That being said, he makes sure to visit them every now and then, and they make the most of it whenever he is by. His eldest brother worries about him a lot, knowing how close he gets to humans in his research. 

When he visits, ge brings some items from his research. Sometimes, it’s items that are seen as junk to humans, like broken off parts of ships or parts of marine observation technology.

In an attempt to keep everyone safe, Wouter teaches his children and brothers how to defend themselves. Because Siebren isn’t around often, he has been taught a lot less. 

Monster Hunter

In this verse, Sigma has one brother, having lost his eldest brother to a demon attack while Siebren studied different dimensions for the monster hunting order he is a part of. After his brother’s death, he continued his studies, but he was less focused, eventually having an accident that exposed him to the unfiltered energies of a demonic plane. 

Anyway, he isolated himself from his family since his brother’s death. He was not at his funeral. Like in his main verse, it put a strain on the relationship between him and his brother, though his sister-in-law understood why he didn’t show up. She was just worried about him.

Like in his main verse, he is used to not seeing his family for long stretches of time, and he is aware that he may be killed in the line of duty. As time passed, he began to contact his sister-in-law more often.

Eldritch

El just... He knows he/his host has a family, and being in this body means he has a bond towards them. In fact, he cares more about them now than he did before. Eldritch just can’t visit them, because he is an eldritch host, and he doesn’t want to do harm to his family or have them do harm to him. 

He is upset sometimes because he will never meet them and he is a stranger in his own body now. 

Vampire

His family is his vampire clan. Anyone who isn’t in the cult isn’t his family. His brother and everyone else hasn’t heard from him since he went on his little expedition. They don’t even know he’s alive. He doesn’t even think about them, and he doesn’t miss any of them. All he cares about is the melody and sharing his blood with people.

Demon

He has been a demon for so long he doesn’t even remember his family, aside from vague things. Sometimes, he may recall a name or a feeling. He is used to isolation. Sometimes, he does feel lonely, so he seeks out mortal interaction, but then he tires from said mortals. 

It’s unpleasant having a need for mortal company when having such limited patience for them. Whenever he attempts to give them a chance, they remind him of why he dislikes them. 

Orc Warlock

In this verse, Sigma lives with his family in the tribe and helps raise the children when he has the time to do so. One of his brothers was killed by outsiders during an attack on their tribe before they had relocated, and the other members of the tribe offered their hands in taking care of the children while his partner mourned. Sigma was among them, despite mourning the loss of his brother as well. Back then, he had studied the arcane and partially blamed himself for not being able to fend people off well enough to protect his brother. 

As one might imagine, the orc tribes are less about studying abroad or working in space. In fact, he’s spent most of his life with the tribe. It’s big on communal childrearing and exile is seen as the biggest shame an orc can have thrust upon them. The tribe sticks together and they protect each other. An isolated orc is far more prone to being attacked and killed than a tribe is. 

Furthermore, he’s not exactly in possession of the privilege a cis white European man with higher education would have. 

People fear his kind, though unlike with certain other races, he can understand why one may have a logical reason not to trust an orc, considering Gul’dan and the Horde in a WoW verse. 

In a general fantasy setting that so happens to have the fel, which he is in, though, he believes most biases about orcs to be just that. Biases and made up nonsense, such as that all orcs are genetically predisposed to violence and inherently worst at arcane arts shouldn’t be taken as fact, yet so many do it. It doesn’t help that orcs look less than elegant to most other races, what with their sharp teeth and tusks. The hulking mass most have doesn’t help either, nor do the more extreme groups of orc that think people like Sigma should have been drowned at birth for not being born absolutely stacked.  

People, especially orcs, don’t really trust mages in some places either, so he’s double fucked. 

The tribe has people keeping watch all day and night, in shifts, and has wards around the area to detect and hinder intruders. When away from the tribe, he is on high alert and has trouble relaxing and sleeping. His eyes will open at the slightest noise, unless he’s with someone he trusts. This means someone he trusts to protect both themselves and him, and to not get caught by surprise. He won’t even sleep much better from putting up wards, and demons can draw attention.

Sometimes, the children will visit his shaman tent when he is doing normal shaman things instead of warlock things. 

Being an important member of the tribe, he also just worries about how well his people would do without him. They already almost died a few times. He’s had to protect them on numerous occasions and the forest was chosen because it’s far from people who might harm them or try to rope them into a conflict. The demons are bound to his will, too. What would happen if he was gone for so long that they ceased to be bound? Sure, Moira is there and could tame them, but he doesn’t trust her. What if she does something that alters the tribe in a way that can’t be reversed?

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he gets anxious if cut off from the tribe. It’s in contrast with regular Overwatch Sigma, who is fine not being in contact with his family for a bit, because Warlock has hardly ever been separated from his family ever, and there is a huge mentality of loyalty to the tribe He gave his actual soul for the tribe. 

That being said, even if he got a letter while away, he would not respond to it immediately if he is occupied. He will make sure it’s safe and will check it almost immediately though. 

Dragon Age

The Augur of the Obscure does not remember his family, only small snippets of it, along with blurred and scrambled memories from other parts of his life. He thinks they were close when he was younger. His studies made them drift a little apart.

Naturally, everyone he grew up with is dead. It has been quite a long time ago since the first blight, after all. Perhaps, them being dead is for the best, considering the circumstances. 

Verses not included: 

Fable 2 and 3

Fable 3: Traitor’s Keep

Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion

Disciple of Order

Elder Scrolls 5: Skyrim

Mass Effect ot

Mass Effect Andromeda

#long post #ooc #about sigma

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 13 ~The Conditions~

Bracing her jaw with one hand, Jamie cautiously brushed his lips over hers and then slightly drew away. He'd half expected her to deck him but gazing down at her face, her eyes were half-closed, and her skin flushed. She looked so damn beautiful even with her makeup smeared and her hair wild and messy. It took every ounce of his self-control not to pull her hard against him and kiss her thoroughly, torturously taking his time to give her a chance to push him away. But when she moved closer, and he caught the tiny whimper of pleasure escaping her throat, his blood roared in his ears, the feeling of triumph that she'd be his almost bringing him to his knees. Until he felt her hands slide up from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him in and realised he'd belong to her just as completely.

"Sweet Jesus, Sassenach, please tell me ye want this as much as I do," he whispered hoarsely, pressing their foreheads together. "I need to hear it. I must hear it."

"W-want you ...need you." Her words came out slurred as she licked her lips and swayed.

"This better not be a rebound," he growled against her mouth.

"Call it whatever you want, Jamie. Just kiss me already."

The demand in her voice made his cock swell, and his skin grew hot and tight. With a pained groan, Jamie obliged, sinking his tongue into her mouth, the taste of her turning him into a ravenous beast, making him wonder what mediocre high he'd been chasing all these years when this woman was out there. Unwittingly, the weight of the many meaningless one-night-stands bore down heavily on his shoulders, catching him off guard. They slithered in to haunt him because nothing and no one had ever felt like Claire. His soul yearned to be reborn again and purge for his past sins, purifying himself in the clean smell of her skin, the tentative strokes of her tongue and featherlike fingertips sliding up his back.

Seconds ticked while he teased her with what was to come, noting her responses to every exploration of his hands. He wanted to know her secrets, coaxing them out with his kiss, subtly pushing her to reveal herself. Her mouth moved under his, eagerly, and so perfect. He adored the little sounds vibrating up her throat, ending where their lips met, but it was too damn much as lust pumped in his veins. He needed more. 

Unable to contain himself any longer, his fingers gripped her hips to lift her up. Satisfaction and relief surged through him when she wrapped her legs around his middle, her fingers tangling in his hair and holding on tight. Without releasing her mouth, Jamie walked them out of the kitchen and towards Claire's bedroom. He felt her hands grabbed at his back, frenziedly trying to yank up his shirt, her dress hiking higher above her thighs with her movements. His erection pushed painfully against his jeans. Knowing she wanted him as badly jarred his centre, and he fought for restraint as she pulled him into the current of raw emotion and need he'd never experienced before.

The next thing he knew, they were tumbling onto the bed, flattening her underneath him on the mattress. Still wedged between her thighs, he started to rock against her, her scent and the fragrance of her room surrounding him, a heady mixture of candles, wildflowers and freshly washed sheets.

"Christ," he rasped, breaking the kiss before his mouth coasted down the side of her neck for a taste. "Ye sure about this? I dinnae want ye having any regrets."

"Damn you, Fraser." She writhed beneath him, her ankles locking behind the small of his back. "You're asking me that now? What do you think?"

Bracing himself on one elbow, he gingerly unbuttoned the front of her dress with concentrated effort and a shaking hand. He was acting like a horny teenager, but it couldn't be helped when his cock was growing fuller and aching harder by the second. "I want to do this right, Sassenach. For ye. Exactly how ye wish it to be." 

"You're worried about that?" she gasped. "I'm concerned about whether it's feeling this good for you too." She let out a breathless laugh as she unbuckled his belt.

This lass who'd appeared during the lowest moment in his life and yelled him back into existence had bravely poked his sore spots and offered herself as bait to help him get a job at the network. She was innately a giver in all sorts of ways, but right now, he needed to convince her to be the taker. "I've never had my heart and mind in this before, Sassenach. I'm normally a million miles away, but with ye, I'm right here. Ye hear me? Right here with ye." Heart knocking wildly against his ribs, he dragged his open lips along her jaw, still fumbling with her buttons. "Ye're anxious it doesnae feel good for me? I'm trying my hardest not to bust like an eejit."

"Really?" she breathed, boldly unzipping his jeans and sliding a hand over his erection. Her sigh washed over his chest as she squeezed him, nearly making him shoot out of bed.

Jamie groaned at her touch. "Christ, ye're killing me. I just want it to be perfect for ye." He pressed his face against the crook of her neck as he continued to grapple with the last button of her dress, this time more impatiently.

"If you must know ...in my fantasy, I'd be wearing a red baby-doll nightie and serving you a dirty martini. So let's be over with the bathwater, alright?"

Laughter rose from his chest as he rid finally of her dress, drawing it from her body and throwing it on the floor. He found it endearing how she could make him laugh when his balls were on the verge of revolt. "Is that right? I dinna ken what a baby-doll nightie is, but it sounds verra interesting. Ye'll have to show it to me another time," he murmured, his eyes hungrily skimming down the length of her body. 

Unable to resist, he trailed a finger over the hollow of her stomach and around her belly button, biting his lip in satisfaction as her alabaster skin quivered under his hand. Her full breasts were restrained in cream coloured bra, and the juncture of her thighs barely covered with tiny transparent lace panties. "Gorgeous as ye are now in yer knickers, I want to see all of ye bare."

"Y-yes, Jamie."

"Yes, Jamie," he echoed, slowly sliding his hand in the inside of her thigh, making her squirm. "Why weren't you agreeable all those times I told you faking a relationship wasnae a good idea?"

"If you paid attention, you would have noticed I'm selectively agreeable."

He tamped down the urge to smile. "Smart-ass! Look where it got us. Ye had to be exactly what I need, stubbornly reminding me it was all for the show. Then driving me out of my nuts from wanting ye. Look at ye half-naked, and here I am with an ache, only ye can ease. What are we going to do about that, huh?"

"I-I don't want to fight it anymore."

"Neither do I." He kissed her hard then went back to being serious. "I tried hard to ignore it, but I can't stop myself from wanting ye." He groaned against her mouth, cupping his hand between her thighs. "I need to be inside this so fucking bad but ..."

"...you don't do relationships," she finished off for him, making him stiffen.

"Christ!" he muttered. "Ye certainly do cut to the chase, don't ye?" He ignored the odd lump in his throat and swallowed hard. Even though it pained him, he needed to tell her the truth. "It'll be more than a fling, Sassenach and even if it lasts only a few weeks or months or a year, it'll be the longest I've ever been like this with someone. I-I can't promise a happily ever after ...I don't have a family gene in me. I can't be that for ye, but I'll be damned before ye regret this."

"I understand. Our futures look different, and it could never work. I don't suppose I'll marry again so soon but if one day ..."

"... I won't stand in yer way of a chance for happiness. I will let ye go." He said the words earnestly and with conviction, but how come he didn't feel convinced he would do just that? But before any further train of thoughts could gather steam, he shut the laughing voices in his head. "Are ye in, Sassenach?" Jamie's heart rapped violently in his chest.

"Y-yes, let's do this," she whispered, her hands impatiently skating up and down his back. 

Gladdened by her answer, he pulled her against him, his tongue travelling along the curve of her lower lip before diving back into her mouth. "And one more selfish demand ... while we're together, there will be no one else but us until we decide differently. That work for ye?"

"Yes ...yes, it does ..." 

Before she could finish, he laid his mouth on top of hers, brushing his thumb back and forth across her sensitive spot between her thighs, making her stomach hollow and loins twist. "Christ ye're so wet for me."

"Oooh, yes ...feels so good." Her words emerged choked as her hands began to tug and dig at his shoulders. She needed him badly, and the proof was in every lick of her tongue inside his mouth, and the rushed exhale onto his skin.

Pulling away with a grunt, he sat back on his heels and hooked his fingers into the flimsy band of her lingerie, gently working it down her hips. Then he dropped the lacy scrap on the floor and stood up, divesting himself of his clothes and placing a condom on the bed. With anticipation, his eyes feasted on her exposed flesh, and it took a mammoth of self-control not to throw himself upon her and take her there and then. Pure amusement took over as Claire shut her eyes, refusing to look at him. "Sassenach, look at me."

Claire groaned as she slowly took a peek, her bright amber eyes pools of lust and doubt warring together. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, and she swallowed audibly as she viewed his naked glory. "A word of caution," she whispered. "I'm not like the glamourous women you date or sleep with. I'm afraid I'll be a disappointment to you."

His heart twisted, shredding his voice to fragments. With Claire's insecurities and her feeling of uncertainty, he knew she needed him to be confident enough for both of them. "No, ye're not like any of the women I've been with, Sassenach," he said truthfully. "Because I've never wanted anyone this bad. I lived with the knowledge and torture during these last few weeks ...ye ... within reach, will never be mine to have. And yet here we are." He knelt between her thighs, gently spreading her legs wider. And then he took his cock in one hand and fisted it, causing her to blush even more. "Trust me when I say, I've never come close to a fraction of this kind of want. Ye can never be a disappointment." 

He leaned in, watching her eyes widen even more as he took her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss, pressing his erection against her heat and expertly undoing her bra and discarding it with a quick flick of his wrist. He keened out loud as their bodies locked together, her breasts and softness pressed against him almost robbing him of his sanity. Their breaths became loud and laboured in the quiet room, along with the sounds of their bodies shifting on the soft mattress, the springs beneath them sighing with their movements. 

Cupping her breast, his thumb circled her nipple until it puckered to a hard point. He felt her chest heaved for gulps of air, and her pulse beat wildly at the base of her neck as he prolonged their kiss. He relished the taste of her but never quite getting enough, wanting desperately to bury himself deep inside her. Although he was aching badly, he took his time wanting to commit every second and the feel of her to memory. When she tried to reach for his cock, he snagged her wrist. "No, Sassenach. I cannae allow it," he muttered too gruffly. "Not yet, anyway."

"P-please, now, Jamie. I'm ready." She seemed almost flustered by the lift of her hips as if she wanted to play it collected, but her body wouldn't allow it.

But Claire's sweet plea did it. Dragging his open mouth over her breast, he sucked her nipples hard, his tongue flicking restlessly, while he drove two fingers between her thighs. Claire's eyes rolled back in her head, her back arching and her legs spreading a little wider in an invitation.

Unable to hold on the sweet torture any longer, he slid down between her thighs until he was eye level with her swollen folds. He used his fingers to separate her flesh, lowering his mouth and licking her with the flat of his tongue. She twisted and moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as he regarded her like a starved man, listening to her breathing go shallow and loving the taste and sight of her in the throes of passion.

"Oh, God, Jamie, it's too much. Please. Please," she sobbed loudly.

"So responsive, my wee sweet, Sassenach," he muttered between her thighs. "It's never too much,  mo chridhe ." 

Swiping her slit slow and deliberate, he tasted, nibbled and teased. He used one arm to pin her flailing body down, never hastening his pace, her cries charging the air with sexual desperation and frenzy. He inhaled her musky scent, rubbing the engorged nub, and pushing his finger in and out of her soaking channel. Her insides clamped down hard and tried to suck him deeper, but he continued to tease until she floundered and thrashed, like a senseless being on edge. 

"No more," she gasped, her amber eyes wild and past sanity. "Damn you, Jamie, no more. C-can't take ..." 

With a low chuckle, he took her throbbing nub between his lips and sucked hard, sensing her orgasm shimmering right there and so close. He cursed out loud, pumping two fingers this time and tucking a tongue alongside, in and out of her entrance. And then he drew back out, sliding up higher and driving in faster, her slickness making his mouth work.

And then she came, her body arching like a bow under his command. He absorbed all her sweetness in his mouth, continuing the suction motions so that she succumbed into another orgasm so beautifully, it made him wonder if he'd allow her to leave the bed ever again. She hung onto him with wild abandon and desperation he couldn't refuse. Sliding up her body, he worshipped every inch of her damp skin with kisses, pausing at her mouth to nip her lips and to cradle her face with his hand in the act of pure adoration.

Eyes unfocused, her head lolled to the side as she reached for his cock, once again, gripping it without finesse. "Want you now, inside me," she garbled. 

He let out a shaky laugh. "Easy now, Sassenach, otherwise I'll burst." Shoving back the reluctance, Jamie tore his lips away from hers and reached for the condom he'd left on the bed. He quickly covered himself in stretched latex and slid up her body, muffling her requests to hurry with a hard kiss. His cock was poised at her entrance as her tongue battled his and her legs locked behind him. Unable to wait any longer, he plunged deep inside with a single thrust and all the pent up emotions she'd awakened, immersing himself in her completely. 

He swallowed her cries as he stretched her with his width and length, her nails cutting through his skin, and her thighs squeezing him tight. He completely filled her, giving her no time to shore up defences and allowing no room for anything but the primitive demand to surrender. With every stroke, he claimed her while he drove inside her over and over. His hips rolling harder of their own volition with every smack of flesh and every whimper from her. And then just like that, with one perfect deep thrust, she convulsed underneath him in a climax. He listened to her moans of his name, treasuring the husky awe of them in his ears and around him. 

He tried to breathe and then tried to slow down, but there were too many emotions crashing over him to know anything but the need to make his mark. He'd never wanted anyone this bad and never felt wanted this much. Increasingly, a tightening began at the back of his neck and proceeded down his spine, curling at the base. Finally, letting himself go, he yanked her legs up and fucked into the storm for everything he was worth, chanting her name in reverence. 

His release was a flood that roared through him, creating a rush of white noise in his ears. His muscles tightened to the point of snapping before they unlocked. He shook violently, his lower body a battle zone of pleasure and pain and need and fulfilment. There's a harbour in the storm, though, and her body was already demanding him back, making the intense pleasure they've inflicted a beautiful thing they shared. With his insides razed and his mind blown, every cell in his body drifted toward Claire until they were wrapped together, arms and legs twined, mouths locked, their movements slowing little by little.

What just happened between them was the best everything in his life and nothing came close. Not even his glory days and triumphs in rugby.

In the past, usually, after sex came relief and it meant parting ways after the sweat had cooled. Jamie had never been anything but fine with that upshot because he barely knew the women to begin with. But now panic niggled at him, his chest throbbing painfully as his hand coasted over her body memorising her skin. If Claire asked him to leave now, he knew he wouldn't like it at all. 

Then her lips glided over his cheek, and he turned into them, inhaling through a lengthy kiss. His concern eased for a little while, a smile lifting at the corners of his mouth.

And then he realised something he never thought would ever happen - he'd never be able to touch another woman again without wishing for Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. He'd just made a pact with the devil, and now, he wondered, how in the world was he ever going to let this woman go?

..........

Claire slipped into the bathroom, careful not to make any noise. Jamie had spent the night and was sound asleep in her bed. He was facedown, spreadeagled, and his taut, naked arse a sight to behold. She put his sleepover down to him having too many drinks and leaving his car at the parking lot outside the bar where they had been in last night.

A sigh escaped her mouth, but she crammed it back up. She was a big girl and wasn't about to lose sight of reality and facts. Last night was nothing more than two consenting adults engaging in a temporary sexual relationship, and she reminded herself she'd agreed to it and any sticky feelings or thoughts of white picket fences had to be banished immediately.

Grabbing her toothbrush, she started to brush her teeth vigorously. She was beginning to sense like she'd set herself up for one epic downfall. What if Jamie suddenly realised that being in a permanent relationship wasn't a bad thing and found a different woman? Where would that leave her then?

Pushing all thoughts of the impending gloom away, Claire rinsed out her mouth and plonked her toothbrush in the glass. And then she laid out a spare for Jamie hoping that wouldn't cause an alarm and think she wanted more from him. But on second thought, maybe that was an unwise move. Muddled, she sighed and decided to wing it. It was just too bad she didn't have an example to look to.

She heard a deep groan from the bedroom, accompanied by the creaking of bedsprings. And suddenly, the memories of their lovemaking surfaced, making the inside of her thighs tensed, causing a twinge of soreness and muscle ache. Looking into the mirror, she found her face bright red and her eyes glowing. She looked   like an adolescent in puberty crisis.  Ah, fuck . Irritated, she fanned her cheeks with her hands, reprimanding herself for being silly and acting like a teenager.  So what if Jamie spent the night and he doesn't believe in happily ever after? You've always known the score! Suck it up, Beauchamp!

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Sassenach?"

"Yeah?"

Jamie's tone dropped. "Do ye mind coming back to bed?"

Oh!  She'd been worried he'd wake up panicking like a cornered male in the light of day, but as it turned out, she was so very wrong. Taking a fortifying breath, she opened the door and was greeted by a fully naked Jamie with an erect penis. "M-morning..." she croaked.

Holding her breath, she blinked twice and then gawked at the naked male marvel before her.  Oh, sweet mother of God , Jamie was lean, mean, and toned. There was not an ounce of softness visible on his body, from the breadth of his shoulders, abs, powerful arms, and bulky thighs. 

Oblivious to his erection jostling between them, he backed her into the bathroom, bringing her attention back to the present. "My shirt looks good on ye," he grinned, sleepily. "Why are ye up?"

As her back met the sink, she remembered the packaged toothbrush and casually pushed it into the basket. "I wasn't sure if you're an early riser or not, so I thought I'd make some preps for breakfast."

Without missing a beat, Jamie leaned past her and retrieved the toothbrush. Frowning, he popped the package open and slipped it into his hand. "It's seven in the morning, and we were up all night making love. Breakfast can wait a little longer." 

"Right, yeah ...umm."

Jamie applied toothpaste to his brush and stuck it in his mouth. "Why didn't I get a good morning kiss?"

"A good morning kiss?"

"Aye," He brushed his teeth and waited for an answer. 

"Ah ...well, I was going to. You were sound asleep, and you know ..."

He leaned over the sink and spat "No, I dinna ken. Are ye acting weird because I didn't leave last night as ye expected?"

"No, of course not!" Not wanting him to see the heat creeping up her face, she busied herself, looking for a towel for him to use.

He rinsed his mouth and placed his brush next to hers in the glass. "It's funny. I always thought morning afters consisted of cuddles."

"Y-yeah, it does."

He stopped and crossed his arms. "Hmmm. Why did ye chuck the toothbrush in the rubbish basket?"

Oh, fuck!  She laughed hysterically. "I think the jury of the court will agree it was an unfortunate mishap."

"Sassenach, I'm beginning to get annoyed. I still havenae received my good morning kiss, and ye intentionally discarded the toothbrush."

She couldn't help the giggle escaping her lips as she eyed his morning erection. "Aroused and annoyed, that's a first."

Her words still hanging in the air, he lunged forward and placed his hands on either side of her and leaned in. "Next time, Sassenach, I want proper good morning with a cuddle from ye. I dinna ken what one looks like, but still, I'd like to have one. Just so that ye ken, I wanted ye lying there when I opened my eyes." His mouth tugged in the corner, but his eyes were dark and serious. "Preferably, I want yer hands all over me and yer lips on mine. And next time ye get out of bed without giving me both, I'm going to turn ye over my knees and backhand that wee bum of yers ye had mercilessly wiggled against me all night. Am I making myself clear?"

"Jamie!" she gasped. "That's unethical!"

Jaws clenched, his eyes dropped down to the apex of her thighs. "Trust me, Sassenach, I wasnae thinking of ethics when I was kissing ye down there last night."

She gulped, her pulse racing a million miles per hour. "Ethics ...overrated anyway," she mumbled, not making any sense with her words.

"Weel, then, I'm gonnae take a shower. Ye can join me or wait, that's entirely up to ye. Either way, I want to see ye back in bed when I'm done because I'll still be wanting my good morning cuddle. Are we clear?"

Without another word, she nodded and did as she was told. And that morning they made love twice more and didn't leave bed until after midday.

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[rosegardentwilight]

Nothing Between Them but Me and a Wall

Summary:  In the aftermath of Oblivio, Adrien finds himself questioning things even more. Things become even more complicated as Adrien lands himself in a situation with Ladybug in his room, Marinette in the hallway; both girls confessing their love to him. He finds himself at a loss, but the one thing he does know, they can't know the other is there.

Pairings: Ladrien and Adrienette

A.n.- Two one-shots in one day. Wipes sweat off brow. I have been waiting to post this for at least a week. It is based off a song in a play called Gentleman's Guide to Murder called I Decided to Marry You [My favorite song from it].

This is for @bluetreeleaves, who has done nothing but support me, deals with any meltdowns, and has been a wonderful friend. I know you started to read some of it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

“I don’t understand it, Plagg!” Adrien stood up, his feet too anxious to stay still. For the past several hours, Adrien had been restless - staring at the Ladyblog’s newest picture featuring the second kiss that he couldn’t remember with his Lady. Was remembering one kiss too much to ask?

“Every time I bring up our kiss, she shoots it down. But Alya and Nino saw the whole thing, and they weren’t convinced.” He couldn’t blame her for saying no. He would’ve behaved the same way in an uncomfortable situation. But the only way they could piece together what happened Oblivio was if they communicated. Just because they didn’t remember the kiss didn’t make the picture any less real.

“This is why the only thing you should you concern yourself with is cheese,” Plagg snorted as he dove into his stash of Camembert.

It was foolish to think that his Lady would ever love him. He had been chasing her for the past couple of years, and every time he flirted or mentioned his feelings, she reminded him that her heartbeat for another. Adrien hadn't been able to find out more about the guy, despite his best efforts. Since Ladybug was so secretive, he figured he still had a chance.

The only way he stood a possibility of winning her affection was if Ladybug saw him for all he could be. Being Chat Noir allowed him to do that since she refused to know his true identity. Not that being Adrien Agreste would impress her much: Ladybug was never one to swoon over wealth or fame. All he had to offer besides his affluence was his fencing skills, Chinese, modeling, and puns; all in all, not impressive. Compared to other guys that could provide her the world, he didn’t have any experience being a boyfriend. Adrien could only pray that one day, she would realize that he was the one for her.  

The picture on the screen captured his attention once more, and Adrien sighed. Despite everything not in his favor, it was foolish to think he would ever stop loving her.

He flopped down on his bed, and his eyes fluttered closed. Maybe a little sleep would provide an escape from his mind.

“Adrien.” The familiar sultry-smooth voice stirred Adrien from the deep calling of slumber; his eyes squinted, adjusting to the light. He must have overslept! What day was it? Father would kill him—

“Adrien,” the voice repeated, filling the room.

Even with his brain not fully awake from the haze, he recognized the voice. His Lady!

“Ladybug?” Was he dreaming? Or worse, there was an akuma. “What are you doing here—not that I mind, but -” He stopped talking, taking the silence is better than a bumbling idiot approach.

“I was just in the neighborhood, and I saw your window open, but I can go if -”

“No!” The panic laced itself to the word as he jolted upright. He didn’t want her to think she wasn’t welcome. He hadn’t realized that his blanket dropped until Adrien felt her eyes dip down to his chest. Embarrassment flooded his system as he watched her facial features change.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, grabbing a nearby shirt to cover up.

“Don’t be.”

Wait- was Ladybug hitting on him?

Once he pulled his head through the hole, he noticed two things: Ladybug was much closer than she had been, and she was sitting on his bed absentmindedly drawing shapes into the silk sheets.

“You know, Adrien...” A smile spread wide as if they held secrets inside that he longed to know. Ladybug was but a mystery to him, even with his interactions as Chat Noir.

It was part of her charm to have him hanging on every word. But he wasn’t suited up, heck, he was barely dressed, and in either case, he felt vulnerable with her this close. Ladybug and Adrien had only encountered each other a few times. Just because she saved him from falling off a building one time didn’t mean they had a special connection; she would do that for anyone.

And when her bluebell eyes jumped up to meet him, he swallowed hard. Adrien decided he could get lost in that shade of blue for eternity and not once complain, especially when they looked like this. Ladybug’s eyes were bright with a mischievous light that she tried to hide, but he had already seen it.

“I swing by this house almost every day... and every time I can’t help but drive myself mad. To make matters worse, you have billboards all over Paris.”

Adrien’s face scrunched in confusion. “I’m sorry?” What else could he say to that? Had he done something to upset her? The thought made his stomach lurch. His mind raced to figure out what her grievance could be, but he could only draw a blank.

“I see that gorgeous face everywhere and know that he’s not mine.”

Wait—what ?

“My visit is purely a selfish one. After many nights of dreaming what it would be like if you kissed me senseless, I decided I couldn’t take it any longer.”

Adrien swore she could hear the way his heart pounded against his chest. He had waited years to hear these words, and now they melted into him, warming his insides.

“I like you, Adrien, and I was wondering -”

“Yes!” The word leaped from his heart to his tongue in a joyful cry. Whatever she wanted from him, he would gladly provide to his dying breath. Could he be so bold to assume that the guy she turned away his alter ego for was himself? His heart swelled in ecstasy, but he tried to keep his calm composure.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

His leaning into the gloved hand that slid onto his cheek reflected the way he yearned for her.

Then her lips met his.

The first couple of seconds, he let her lead, but every move she made coaxed him out of his shyness. Her words echoed in his mind: she had dreamed of him kissing her senseless. Today she would live out the fantasy. A spark and confidence set flame within, urging him on. His hands reached out for something to grab before making contact with her waist. He pulled her closer; the distance between them may as well have been miles. She gasped as she slid across the sheets and Adrien added the sound to one of his favorites, only to be topped by a whine when his kisses ventured off her lips In the direction of the exposed skin on her neck.

“Oh, Adrien,” she moaned, raising her hands to his blond hair and gave a small tug. He could listen to the way she repeated his name like a prayer.

Her fingers tilted his face up to meet her lips again, but this time, her lips parted, granting him access to explore her mouth. The only time they separated was for air and when Ladybug stripped his black shirt off him.

The sight of his skin must have lit something inside of her. She got so close to him that she was all that he could see. Adrien was fine with that: her presence was a promise of joy. Her lips were a promise of bliss.

She worked her way into his lap, and he would have given anything for her to stay there forever. Her feather touches induced shivers through his body.

“No marks,” he pleaded, but if she went against his wishes, then he would wear them proudly, so the world knew that he belonged to Ladybug. Her embrace was a treacherous place, making him crave more.  He moaned as her dangerous kisses danced across his left shoulder.

It would be easy to be consumed in the bliss that she provided, but he knew what he wanted. To hear her breathlessly whisper his name once more. He gripped her sides securely as he flipped her underneath him. His hands rested on either side of her shoulders and their legs tangled in the new embrace. Adrien began kissing any exposed skin that was within his reach. Ladybug was a woman that he could easily worship with his affection for all of his days.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin.

When Adrien was convinced that his lips had loved every inch accessible to him, he pulled back, his grin mirroring the happiness exploding in his chest. However, Ladybug’s expression didn’t match his, and his confidence started to falter. Did he do something wrong?

“You love me?”

If his confession scared her off, then he would be kicking himself later. The truth had nestled in the depths of his heart for so long that it had practically come to the surface unbidden.

“Yes.”

Adrien didn’t know what to expect: happiness, a smile that lit up the room, endless kisses. Instead, her lips tucked back in a forced smile; he knew all to well paired with a shade of sadness that was barely detectable.

She gently pushed him off her and stood off the bed. Adrien waited with bated breath.

“Ladybug?”

“You love the superhero that the media presents. You love the girl who saves Paris and puts her life on the line on the line every day, but I’m more than just a superhero. That’s only one side of me.”

But he had tried to get to know her, Adrien pleaded in his mind. Chat Noir had spent great lengths of time talking to Ladybug and holding tight to any information she let slip. She had been the one pushing to keep their identities a secret if he knew who she was, then he would make sure that she knew how much he loved her as a whole.

He scrambled off the bed until he was only two feet behind her. There had to be a way to convince her that his feelings were real. Adrien tentatively wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. She didn’t push him away.

“You’re wrong,” he whispered gently. The second that she had tumbled into his life, Adrien knew that he would be forever caught in her sway.

“I know that you care very much about your friends and family and you would do anything for them, but what makes you extraordinary is you would do the same for anyone in Paris, even those who annoy you. I know that you stretch yourself beyond your capabilities, and sometimes you feel like you are alone with the weight of being a superhero on your shoulders and the fear of failure in your stomach.” There was more that he wanted to say, but his mind kept grasping for words. “I see Ladybug.” She turned back towards him, eyes wide and tears pricking at the edges.

“My Ladybug.” Adrien rested his forehead on hers in hopes that some of what he said sunk in, “And I like her that way.”

Needy lips found his,  once more taking him off guard. No more words were said as their bodies communicated all that was needed as the two stumbled towards the bed. He fell onto his back, Ladybug making use of his shirtless status to start laying kisses down his chest.

A knock caused the two to freeze. Having anyone find Ladybug in his room was not an option, but on the other hand, he didn’t want her to leave. Immediately, he grabbed her hand to prevent her from moving anywhere.

“Nathalie,” Adrien called out. However, his concentration was fading fast due to Ladybug playing with his hair. “I’ll be down for breakfast in a couple of minutes.” If he could convince Nathalie to leave for a few minutes, he could give his love a proper goodbye.

“It’s not Nathalie,” the voice from the other side of the door replied.

Adrien’s body tensed. Unlike his father’s secretary, if he sent Marinette away, she would have questions that he wouldn’t know how to answer later. He could go and see what she wanted quickly and then have the rest of the day with Ladybug.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, squeezing her hands. “Don’t leave.”

He hopped off the bed and raced to the door. He didn’t know how he would be able to focus on whatever Marinette wanted with his heart pounding in his chest.

Adrien cracked the door wide enough to squeeze out but not give Marinette much of a look into his room. There were to bound to a couple of things she noticed.

“Marinette! What brings you here?”

Her body language clammed up as her hand went to grab her other arm and her toes began drawing shapes on the floor.

Was she ok?

“I—well you see, there is something I hoped to tell you, and if I don’t get it out now, I fear I never will.”

Her confession caught his attention. What could she possibly say now that couldn’t wait?

“Er—“ she looked both ways, her face flushed with color. “Could we possibly go into your room?”

“No!” The word ripped from his throat in a panic. Great—now he looked like a crazy person. But he couldn’t risk Marinette stumbling in there seeing Ladybug. “It’s a giant mess. I’d rather us stay right here.”

“Ok,” her voice was weaker than when she first started. Was having the privacy of the room that important? “I guess there’s no better way to say this than to come out right and say this. I mean, I’m sure you’re busy—with your schedule. Maybe I should just go, we can talk another time, maybe at school”-

“What is it, Marinette?”

“I like you!” She blurted out, and Adrien’s heart stopped.

He expected anything but that. He assumed that Marinette needed his help with homework or that she wanted him to taste a new batch of pastries for the bakery—but that she felt something towards him?

“And not in the friend way,” Marinette finished her thought before her eyes darted to meet his. “I’ve liked you for years now. I thought the feelings would go away, but they’ve only gotten stronger. And I know I’m not your ideal girlfriend material, but maybe you’d like to grab some ice cream sometime?”

The sweet, kind, talented, way-out-of-his-league classmate whose smile lit up a room when she walked inside liked him. His mind flashed forward to study sessions, late night FaceTime calls, and dates.

His heart flipped inside his chest. Somehow in all the time, they spent together, he had fallen for her without even realizing it.

But what about Ladybug?  

The gut-wrenching thought brought any daydreams to a screeching halt. Unfortunately, he barely had time to process what Marinette confessed, let alone answer, when a yelp and crash were coming from his room.  

“What was that? Is someone in there?”

Panic started to set in once more. There was no hiding or pretending he didn’t hear the noise. The absolute worst scenario was that Ladybug had found Plagg’s hiding spot. She was bound to give him a lecture for not being more careful, or worse be upset that he took advantage of his alter ego to kiss her.

Adrien could only hope that he was wrong. Despite whatever went down in his room, Marinette was waiting for an answer, and he couldn’t tell her the truth.

“Oh, that’s just our new manservant--” Adrien’s brain rapidly searched for a name until he blurted out, “Wadsworth.” His confidence was lost in his answer, but Marinette didn’t seem to question it.

“It’s his second day, and you know how my father can be. I’m going to check on him—stay here. I’ll be right back.” He closed the door and leaned against it, taking deep breaths to calm himself while ignoring the persistent shaking of his knees.

“Adrien?”

With his eyes closed, he could barely tell the difference between Ladybug’s and Marinette’s voices.  He cracked an eye open, and relief flooded him simply by the softness in his Lady’s eyes.

“Is everything alright? Who was out there?”

“Oh that was Marinette my—” Adrien stopped himself short, he couldn’t in good conscience call her a good friend, not when moments before his mind was daydreaming what it would be like to date her. “Well, she stopped by to ask me a question.” Being vague would only help his situation, but he couldn’t lie to her. “She— uh told me that she liked me, as more than a friend.”

“Do you like her back?”

“I don’t know,” he honestly confessed. “My heart had always belonged to you, but-”

Doubt piled up in his stomach as a realization, that for so long he had pushed down, bubbled to the surface.

“You should go out with her.”

Adrien’s mind came to a screeching halt for what felt like for the hundredth time that day. I this pattern continued, he might not live to see tomorrow.

What?

Surely, she didn’t know what she was saying and was still slightly distracted from their makeout session earlier. Ladybug was asking him to give up on her, but he didn’t know if he could. When he was with Marinette, his mind often drifted to Ladybug, full of desire, passion, and love. But when he was with Ladybug, he couldn’t stop thinking of Marinette, one of the girls he admired most in the whole world. She was talented beyond her years, warm, kind, and brought an air of home with her wherever she went. He was intoxicated merely by her presence. As much as he insisted, his heart remained with one girl, it circled the two, never ceasing. The thought made his head spin.

“Adrien?” A knock caught Adrien’s attention. No! Marinette mustn't see Ladybug in his room. He leaped to close the door as Mari began to turn the knob.

“Stay here. I’m not done with this conversation.” He had to hope that Ladybug would comply and not run the second he closed the door. Adrien was in no condition to finish his conversations with either girl with the room spinning around him. Why would she tell him to go out with Marinette right after she confessed she had a crush on him? Working to wedge himself through the door, he almost tripped and tumbled straight into Marinette.

“Are you okay?”

No—far from it. -

“Yes,” he lied. “I was just giving Wadsworth a list of things to do.”

“He needed a list of how to clean?” Marinette’s questioned, eyebrow raised.

“He’s new to this.” Adrien was fully aware of how ridiculous he sounded, but he couldn’t backpedal now. His best plan would be to change topics. “So you were saying before we got interrupted that you liked me.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time Adrien, and the more I spend time with you, the more I realize you’re the one that I want.” Maybe it was a reaction from the first time he ran away, but she had gone back to drawing shapes on the floor with minimal eye contact. “I see who you are, Adrien. Past the fake model smiles you wear when you’re uncomfortable, the way your eyes light up when playing UMS III, how you love your friends and try to please your father. But with all the love and affection you give, sometimes you forget that you need it too. I want to be that person for you.”

“Marinette, I would love to go out with you.” His answer was a gut reaction, but Adrien found he didn’t regret it one bit.

“Really?” Her face lit up with pure joy. “That’s so great--I can text you to find out when you’re free—unless it’s better to figure-”

Adrien smiled, watching her babble. He had come to love the way that she flustered under his gaze. She was super cute, and she probably didn’t realize it. He must have been distracted because he snapped back to reality when Marinette grabbed both sides of his face, and her lips met his.

His eyes closed, giving into the sensation of the kiss. His hands found their way to her hips and squeezed gently.

Marinette jumped away, much to his disappointment; her mouth agape and her cheeks sporting a color close to Ladybug’s suit.

“I’m sorry, I was just so excited—I shouldn’t have done that. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I’ve been dreaming of-” Marinette stopped her rambling, her face grew to a deeper shade of red. “I think I should go. I’ll talk to you at school tomorrow. Bye, Adrien!” She took off towards the stairs before he could object. He hadn’t expected the kiss, and although brief, it left his lips tingling.

Adrien turned back to the door, not sure how he would face his Lady. It was useless to deny that he enjoyed the kiss with Marinette, but he was unsure how to tell his partner that. Ladybug might have left even though he asked her not to.

To his relief—or dread— the second he opened the door to his room, his eyes landed on the red and black suit. Her bright blue eyes and loving smile caused him to swallow hard.

“She’s gone.” His mind was still swimming, but one answer kept repeating in his mind. “Ladybug, why did you tell me to go out with Marinette?” He didn’t know if his heart could take the hit if she told him there was another guy she has her eye on.

Ladybug took a couple of steps until she stood right in front of him. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as her hands stroked through his blonde locks.

“Because I can’t give you what you need. With Hawkmoth still after my Miraculous, I don’t want you anywhere near that danger. Maybe things will be different after he’s defeated.”

If only she knew.

“I might have some feelings for Marinette, but they’re nothing compared to how I feel for you.”

Ladybug leaned her head to rest her head on his. “Don’t you see, Adrien?”

If he tilted his head just a couple of inches, their lips would touch.

“ We’re the same.”

Adrien didn’t have time to process Ladybug’s words before she gently stole a kiss. The familiar senses washed over him. The smell of strawberries that he usually associated with Marinette, the sense of home and warmth, overwhelmed him. Adrien had never been more sure at that moment: Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A gasp tore through his lips as Adrien shot up from the sheets, sweat dripping from every part of his body.

A dream. It was a dream.

Dreams of Ladybug filled most nights, but they had never been like that. “Marinette is Ladybug,” he whispered, mostly to himself. His eyes darted back to the screen that still had the Ladynoir kiss plastered on the screen. Adrien’s eyes narrowed using all of his imagination to take the mask off of his partner. Once everything clicked, he couldn’t unsee it.

Marinette was Ladybug.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #miraculousfanfic #ladrien #adrienette #adrien x marinette #adrien x ladybug

[willows-adventures-in-words]

This is the first chapter to the story I’m currently working one. I might still edit some of it so I don’t know if I should tag this as ‘first draft’ or not... Also I can’t say when the next chapter will be out for this. I just wanted to share what I’m working on since I just know this story is going to be long considering I’m already on chapter 10. But if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I’m always open for some feedback.

And now I’m gonna ramble a bit more and tell how this story came to be. We (my husband and I) made the egos in the Sims. More like how I portrayed them in A Break from Reality. I played around with them for a bit before the idea for this story came to be. So I guess some aspects of this story is loosely based off of the Sims.

Life is Never What you Expect Chapter 1 Word Count: 3405

______________________________

“Are you sure you're okay with staying with them while I'm gone?” Anti sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame of the bedroom. He watched as Jack packed his suitcase. He was going to be traveling overseas to visit with friends and go to a wedding.

“You're the one who wanted me to go.”

Jack stopped, his hands resting on the shirt he packed and sighed. “I know. I know, I just...” He looked up to Anti. “It's not just going to be a few days this time. I want to make sure you'll be okay for so long.”

Anti stared at him for a moment. “I can handle it. But I did tell you I'm fine staying here if you suddenly have a problem with-”

“I don't have a problem with it,” Jack interrupted as he got to his feet to continue digging through his dresser. “I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay without me for a week.”

“And I've told you, I've done much longer than that.”

Jack paused. “Yeah. I remember,” he said quietly.

Anti shot a glare at him as he pushed himself off the door frame. “I told you I'm fine!” he exclaimed. “Stop fucking worrying about it.”

Looking back Jack saw him storming off down the hall and sighed. There was no point in continuing the discussion. Everything had been decided already earlier this week. Henrik, though cautious, agreed to let Anti stay with him and the others. Jack just couldn't help worrying a little. It was the kind of person he was.

With another sigh, Jack continued packing his clothes. His mind wandered off though. They had gotten into an argument when Jack first told him he was going on this trip. Anti had tried to talk him out of going, or to let him come with him. But Jack had told him he couldn't do that, either one of those choices. It was a vicious argument. Anti had threatened him. His threats don't usually mean much, but, when he had stormed off slamming the door as he left, it made Jack feel so lost. Empty yet anxious. He'd been gone all night and didn't come back until late the next day.

Eventually, Jack had called Henrik. Henrik knew about their situation and didn't like or trust it. And he'd told this to Jack countless times. Jack told him he didn't like the idea of leaving Anti alone. But leaving him with five people was better, Henrik had asked. Jack knew what he was implying and understood his concern. He promised Anti could behave himself. It took hours but in the end the doctor agreed to let Anti stay with him and the others.

Anti, however, didn't like that arrangement. He had insisted that he'd be fine alone. They were on the verge of another full-blown argument before Anti finally gave in. They both had conditions for each other. Jacks was that Anti had to talk to Henrik if he needed something. Not to try to tough it out and lock himself up in his room. And Antis for Jack... Jack glanced up at the clock. He'd rather keep his end of the bargain before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. Turning back to his suitcase, Jack shuffled through it making sure he had everything. Everything he could pack was packed. There was a change of clothes laid out on his dresser for tomorrow and as long as he'd remember to pack up his bathroom supplies after he used them in the morning he'd be fine.

There was an hour or two before he had to go to bed. Now was as good a time as any to get this over with; seeing as he would have some time to recuperate. Zipping up the suitcase, he lifted it and moved it to the floor by the dresser, next to his backpack. As he got up and turned to head out of his room, the lights suddenly went out. Jack froze. What happened? Did the power go out, he wondered. “Anti?” he called out but there was no response. His heart thudded loudly as he slowly made his way across the room. He found the door and felt around for the light switch. Flipping it a couple times resulted with nothing. Stepping in the hall, Jack realized that the power really must have died since the rest of the house was dark as well. What caused it though? And where did Anti go? Did he leave to fix it or did he take off before it went out?

Jack hardly finished his thought when he swore he saw some movement further down the hall. He didn't have a chance to react when he was shoved against the wall. Jack stumbled and an, oof slipped from his lips as his back hit the wall. The movements were quick, not leaving Jack much chance to try to get away. His hair was grabbed pulling his head to the side slightly to better expose his neck. Panic was starting to set in and he tried to pull away from them. That's when he felt the sharp canines graze his skin before puncturing. Jack cried out at the pain and tried once more to free himself from their grasp but their hold on him was too strong. He could feel himself bleeding. Could feel the vampire eagerly sucking at the puncture holes.

He should do something. Try to get away. Yell for help. Something. The man let go of Jack's hair as his posture slackened and wrapped his arm around him to hold him up. Jack opened his mouth but nothing came out, his mind blank. Everything stopped then. It was so sudden and Jacks mind swam with uncertainty. That's when they spoke. “Why didn't you yell for me?”

Jack blinked, confusion beginning to dissipate. “A-Anti?” Anti licked at the wound as it bled on its own. Jack shuddered. “You're an asshole,” he told him trying to stand on his own but felt woozy. “You seriously scared me.”

“That was the point,” Anti stated and watched as Jack leaned back against the wall. “Now answer my question.”

Jack swallowed. “I... I don't know.”

Anti stared at him. He licked the blood from his lips, then reached out and grabbed Jacks arm to pull him with him as he took Jack back into the bedroom without much trouble. Jack stumbled at first then leaned against him slightly, letting him guide him. “...If it wasn't me you'd be dead.” Jack looked away. Anti set him down on the bed before telling him he'd be back in a minute. A moment later Jack flinched as the lights came back on bringing a slight headache with it. Now that he could see again, Jack slowly shuffled himself back to lean against the headboard of the bed. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his neck.

The sound of the fridge opening could be heard from the other side of the house. Shortly after the squeak from the bathroom cabinet was heard. Anti entered the room carrying a cup, a banana, and bandages. Jack groaned. He didn't feel like drinking orange juice, but he was the one who had insisted Anti to make sure he drank some after. Jack had done research on what to do if you lost a lot of blood and what to do to help your body replenish it faster. They had settled on a sort of routine. After Anti would drink from him, preferably before he went to bed, Jack would at least drink a glass of orange juice.

Reluctantly, Jack accepted the cup and banana as the other man handed them to him. Anti sat down in front of him with the bandages. Turning his head slightly to the other side, Jack took a sip from the cup. He had a feeling that the vampire was agitated with him. And he was probably going to make it worse by asking questions. “Did you shut off the power?”

There was a brief pause before he answered. “I wanted to taste your fear again.”

“Well, it worked,” Jack grumbled before taking a bite from the banana. There was a moment before he suddenly felt breath on his neck and tensed. “Anti..?”

“I want more,” he murmured.

Jack turned his head slightly so he could see him better. “Don't. Anti I-” he felt Anti rest a hand on the other side of his neck.

“I can practically taste your fear.”

“I can't.” His heart thundered loudly. He tried to calm down but couldn't because he was scared. Scared that the vampire will take more. Scared to try to get away. Scared to fight back. He swallowed hard, neck still throbbing. Jack felt him lick up the blood again and squeezed his eyes shut. “Please.”

Slowly, Jack opened his eyes as he felt Anti pull back. Without a word, or eye contact, Anti applied the bandage before getting off the bed and leaving the room. Jack took a minute to calm himself down before he reached over for the cup he had set on his bedside table. He took a tentative sip of the juice. Suddenly he was very anxious about this trip. There was no way of knowing how this was going to go. Which meant Jack could only hope for the best.

When he finished the juice and banana, Jack slowly made his way off of the bed, wary of getting up to quickly. He felt so tired that he didn't bother taking care of either the cup or peel from the banana. Turning off the light, Jack sat back down on his bed before pulling off his jeans and abandoning them on the floor. He fell back onto the bed and shut his eyes. Jack was asleep within minutes; a rare occurrence for him.

- ~ - ~ -

Jack woke to the sound of the alarm on his phone. He groaned and rolled over to shut it off. Sleep hung heavily over him as he sat up. He sat there sheet now just covering his legs, as he tried to convince himself to get out of bed. Make some coffee. Take a shower. He'd be awake in no time. Finally, after a few minutes have past, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and, as he sat there, Jack realized something. The mess on his bed side table had been cleared. Not just that, but when he had fallen asleep he hadn't been laying fully on his bed or used the sheet. Jack reached up and touched the bandage on his neck. Sometime during the night Anti must have come in and tucked him in and taken care of the mess.

Pushing himself to his feet, Jack felt a little unsteady for a moment before he headed for the door still wearing the shirt from the day before that he had fallen asleep in. Coffee first, he decided, then shower. He'd have to double check his bags after that and make sure Anti packed a duffel for the days he'd be staying with Henrik. Jack stepped into the bathroom to relieve himself and paused to look in the mirror before he left. He didn't look great but he felt alright at least. Glancing over to the bandage he was thankful it was at the base of his neck, since with some luck he'd be able to hide it there. With a sigh he left the room.

Stepping into the living room, Jack looked around. All the curtains were pulled closed and there was a light on in the kitchen. All that separated the two rooms was the counter-top from the kitchen. Jack could smell the coffee brewing and a small smile touched his lips as he walked over and leaned against the counter between a couple of the bar stools. Anti was leaning against the opposite counter in the kitchen, with his arms crossed. He didn't acknowledge Jack and continued to stare at the coffee machine. The smile fell from Jack's face. “You alright?” When the silence lasted longer than the comfortable amount, Jack spoke up again. “I'm alright. You don't have to beat yourself up over yesterday.”

Anti glanced at him before he pushed himself off of the counter and grumbled, “I'm not,” before walking out of the room.

Jack watched him leave and decided against calling out to him. Instead he waited the little bit longer for the coffee to finish brewing and poured himself a cup. He took it with him to one of the windows in the living room and pulled the curtain back slightly to look outside. It was a gray day. Like it couldn't decide if it wanted to start raining or not. Perfect weather considering their plans. Jack pulled the curtain half open before he sat down on his couch and turned on the TV to check what the weather was going to be later as he drank his coffee. Apparently it was going to be like this all day.

After finishing his coffee, Jack turned the TV off and got up. After setting his cup in the sink, Jack headed back to his room and collected his clothes to go take a shower. He glanced in his spare room and noticed Anti lounging on the futon. Jack considered going to talk to him. He wanted to clear the air between them before he left, since he hated the thought of leaving on a sour note. Instead he headed to the bathroom with the thought of talking to him after he'd gotten everything else arranged.

Anti heard the water running in the bathroom. He hated this. This wasn't easy on him. It was a little over two months now and he hadn't planned for any of this. It would be so easy just to go back to how he was before Jack came into the picture. And last night proved it. All he would have to do is drain him dry. Except... he'd gotten attached. He hadn't expected to but he did. Jack had become a sort of anchor in his life. One he had so desperately needed. Anti had fallen so low that he had given Jack his word that he wouldn't drink from any more innocent people. That it would just be him.

There were times he missed things from his old life. Missed the taste of his victims fear. It was intoxicating. Other than the night before, the last time he'd had that was the first few times he drank from Jack. Jack had since lost his fear of him. Anti found himself resenting what he did last night. He hated how easily Jack forgave him for it. It just made him feel worse. The running water shut off. Anti glanced to the doorway. They'd be leaving soon. His eyes shifted down to the duffel next to the door. He'd given in and agreed to stay with that doctor friend of Jacks' while Jack took a vacation. The only possible way he could have argued staying here was if it was sunny out. But it ended up being dull and cloudy.

Jack left the bathroom and entered his bedroom. Anti could hear him shuffling about unzipping and zipping back up his bags. He left his room not long later and walked past the door, phone in hand. A moment later he was talking to someone. It sounded like a taxi service. They spoke for a few minutes before Jack appeared back in the doorway. “Hey, uh, are you going to be ready to go in ten minutes? Our ride is on the way.” Anti looked over, then pointed to his duffel. “Oh.” But then lingered in the doorway. Finally, he sighed and said, “Ok,” before walking off.

Back in the kitchen Jack wondered if he had time for another cup of coffee. Despite how tempting he decided against it and, disappointed, dumped it out and washed both the pot and cup. He walked around and opened a few more of the curtains, then headed back to his bedroom. Jack opened the curtain fully and collected his bags, keys, and wallet. Setting his bags down next to the front door, he took a breath. He felt sluggish and weak. Jack looked forward to getting some fresh air. Pulling open the door a light breeze greeted him. Looking back inside Jack called out, “Anti, I'm going to wait outside.” Picking up his bags he brought them out with him and laid them down on the porch next to him.

Suddenly a duffel bag was dropped out on the porch, just outside the door. Jack glanced down at the bag before turning to look back in the house. At first he didn't see Anti leaning against the wall next to the door. Jack opened his mouth to speak but stopped. Turning away he looked down his driveway. “Did I do something wrong?” There was no answer. “Please talk to me, Anti.”

There was a sort pause. “It's not you. Don't worry about it.”

Jack almost wanted to laugh. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but knew he wouldn't say. And even if he would, Jack didn't get the chance as a car pulled into his driveway. Kneeling down, Jack slung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up the handle for the suitcase. The man in the driver's seat stuck his arm out the window and waved at him. Jack smiled and waved back. At that moment Anti stepped outside and grabbed his duffel. Turning, Jack pulled the door closed and, removing his keys from his pocket, locked the door.

Anti hesitated before heading out to the car, glancing to the sky before following after Jack. The driver popped the trunk and the two deposited their bags inside before closing it and climbing in the backseat. “Hey, man, how you doing?” Jack asked as he closed his car door.

“Good, good.” Their driver commented as he started to back his car up. “Pretty early day for you isn't it? Going on a trip?”

Jack gave a laugh. “Suitcase give me away? A couple friends are getting married in America.”

“Oh, that's cool. So you need me to take you to the airport then?” He asked as he waited at the end of the driveway for directions.

Jack shook his head. “No, my friend Henrik told me he'd give me a ride there. You remember where he lives?”

The man flipped on his turn signal. “Pretty sure. Let me know if I take a wrong turn.”

“Sure thing.” Jack sat back in his seat before glancing over to Anti, who was staring out the window.

Anti remained quiet as he listened to them talk. He just wanted to get to the doctor’s house so he could get this week over with. The ride lasted close to a half hour and he was anxious the whole time. “Thanks again for the ride.” He heard Jack tell the driver before he paid for his service. Anti followed Jacks lead as he opened his car door.

“Yeah, no problem. Have a safe trip.”

Jack thanked him and the driver popped open the trunk for them to get their bags. After they collected their things and closed the trunk, Jack waved to him as he started to pull away. Anti looked up at the house, taking in its details as they approached the steps leading up onto the porch. A bike rested against the side of the porch next to the stairs. The only possible problem was how many windows the house had. He counted six along the front of the house as well as four upstairs. Despite that, it was a nice looking two story home. It looked... homie. Jack reached out and knocked. A moment later the door opened. “Hey, Henrik.”

“Jack, good to see you, my friend. Come in.” He paused as he glanced at Anti. “Both of you.”

#Jacksepticeye #JSE egos #Antisepticeye #Henrik von Schneeplestein #My writing #vampires #work in progress #JSE writing

[hamlets-ghost-zaddy]

st. jude (the patron of lost causes)

Part 4/8

Donald Malarkey x Reader

Summary: Bombs aren’t discerning, they aren’t sentimental, and they kill without discretion. It’s the truth that got you through Bastogne, when men came to you in tatters and their life blood flooded past the stoppage of your hands. It’s the harsh reality that whispers through your mind as you wonder why Renee and Anna died, and not you–why you were sent on a scavenging run at that precise moment. Then, when the church was shelled.

Moved to an evacuation hospital to tend to soldiers with ghosts in their eyes, you meet Buck Compton and his loyal sergeant, a man with a weight on his shoulders unknown to even Atlas. His name means bullshit, and somehow you find that appropriate: what he’s seen, what he’s gone through? It’s complete bullshit.

The evacuation hospital is set five miles back from the line, out of the sight-lines of German artillery but within range for ambulances or jeeps or whatever makeshift vehicle that has been commandeered for the wounded to come squealing up, loaded with groaning and bloodied men. It also means you have a clear view of the fireworks display, raining hellfire down on the frontlines, tonight.

Mortar blasts illuminate trees in great streaking paintbrush strokes of blue at their hearts, before flaring high into the pitch sky in tongues of orange and red. Two inhales and exhales—you number them, equal parts to count the explosions and to regulate your own too-short, too-high breath—separate the mortar hits, and flare ups, from the great booms of sound carrying through the snow-blanketed forest to you and Constance. Both of you squint against the flares of fiery light, both thinking of men being hit and wondering how many would be brought in before morning—wondering how much of them would be brought in, and if it was enough to save.

A breath catches, ragged, in your throat. Those men, those distant soldiers with featureless faces, who you hoped never to see (‘hoped’ because it meant they didn’t need you), suddenly all look like Malarkey in your imagination. Malarkeys scramble from foxhole to foxhole, dodging death and checking in with comrades, friends, soldiers who have become brothers. The tightness coiling in your chest jerks violently and for the first time since Malarkey entered your life and demanded a corner of your thoughts always be reserved for him, you desperately wish you never met.  

Fire falls like rain and, for the first time, you have someone to lose and you are completely powerless to cheat Fate’s hand.

Buck Compton has stayed too long. The evacuation hospital is a midway point between aid stations and proper hospitals, meant as a prepping station for men to continue on to better, cleaner facilities or to take a handful of days to sleep, recover, and return to the lines. You know it, have been expecting Dr. Schroder’s orders to come through for days now, but you still feel a dagger plunge and twist when you receive the written orders, making you stop short as you cross the short distance between Schroder’s tent-office and the ward.

The all-American boy is to be loaded on the next medical transport truck and sent off to recover, to collect his senses and fight off his demons—a battle you’re not equipped to help him wage in an evacuation hospital. “It’s for the best,” you mutter as you read the orders.

Constance, at your side, gives you a grim, close-lipped smile and touches your shoulder. “It’ll be alright, sweetness,” she says. You’ve heard her call the patients ‘sweetness’ in her molasses-thick accent, but never you. Suddenly, you understand why the men always warm under that endearment. “You can visit him soon. Don’t you have a weekend pass coming up?”

Technically, you have about five weekend passes owed to you since the beginning of the war, when taking time away of the hospital seemed unthinkable with the amount of wounded coming through. You don’t mind; you fear what being in the civilian world would do to you—if it would expose all the memories you try to hide from, if you would be staring into some mirror in some hotel room and not recognize yourself. Still, it’s kind of Constance to say, so you reply, “Yeah, I do.”

She nods, as if that settles matters, and gives your shoulder one last squeeze before striding ahead and ducking into the hospital tent. You can’t take your eyes off the order for a minute and when you finally rip your focus away, the tent flap has fluttered closed behind her. Taking one breath, then another, letting the winter air bathe your lungs, you’ve just convinced your feet to move when the rumble of a Jeep engine makes you turn instead. A hand held your brow allows you to see—

“Sergeant Malarkey!” is out of your mouth before you can consider how you embarrass yourself, how insane you sound. Yet, you can’t really find it in yourself to care, instead waving and grinning because he’s waving back, and smiling, and laughing—and fuck, it is just like how I thought it’d sound.

“Y/n!” he calls, jumping out of the Jeep before the orderly fully stops. He jogs to you, smile stretching impossibly wider, and grabs your hands. “Y/n, it’s so damn good to see you!”

A blush is rising in your cheeks against your will, and you smile eagerly into his face only for your breath to catch. It takes focus to keep the smile stretched on your lips: the darkness, the ghosts, have grayed his face entirely and though he smiles now, there’s something hot and feverish about it. He’s seen things, done things. He’s not as whole as when you saw him last. Oh, my dear Malarkey, whispers through your thoughts. What horrors did you see last night? You force out a reply: “You, too, Sergeant. It’s been quiet without you.” You’re proud of how even your voice is.

Some of the wild shine in his eyes dulls, and he seems to realize he’s holding your hands, that you are close. He doesn’t move away. “I’ve been thinking about how you…and, and Buck are doing. How are you? How’s he?”

Your thoughts, a freight train of worrying over the pieces of him lost on the frontlines—of the darkness—of the ghosts—grind to a halt because of course that’s why he’s here. Of course. Still, it hits you and leaves you gasping for air. “Oh, uh,” you fill into the silence. Suddenly, there’s an expanse between you. “Um, Buck’s…Buck’s okay, err, he will be. Once he gets back farther from the line. Getting away from hearing the mortars will do him a lot of good.”

Selfishly, though, you know Buck’s leaving will do you very little good. Without Lieutenant Compton, why would Malarkey visit the hospital?

Malarkey nods, tension you hadn’t noticed before easing from his shoulders. He still hasn’t released your hands, and instead he squeezes them. “You still haven’t said how you are,” he says. You shrug, and he reads exactly what you mean.

(I knew he’d understand, whispers through your mind before you can deride yourself for how fucking ridiculous that is).

“Come on, Buck will be anxious to see you,” you suggest, regretfully dropping his hands after one last, brief squeeze and you lead him into the hospital tent. It takes a moment, it always does, to blink against the dimness and allow your eyes to adjust. And, when it does, you meet Constance’s steady expression and the questioning quirk of her lips. Her eyes dart from you, to Malarkey at your back, to Buck sitting on his cot, packing his rucksack. A single, manicured eyebrow rises in a magnificent arch. You know Constance will corner you later, but for now you scuttle under her attention, waving Malarkey to Buck unnecessarily. “Take your time. I’ll come let you know when the truck for him arrives.”

Malarkey nods, gratitude in his eyes. You’re relieved to see that heat from his eyes is gone, whatever flurried craze he arrived in scrubbed from and leaving him just a little more shattered, just a little fissured with cracks. He moves from your side and, it may have been your imagination, but you thought you felt the briefest grazing of his hot skin against your wrist.

(How heat thrills up your muscles could be your imagination, too.)

Constance stations herself on one side of Buck, you on the other, and Malarkey leads the way, hefting the rucksack (apparently heavy with bricks from how Malarkey ribbed Buck over its weight). It takes all three of you acting as support to boost Buck into the back of the transport truck, Constance clambering up to instruct him for the umpteenth time on his medicinal regime. Buck, in good humor, grunts and rolls his eyes. Assuring her he’ll remember to take the little pill in an hour, the slightly larger pill in three hours, and yes he has water to wash them down. He rattles his canteen to emphasize this point.

Malarkey takes Constance’s place when she jumps down from the truck, pale blue skirts pluming, and you lead her a few yards away to give the men an allusion of privacy. Constance checks over her shoulder, never one for subtly, before whipping her face close to yours and whispering, “So, the Sergeant.”

You roll your eyes. “You always start off gossiping that way,” you point out, no bite in your voice. A grin twitches your lips.

Ignoring you, Constance insists, “I’m right though, aren’t I?” When you only shrug coyly, she squeals, clapping her hands. “Oh, you minx, giving me that red herring with the Lieutenant when it really was the Sergeant the whole time.” She puts her hands into her apron’s pockets, head-tilt consideringly as she angles herself to get a better look at Malarkey while pretending she really wasn’t looking. “There’s something solid about him. Something good.”

You blink at Constance, at how her voice dips in consideration, and you know you’re properly blushing now. You can feel the heat radiating off of you, even as you smile in delight, before bumping her shoulder with yours. “You say the most ridiculous things.”

Constance’s eyebrow arches, but she doesn’t reply beyond a smile. She turns her face to the morning sun sending white glares of light off the snow, breathing in until her chest swells wide. Measuredly, she exhales, a puff of condensation rising from her mouth, and her words are on a breath: “You deserve something good, some happiness.” Her eyes wander to yours. You never realized they have a hint of green in them. “I haven’t been here long, so what do I know, but it seems to me that happiness is a rare thing in this war.” Her smile never falters, but now, accompanied by the pinch of her brows. Her grin no longer makes her look naïve. She’s different, changed; in the hospital for less than two months, and already the war shows itself on her face.

You want to reply, say something profound to accompany her insight, but she squeezes your shoulder and moves away, returning to the hospital tent. The faintest hint of lavender perfume and rubbing alcohol trails her, distracting you from Malarkey jumping down from the truck and crunching across the frozen, dead grass to stand at your side. He gives you a crooked smile—an expression less meant to convey happiness and more solidarity—as he turns. The truck’s engine turns over, roaring to life. Buck raises a hand of farewell in the murkiness of the truck’s back, you and Malarkey waving back.

Your hands hang suspended until the truck rumbles out of the hospital’s field, swallowed by the road and the Ardennes. It takes a concentrated effort to warm your muscles and coax them into moving, lowering your hand only for your fingers to drift to your icon of St. Jude. The metal is cold under your fingertips, chilled by the winter freeze, and you stare at nothing at all as you trace its familiar ridges.

With the truck gone, you are faced with the habitual emptiness that always shells out your chest after one of your patients leave. It’s for the best, you know: he can’t receive the care he needs here or from you—not with the meager resources of the evac hospital—but the fledgling friendship forged over dog-eared books and oatmeal is over before it began. Despite yourself, despite the months of experience, you still allow yourself to care for the men who came into your care like your friends, like your brothers. Buck’s love letters, his blue eyes wide and seeing beyond the physical world are now details of yet another soldier to be added to your collection. And, as you say goodbye to Buck, in the same breath you must say goodbye to Malarkey.

Not allowing yourself to doubt your decision, you unclasp the necklace from around your neck, and cradle one of Malarkey’s hands in your own. The chain, cool and coiling like liquid, slithers into the basin of his palm. “Here.”

Malarkey blinks down at the necklace and you can feel his eyes swivel to you, warming your cheeks with their confusion, but you refuse to look at him just then. “I can’t take this,” he says.

“You have to,” you reply, more forceful than you realize. You didn’t mean to voice it—that this would be the last time you saw him—but the implication is a heavy lead in your tone and Malarkey hears it plainly. You swallow around the dryness in your throat, folding Malarkey’s fingers over the necklace. “I don’t really need it anymore and I…” After losing Anna and Renee, you doubt St. Jude is really listening much, but maybe he’d watch over Malarkey.

Silence. Then, Malarkey rumbles a low, “Huh.”

“What?”

“Well,” he says, scrubbing his free hand briefly through his hair. You can’t help peek up at his curls, standing on end and in disarray. “I just realized I’ve been praying to your saint over the past few days. I…I didn’t really do it consciously.”

“Then you have to take it,” you reply, eyes drifting to his. It’s only because you’re watching him intently, attempting to decode the shift in those brown eyes just as you know he’s trying to puzzle you out, that you see a spark of decision—realization—ignite in his eyes. A shade of the grayness recedes from his face.

“Alright.” He nods. “I will, but you’re going to have to help me, my fingers aren’t really meant for these tiny clasps.” He displays his squarish hands as proof. A sudden surge seizes you to cradle his hands, to kiss his callouses, and heat floods your face. Malarkey politely doesn’t notice, continuing: “My mom would always ask me to help with her necklaces, and it’d take me minutes on end to get it.”

A bubble of laughter escapes you at the mental image of a boyish, flustered Malarkey trying and failing to battle a necklace. “I wouldn’t force you to fend for yourself. Turn around, I’ll help,” you order, and he complies and your suddenly faced with broad, strong shoulders; with the flyway curls mussed by his helmet and his nervous fingers, and an expanse of neck that is the perfect height for you to stand on tiptoe and press a kiss against.

You reach around his shoulders to bring the chain around his neck, clasping it quickly and with as little physical contact as possible. “There.”

He turns back to you slowly (or maybe that’s your imagination again), looking strange wearing two necklaces. Yet, the thought of double holiness—the double blessing—settles you. St. Jude’s icon is in his hand, but his eyes are seeking yours. “I feel like I should give you something, too,” he offers, the words rattling in his chest, like he debated heatedly with himself if he should say them.

But, you think as that something in your chest connected to him feels less like pain and more like relief, thank God he did. “No,” you insist, shaking your head. “Please, don’t worry about. You don’t have to give me anything.”

Malarkey looks like he wants to protest, has something building in his chest to rebuke your insistence—something that will shake the very earth, the very foundations of reality—but an orderly barks then: “Sergeant, you headed back to the line? Shake a leg, or you’ll miss your chance!”

He drags his eyes from you to look at the orderly, nodding, before turning to blink back at you. Whatever he was going to say, whatever precious notion of your reality he was preparing to shatter, had been ripped from his mouth before it could be voiced. As you watch him go—you’ll never get used to watching him drive away from you, you know it—you wish every word secreted in his thoughts and secreted in words could be voiced and you could talk for ever and ever. You wished you could talk until you talked about nothing at all, and still then, you talked.

You wished there was time for talking, and the war and the dying and the ghosts didn’t cram the words back in your mouths and silence you.

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers fic #donald malarkey #donald malarkey imagine #donald malarkey x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #friendship #my writing

[brownjet-archive]

smuggled love {2}

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

summary: as (y/n) and bellamy continue to clash heads, an easy-ish yet strained bond forms between them. surviving just became a lot more difficult.  

wc: slightly less than 15.5k

warnings: have you watched the show?? Yeah, it’s like that; pain, blood, swearing, death, reader cries a lot and I have a limited vocabulary

an: takes place immediately where part 1 took off, so the first 1.5k words are literally before the first three minutes of the ep, and I fudged with the timeline a little but i’m too tired to fix it. shoutout to @pinkypiesjournal​, @mostbeautifulbroomstick, and @spiderboytotherescue for beta reading!

based of of The 100 episode Earth Kills (1x03)

TAGS AND READ MORE ON MOBILE MAY NOT BE WORKING

given that it’s 15k words and tumblr might not put on a read more i’m so sorry

“So, how much medicine can we use?” Clarke asked, and your hand went to your pocket, fishing out the bottle of painkillers, tossing it over to her. She rattled it, trying to gain a feel for how full it was, before popping the lid open, seeing that the seal was still on.

“One bottle of five hundred.” You said, watching as she examined the bottle. “It’s just acetaminophen.” You informed, as she popped the lid back on, tossing the bottle back to you. You caught it with one hand and placed it on top of the medicine crate, leaning against the crate in a way that you weren’t sitting but were nearly sitting. “And it’s all I could get.”

You stood up, lifting the crate with some difficulty, even if there wasn’t a necessarily large amount of medicine for a hundred people, it was still relatively heavy. You plopped the crate down in front of her and Bellamy, opening it, to reveal that there were a few complete first aid kids, a stack of reusable bandages, and, the few stitching supplies you were able to get.

You saw two very different looks flash over both of their faces, despite the same impressed look. Clarke was a bit in awe, though also looked very anxious, whereas Bellamy looked both angry and impressed.

“Where the hell did you get this?” He demanded, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You know about Nygel?” You asked, a cocky smirk on your face as they both nodded. “I’m way better than her.” You said, not wanting to explain how and where, knowing that what you said would mean more anyways.

Clarke stayed silent, and in your peripheral you saw her expression become more worried, and she open her mouth as if to begin to speak, before closing it, repeating that several times.

“It’s not enough, right?” You asked, so that she wouldn’t have to say it, to which a sad smile creeped onto her face as she nodded stiffly.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to have this, it’s just…” She trailed off.

“Not a lot.” You said, nodding in understanding, despite the pit settling in your stomach, a lingering sense that you could’ve gotten more, despite knowing that you couldn’t have.

“So, which crate we gonna take out first?” Bellamy asked, and you could hear the annoyance in his voice, boredom seeping into his tone.

“Tents would probably be most logical.” You said, moving over to the largest crate, picking up one end as Bellamy picked up the other, both of you struggling to move the heavy crate.

You breathily thanked Clarke as she opened the siding for the both of you, grunting as you maneuvered the large crate. You felt the weight of the crate lighten, looking over to see that Wells and Finn had both grabbed a side of the crate. The four of you set it down in front of the dropship, making a relatively loud noise, displacing some dirt.

You coughed as some dust went up your nose, squinting to avoid getting dust in your eyes fanning in front of your face to sort of clear out the air. The loud bang seemed to have attracted the rest of the hundred, all looking at the crate in awe, before looking between the four who had set down the crate.

You sighed deeply, still fanning the air in front of you, before addressing them, never really one for giving speeches. “There are fifty tents in this crate, they’re pretty small but we’re gonna have to make do. One tent for every two people, got it?” You asked, trying not to seem condescending, and people seemed to collectively nod.

“There’s some more stuff.” You continued loudly and quickly, not going to let Bellamy speak because otherwise he would do what he had been doing with the meat. The thought left a rotten taste in your mouth. “Soap, clothes, blankets. Everybody will get some, if they want to keep their band on or not!” You yelled, shooting a dirty glare at Bellamy. “We’re gonna bring out the other things, but for now choose a partner and get a tent.” You instructed.

You moved over to Wells and Finn, talking to them lowly. “You guys distribute them, I’ll keep an eye on Bellamy.” You told them, and it seems that you looked determined enough for them not to argue.

“Blake! Atom!” You yelled to them. “You’re with me.” You said, turning around and beginning to walk back to pick up more crates, wincing momentarily as you felt a sharp pain in your leg, feeling your calf begin to throb.

You continued on, grabbing the next biggest crate with the other two lifting up their sides with relative ease, and you held up your side slightly lower than theirs, trying to hide your slight limp as you brought the crate, filled with blankets, back to the front.

This continued for about an hour, till nearly the whole camp had gotten their personal supplies: one toothbrush, two bars of soap, three vats of communal shampoo and conditioner, one towel, one blanket, one spare set of clothes and a tent to share with someone else.

You let out a slight groan as you helped a girl who had volunteered to carry crates, Zoe Monroe, load the large crate filled with feminine hygiene products and condoms into the front of the dropship, Bellamy following, carrying the first aid crate.

You let out a small huff as you dropped the wooden crate on the ground, smiling softly and thanking Monroe as she left, before sitting down on the crate, grateful to be off of your leg.

You closed your eyes in relief, hearing a few brief whispers, before feeling a hand on your leg, your eyes shooting open, your reflex to kick the person away. “What are you doing?” You screeched at Clarke, feeling a bit bad that you had nearly kicked her, but still frightened.

“I’m checking your leg.” She said firmly, looking down at you with a look that dared you to disagree. You stayed quiet as she bent down in front of you, before clearing her throat awkwardly. “You’re gonna have to take off your pants.” She said, and you smiled awkwardly, before standing up and taking off your pants, holding them against your chest, feeling far too exposed.

You felt her unravel the bandage, and you hissed as the fresh air came in contact with the wound.

“You can move your leg around fine, yeah?” She asked.

You nodded in response, scratching the back of your head. “It just hurts, mostly from exhaustion.” You told her, and she nodded.

“It doesn’t look that deep, so stitches are unnecessary.” She told you while cleaning out the wound, and you nodded.

“That’s kind of what I figured.” You told her, and she offered you a small smile.

“So, try to keep off of it, and come see me every few days for it.” She informed you, applying a layer of gauze on the wound before tightly wrapping the bandage around the cut.

“Thanks.” You said softly, gently putting your bandaged leg through your pants, moving to stand up only when you needed to shimmy your pants over your hips, buttoning them and doing the zipper really quickly.

“No problem. I should go check on Jasper, though.” She said, moving to go back upstairs to where Jasper was, before gripping her shoulder.

“No, Clarke. You need to get some rest.” You told her, trying to convince her into getting a few hours of sleep. “I’ll sit by Jasper and if there’s trouble, I’ll wake you up immediately, how’s that?” You suggested, though you made it clear that that is what was going to happen.

“Sure.” She simply said, climbing up the ladder in the center of the dropship. “But, I’m gonna sleep up here.” She yelled down from the ladder.

“Fair enough.” You decided, hobbling over to the ladder, before realizing that you were screwed. You just shrugged your shoulders, and began the climb up the six-rung ladder, gritting your teeth the entire way up, feeling sharp pains shooting through your leg, before you reached the top, your feet dangling in the trap door and you figured that was good enough.

You smiled softly when you realized that Clarke was already asleep, and you looked around to see Monty and Octavia sitting next to Jasper, both asleep, your smile widening a little as you felt your heart melt a little bit, filled with an overpowering love for your friends, even if you had just truly met Clarke and Octavia.  

You scooted over to the general area where Jasper was, leaning your back against the wall of the dropship, sitting in the silence for the next few hours, trying to ignore the worries you had about Jasper and Dave.

It was quiet for awhile; Octavia had woken up and quietly excused herself. About an hour after she had left, you heard whimpers and looked over to see Jasper writhing in pain, every alarm in your head going off.

“Hey, hey, hey.” You whispered, scooching closer to him, running your hand over your face, trying to soothe him, becoming alarmed at how hot his skin felt.

“Clarke!” You whisper yelled, standing up and limping across the room as fast as you could, feeling bad that you had to wake her up, though Jasper was slowly growing louder and louder. “Clarke!” You whispered loudly, shaking her slightly, seeing her eyes open, a startled look on her face.

You had an apologetic smile on your face, before Jasper started moaning in pain again, and you saw her face eyes widen, before she rushed over to Jasper, and began soothing him. You limped over, sitting down on the other side of him, moving to hold his hand. “His fever’s too high.” You commented, and she nodded in agreement, silently reassuring you that you had done right in waking her up. You gently brought his hand up to your lips, gently kissing his hand, trying to soothe him, though it was more for your own peace of mind than his.

You looked up and saw that Monty had awaken, and had crawled to the other side of the room, and you saw the guilt instantly flash in his eyes, looking over at Jasper. He stood up and moved towards you, gently sitting down next to you, gripping lightly at Jasper’s wrist, offering a small sad smile directed towards Jasper, whispering quietly to him that he was going to be fine. You felt your heart break; you didn’t want to see your friends so hurt.

At some point as Jasper grew louder, Monty moved back to where he was before, grief and guilt overtaking him as he looked over every so often, a look of shame across his face. You smiled sympathetically at him, understanding in your eyes.

“His pulse is 380.” Clarke whispered, and you felt your own heart beat increase at hearing that. Your heart was caught in your throat, knowing that having such a high pulse was really, really bad.

“Shut the fuck up!” “Go back to sleep!” People yelled as Jasper continued to whimper in pain, and you felt anger overtaking you, angry unshed tears burning in your eyes.

“Sh, don’t listen to them.” Both you and Clarke reassured softly, as you gently squeezed on his hand to reassure him that you were there.

“You’re gonna make it through this, I promise.” Clarke said, and you looked over at her, seeing that she avoided eye contact with you, and you knew then that at this moment, his chances were looking slim.

“Can he just die already?” Someone from below yelled, and you inhaled shakily, the tears falling from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, as you stubbornly wiped them away with the back of your hand.

“Don’t listen to them.” You murmured to him, gently carding your fingers through his hair with your other hand, and you were unsure if he had calmed down a little, seeming a little more peaceful.

“I’m gonna get clean water.” Clarke announced, and you could hear the anger, exhaustion, and, exasperation in her tone. “Keep an eye on him.” She commanded, and Monty moved over to sit where she had, immediately grabbing hold of Jasper’s hand, his gaze deliberately avoiding yours.

You looked over at him, closing your eyes momentarily as Jasper groaned loudly, feeling more tears threatening to fall. You opened your eyes, whispering softly to Jasper, as he calmed down a little more. “It’s not your fault.” You said softly, this time directing your words towards Monty.

He sighed deeply, and you looked over at him to see him on the verge of tears, his lower lip trembling. “Yes it is.” He whispered out croakily.

“Hey.” You whispered, moving your hand from Jasper’s and placed it over Monty’s squeezing a little. “It’s not.” You reassured gently. “You caused this is no way.” You continued, your eyes filling with tears.

He smiled at you sadly, and you knew that he wouldn’t believe you, so you instead squeezed his hand once more, leaning over to gently kiss him on the cheek, before standing up. “I’m gonna go see where Clarke went.” You told him, wanting to give Monty some space, limping to the trap door, before hobbling down the ladder, wincing as sharp pains shot through your calf.

“Whoa, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You heard someone demand, and turned to face Bellamy.

“Finding Clarke.” You said tiredly, trying to discreetly wipe the unshed tears away by pretending to rub your eyes, before putting your finger up to your lip to signal for him to be quieter, pointing upstairs to remind him that Jasper was up there.

“Not on that leg.” He said, almost scoffing, and you rolled your eyes, limping out of the dropship, ignoring him, scanning the area for Clarke. “Were you trying to climb up the ladder?” He asked, and you could hear a hint of scolding in his voice.

“No, I was climbing down it.” You replied, not really thinking about what you were saying, feeling his annoyance with you grow, waving him off, before you heard a scream that definitely did not come from Jasper, and you dashed off in the direction of it, despite Bellamy shouting at you to not run, and the pain it caused.

You found the source very quickly, seeing Clarke talking to a twelve year old girl, and instantly you found yourself mad at the shitty government. You walked over, and saw that Clarke was holding the water, her arm around the younger girl.

She saw you, and smiled slightly, before turning to the other girl. “Hey, Charlotte. My good friend (y/n) here will sit with ya? How does that sound?” She asked, and you waved slightly to the little girl, a small smile on your face.

She nodded carefully, regarding you with slightly scared eyes. “Okay.” She said, her voice meek, and Clarke stood up, running for the dropship as you moved to sit next to the girl, letting out an ‘oomph’ as you hit the ground a bit harder than expected.

“Charlotte’s a really pretty name.” You told her, and you immediately saw her worry vanish, a small smile spreading carefully across her face, a guard still up.

“So’s (y/n).” She said, returning your compliment, causing a smile to appear across your face, and her face finally relaxed, her body loosing, her posture becoming slightly more relaxed.

“So, you had a nightmare, huh?” You asked, keeping your tone light, and you saw her nod. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You asked, and she moved a little closer to you, resting her head slightly on your shoulder.

“I already told Clarke.” She admitted.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You told her, and she offered you a grateful smile.

“Jack told me about you.” She said, changing the subject. “He said that you’re really nice and you stand up for people.” She said, causing you to laugh a little.

“Some would argue about the nice part.” You quipped, and you saw her genuinely smile a little, warming your heart.

She took a deep breath, and your expression changed to worried as she began to cry silently, and you immediately wrapped your arms around her, allowing her to sob into you. You gently whispered to her, kissing the top of her head, trying your best to comfort the twelve year old, though ultimately felt ast an impasse.

She stopped crying for a little bit, and you loosened your grip on her, allowing her to pull away from you. You gently wiped away her tears, offering her a sad smile, taking her hand and squeezing lightly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, and you saw a few more tears fall from her eyes, a small hiccup wracking her body.

“I have nightmares about my parents. They got floated, and, and…” She blubbered, before crying again, silent sobs wracking her body, and you wrapped your arms around her, feeling your heart break.

“I understand.” You whispered to her. “My parents were floated when I was about six.” You admitted, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying, not for your parents but rather for hers. “Actually, I was probably younger.” You said, as you thought about it. “I wasn’t old enough to grasp the concept of death.”

“Was it hard?” She asked, her voice trembling, looking up at you with tear stained cheeks.

You shrugged slightly, a sad sympathetic smile on your face. “I was too young to actually remember my parents.” You said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she leaned into you. “You’re strong, Charlotte.” You whispered to her.

“You get some rest, yeah?” You murmured, as she nodded sleepily, already dozing off. “I’m gonna stay here, don’t worry.” You whispered, as she fell asleep.

“Thank you.” She murmured, before soft snores emitted from her body, and you kissed the top of her head, before falling asleep yourself.

—

You awoke to see that Charlotte had gotten up already, and you smiled lightly. You moved to stand up, your legs buckling under you as your weight shifted. You inhaled deeply, placing your hands behind you on the tree trunk for support, as you slowly lifted yourself up, limping towards the center of the camp to find that everyone had seemingly fell back into a consistent rhythm.

You looked around, doing a quick mental check, alarms going off in your head as you noticed that two people were missing. “Where the hell is Trina and Pascal?” You asked rather loudly, to which people didn’t really seem to care.

“Atom’s leading a search party for them.” Bellamy called out to you, engaged in conversation with Murphy a few feet from the tree you had been sleeping at, before glancing down at your leg and then up at your face. “Why the hell are you walking?”

“You and Atom okay, then?” You asked, ignoring his second question, knowing that something had happened between the two of them because Atom made out with Octavia? You were unsure and didn’t really care.

He just nodded briefly, trowing an ax at a tree, embedding itself in the bark, as Atom and the others strutted up. “We searched a half mile, all directions. No sign of Trina or Pascal.” Atom said.

“Why didn’t you search more?” You demanded, worry seeping into your tone, although logically you understood why they didn’t.

“Visit your special tree when you were out there?” Murphy drawled, confusing you slightly, and you saw a look of shame flit across Atom’s face, realization hitting you, your body shaking with anger, though you tried to contain in, settling for physically vibrating where you stood.

“Atom took his punishment. Let it go.” Bellamy ordered Murphy, and that was a bit too much. You turned on your heel to face him, glaring dangerously at him, your hand in fists, shaking by your sides, your jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell did you do!?” You spat at him, and he you gasped, appalled, when he half rolled his eyes.

“Could be grounders.” Atom suggested, effectively interrupting you, and you turned away from Bellamy, considering elbowing him in the stomach, though decided not to, to try and remain at least a little bit civil.

“Yeah, or they could just be in pound town.” Murphy droned, and you felt yourself beginning to shake with anger once more as Atom looked away from Murphy. “Lot of that going around recently.” Murphy continued, both you and Bellamy both shooting him a dirty look, Bellamy walking up to the tree, retrieving his ax.

You saw Atom glance over, away from the small group, and your gaze followed his, settling on Octavia. It seemed that she noticed you as she gave a small wave which you returned, Atom effectively ignoring her, as he turned away to face the older Blake sibling.

“Look, Bellamy.” He began, as you hobbled over the three or so feet to be a little closer. “People are scared, and that dying kid. He’s not helping the morale around here.”

You took in a shaky breath, anger flooding through your system, before you felt yourself overflowing, immediately yelling at Atom, your arms flailing around dangerously to emphasize your point. “That, dying kid,” you spat out, feeling your nails digging dangerously into the palms of your hands, “saved Octavia’s life. That, dying kid, is my friend, so why don’t you shut the fuck up!” You yelled at him, so angry that tears began to fall from your eyes, knowing that your argument had derailed, but it didn’t matter. Nobody was going to trash your friends. Not even another friend.

You lips quivered, hot, angry tears burning in your eyes at you glared at him, feeling a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and almost immediately you didn’t feel angry. You looked over your shoulder briefly, and saw Bellamy standing there, a rather stoic look on his face, though as he made brief eye contact with you, his face softened ever so slightly, and immediately you felt your anger melt away, only left with a pit in your stomach, the nausea that tends to follow your angry outbursts. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath, and immediately noticed the regret in Atom’s eyes, which made you feel a bit ashamed for your outburst.

“Morale will go up when I find them more food.” Bellamy said quickly after your outburst, his response a bit pointed, as he gently removing his hand from your shoulder.

“What do we say when they ask about Trina and Pascal?” A kid asked, and you were a bit embarrassed that you did not remember his name.

“They’re probably lost.” You said surely, trying to reassure yourself that the were probably lost, despite the gut feeling that something was wrong.

“Now? Nothing.” Bellamy said gruffly. “(y/l/n)’s right, they’re probably lost.” He said, reiterating your point. “Keep an eye out for them when we go hunting later.” He said, and you took that as your cue to leave the little group, hobbling back towards the dropship, not noticing that Bellamy and Murphy had lingered behind.

You sighed as you entered the dropship, staring up at the little ladder, closing your eyes tightly. And before all of your confidence abandoned you, you started up the ladder, gritting your teeth as pain shot up your left leg. You hissed slightly as you managed to get to the top of the ladder, sitting in the trapdoor for a moment, before pulling your legs up onto the second level, as you limped over to where Jasper was, immediately grabbing his hand.

“The medicine working?” You asked Clarke who was hovering over Jasper, cleaning out his wounds, a perplexed look on her face.

She just shook her head sadly. The perplexed look returned, as the inspected the poultice (you think that’s what she had called it), before speaking. “The grounders cauterized the wound. Saved his life.”

“Couldn’t you use that for medicine?” You suggested.

“Saved his life so they could string him up for live bait.” You did a double take as you heard Finn’s voice, not realizing that he had been up there, your sole focus being Jasper.

“This is infected. It could be septic.” Clarke said, ignoring the both of you, turning frantically towards Monty. “Any progress on using the wristbands to contact the Ark?”

You tuned out momentarily, your face scrunching up as you tried to keep yourself from crying, and you felt a reassuring hand resting on top of yours, your eyes jolting open to see Wells giving you a sad, sympathetic smile.

You responded with a sad teary smile, as he let go, and you discreetly tried to wipe the unshed tears from your eyes, before standing up and hobbling over towards Monty, tuning out of whatever menial spat Wells and Clarke were having, sitting on the floor next to his chair, immediately grabbing his hand, squeezing gently.

He turned towards you, and you immediately saw the distraught in his eyes, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “It wasn’t your fault.” You reassured, though from the broken look in his eyes, you knew he didn’t believe that. You didn’t really blame him; had you been him, you wouldn’t have believed you either.

“Alright, you wanna help? Hold him down.” Clarke commanded, and you immediately knew that whatever happened next, you would not be able to stomach.

“Hey, I’m gonna go help with hunting.” You said shakily, though no one was really hunting, and you gently squeezed Monty’s hand before hissing in pain as you jumped down the rungs of the ladder, trying to put as much distance between yourself and reality as you could.

You panted slightly as you reached the bottom of the ladder, looking over to see Atom sitting near the foot of the ladder. You didn’t really pay much attention to him, as you hobbled over to the miscellaneous crate, overlooking a small box in your zeal to leave, pulling out a spool of twine. You looked over and saw that Octavia had entered the dropship, and you immediately began to move faster, wanting to avoid whatever their conversation was about, as it seemed a bit personal.

You exited the dropship as Jasper bellowed in pain, your hands moving to cover your ears to keep from listening to the cries of your friend, biting down on your lip to keep from screaming out in anguish, as tears fell from your eyes. You felt your heart breaking for your friend, and you closed your eyes, trying to shut it out, as Octavia rushed past you into the dropship, confusing you a bit because you had just seen her inside of it.

The scream stopped, and it remained eerily calm for a second, your stomach dropping in fear that the worst had happened, but as you heard another groan of pain, you felt your pulse begin to regulate. You took a painful step away from the dropship, your bottom lip quivering as tears pooled in your eyes, each step you took away from the dropship -from Jasper- becoming harder and harder.

You closed your eyes briefly, taking a shaky breath, before you hobbled out of camp, pushing your anxiety deep down, your sole focus having to be finding a meal for everyone.

—

You had been walking for about an hour, before you finally stopped, leaning on a tree to rest for a brief second, before scoping the area slightly. It was at the top of a slight hill, the bottom secluded with some rocks which would make a good vantage point, as you pulled out the twine, setting two traps; one which would be better for catching small creatures and one better for catching larger ones.

You took out your knife, and quickly jabbed the tree, wincing as you did so, you didn’t want to hurt the tree giving you a marker as the where the trap was. True, these traps were really only practical with someone waiting nearby, because if the animal had too much time they would most likely be able to free themselves. But it was more important, you decided, to set up multiple traps so that the odds of catching something would be a little higher.  

You meandered around for a few more minutes, before walking limping towards a different section of the forest, which was a little closer to the camp, though in a place that was far enough away that animals wouldn’t be scared away.  

You set up a trap, and looked around, seeing a good perch a few yards away, before you sat down, wincing slightly as you did so, your leg throbbing in pain. It slowly ebbed away the longer you sat, and you glanced down at your watch, and saw that only ten minutes had passed before you stood up, hearing the oinking of a warthog, as you creeped closer to it, seeing it head in the direction of your trap.

You looked around, and saw a head of hair moving around in the tall ferns, a hand shooting up to cover your mouth, unsure of if it was a group from camp or grounders. They shifted forward, and you saw Bellamy’s face, and you relaxed a bit, slowly moving forward in the ferns towards the pig, hoping that it would walk into the trap.

A tree branch snapped from behind you, and you saw an ax fly through the air, and you ran in the direction the ax had been thrown, ignoring the pig that was running away.

“Charlotte!” You cried out, as you saw the ax embedded in the tree next to her, a small smile spread across her face as you wrapped your arms around her, enveloping her tightly in your arms.

You heard a sigh from behind you. “Oh great, you’re here too.” Bellamy mumbled, and you let go of Charlotte, and turned around to see Bellamy’s eyes closed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, before he sighed once more.

“I’m not little.” Charlotte said, letting you know that you had walked in on the middle of some conversation, and you slowly moved away, heading in the direction in which the pig had went, letting them continue their conversation.

“I’m not done with you, (y/l/n)!” Bellamy yelled out, after you.

“That’s great, Blake!” You sassed, waving your hand at him, not bothering to turn around. You ignored him, purposefully veering off of the path from where the pig had gone, because you had left camp to be away from people. If you were going to be around people, you’d rather it be around people you liked. And you didn’t like Bellamy and his little posse.

You had been wandering for about 10 minutes, when you came upon a little clearing, and set up another trap, when you heard a bellow in the distance, and you looked up from where you had been squatting, seeing a large plume of yellow fog, and you felt your feet rooted in place.

You saw Bellamy running towards you, grabbing Charlotte, before you felt your wrist being yanked, as he pulled you with them. You ran with them, faster than you could painlessly, a slight whimper escaping you as the pain spread throughout your leg, feeling as if your calf was on fire.

He motioned for you and Charlotte to climb up the small little hill, and he gently pushed her into the cave. You lingered in the mouth of the cave, seeing Bellamy look around frantically, hearing someone scream his name, though the fog was now surrounding him, and you grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside of the cave.

You both walked speedily, reaching the end of the cave where Charlotte was, and saw her sitting on some rocks, and as you looked at her you saw the exhaustion settle on her face.

“You should get some rest.” You told her, as you sat down next to Bellamy. “We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here.”

That seemed to do the trick, because after about five minutes she got comfortable and was almost immediately asleep, you and Bellamy sitting down, your heart beating rapidly, exhaustion settling into your limbs.

You took a deep breath as you laid you head back against the wall of the cave, closing your eyes briefly, before opening them to see Bellamy’s angry gaze on you.

“What?” You asked, not in the mood for whatever he had to say.

“What the hell were you doing?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

“I was setting up traps.” You said, and he looked at you blankly. “You know, for hunting?” You said condescendingly.

His face lit up with realization, before he shook his head, scoffing slightly. “We didn’t think of that.” He admitted quietly.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Of course you didn’t. You never think about anything.” You said, your exasperation seeping into your light tone.

“You’re one to talk.” He quipped, and you glared at him, as if daring him to continue. “You’re not supposed to be walking around on your leg.” He scolded, motioning towards your leg.

“Clarke said it was fine.” You lied, trying to keep yourself from wincing as the pain in your leg started to throb a bit more.

He gave you a look, rolling his eyes. “No she didn’t.”

“Yes she did.” You said, a fake smile pulled across your face as your face scrunched up.

“No she didn’t because she told me that you weren’t allowed to be on your leg. Also, you should elevate your leg.” He said, and you were a bit flabbergasted, at a loss for words. When had they had this conversation? What? Why? They had talked about you?

Your mouth was slightly agape, a look of disgusted confusion on your face, as you sat there, trying to piece together what to say. He sighed deeply in exasperation, and gently gripped your leg, pulling it slightly so that it was draped across his legs, your hips touching, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What are you doing?” You said frantically, your voice high and squeaky, feeling a bit uncomfortable being so close to someone.

“Elevating your leg.” He replied, as if it were obvious.

You stared at him in confusion for a few seconds, before shaking your head returning to his previous question. “Clarke said that I should avoid being on my leg.” You corrected, and he snorted slightly, and you could practically hear him roll his eyes.

“So then why’d your stubborn ass not listen to her?” He asked, and you stared at him, in slightly disbelief, scoffing while shaking your head.

“You’re one to talk, Blake.” You said, and he laughed slightly, shaking his head.

“I’m not the one with an injury.” He reminded you, and you shrugged your shoulders, laughing bitterly, the tone of the conversation changing.

“Bellamy.” You began, and he chose not to comment on the fact that this was the first time you had said his name as opposed to Blake other than the time you had screeched because you though a giant panther was gonna kill him, and he decided that he quite liked the way his name sounded on your lips, sounding far more natural than Blake. “We’re trapped down here.” You said, your voice slightly shaky. “We have no idea how to survive, and literally everything is killing us. Forget the grounders for a moment, we still don’t know how to survive. If I stay off my leg, I’m a sitting duck.” You said, laughing bitterly, feeling tears prickling at your eyes.

“Yeah, but you just slow everyone down with your leg.” He said rather callously, and immediately regretted it as you sniffled slightly, trying to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Bellamy, I’m not even eighteen.” You said, your voice cracking. “I don’t want to die.” Your voice quivered, and you brought your hands up to your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears, a small teary laugh escaping your mouth.

He sighed deeply, regret etched onto his features, and he subconsciously moved to drape his arm over your shoulders, but instantly stopped himself, resulting in his arm jerking slightly. He closed his eyes momentarily, before changing the subject. “Does your leg hurt?” He asked carefully, not letting his worry seep into his tone.

You instantly nodded, not realizing exactly how much it was hurting, feeling a much more acute sense of pain now that it had been mentioned. “There’s not really much I can do.” You told him, trying to focus on something other than the pain.

“Yeah, I’m sor-”

“Sorry.” You interrupted him, teeth gritted through the pain. “Can we talk about something else? Talking about this makes my leg hurt more.” You told him, indirectly indicating that you needed a distraction.  

His eyes widened briefly, before he nodded awkwardly, a bit mechanically. He cleared his throat, slightly. “Did you get any sleep last night?” He asked.

“Yeah, like two hours.” You said shrugging slightly, exhaustion seeping into your very being, as the last of the adrenaline wore off, trying to fight off the exhaustion.

“You should rest.” He commented, and you scoffed rolling your eyes.

“I’m not tired.” You say stubbornly, stifling a yawn immediately after saying it, your eyelids becoming heavier as you shivered slightly, a sharp cold wind seeming to pierce through you.

He scoffed, and cocked an eyebrow as if to say ‘really?’ before shaking his head slightly, and amused smirk on his face.

“You should rest, too.” You told him, and you glanced at your watch, seeing that you had only been stuck in the cave for 15 minutes. “How much sleep did you get last night?” You asked pointedly, because given the fact that you had seen him up at around 4 in the morning was an indicator that he got about the same amount of sleep as you.

“About the same.” He answered gruffly, reaffirming your suspicions, before continuing to ask you another question, not liking when the focus was on him. “Why did you only get two hours of sleep?”

You shook your head in thought. “Um, I was up watching Jasper so that Clarke could get some sleep. I had to wake up Clarke and then she went to get water, so after a few minutes I went to find her.”

“When you were climbing down the ladder?” He interrupted, anger seeping into his tone, his jaw clenched, and you felt yourself get angry.

“Yes, and I don’t see what the big problem is.” You said arrogantly, enunciating every word. You scoffed slightly and rolled your eyes. You didn’t understand why he was making a big deal about it, after all you were the one with the bad leg.

He laughed bitterly, staring up at the ceiling of the cave, shaking his head slightly. “You are impossible.” He muttered out.

You stared at him in disgust, your mouth agape, as an appalled gasp left you. “Excuse me!?” You demanded, as if daring him to repeat what he said. Your anger usually had an impact on people.

He just rolled his eyes, and you felt more offended. “When did you actually sleep?” He asked, ignoring your outburst, and you were so shocked that you stared at him blankly for a few minutes, no witty retort popping into your brain.

He sighed deeply, his expression changing, his brown eyes melting. “You should rest.” He repeated, though this time his voice was soft, his eyes tender, and you felt your heart catch in your throat as realization hit you.

Bellamy Blake was gorgeous.

Sure, he might be a self-centered, power-hungry jackass, but damn if he wasn’t pretty. Did good genes just run in the Blake family?  

You blinked out of your momentary stupor, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away from your head, not going to let him catch you staring at him. You leaned your head back against the wall of the cave, looking up, a small sigh escaping your lips, before sitting up again. “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.” You admitted.

He looked at you oddly, a soft smirk on his face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate. “And why’s that?” He asked, when you didn’t, his voice rumbling deeply.

You scoffed slightly, shaking your head, because you weren’t sure if you were being ridiculous or not. “I can’t sleep when I’m cold.” You said to him, biting on your lip to keep from yourself from laughing at your ridiculousness.

A small smile appeared on his face, a small snort escaping him, and you felt his smile to be infectious, your face morphing into a small, genuine smile, giggling slightly.

“It was colder last night.” Bellamy pointed out, and you shrugged your shoulders, an exaggerated confused look on your face.

You motioned with your head over to Charlotte, who was sleeping rather peacefully. “She kind of used me as a human pillow.” You said.

Almost immediately, Bellamy wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel the body heat radiating off of him, your body feeling more relaxed despite the panic that you were having.

“What are you doing?” You hissed at him, your eyes frantic, the tips of your ears burning, and your cheeks began to warm up. Too much touch made you feel uncomfortable, and you felt your anxiety begin to bubble over, a lump forming in your throat, internally yelling at yourself that this was not something to freak out about, especially since you always craved touch. Overall, you felt as if you weren’t in control, which made you feel this overwhelming sense of anxiety.

“Relax.” He said gruffly, unaware of the momentary inner turmoil you were experiencing. “Body heat.” He said simply, gently bringing you closer to him, careful so as not to disrupt your leg, still on top of his. His hand gently moved up to the side of your head, gently nudging you, so that your head rested upon his right shoulder, your anxiety instantly melting away as you felt heat radiate off of him, embracing you softly.

You breathing evened, your eyelids growing heavier, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep even faster. His shoulder slouched slightly, and his head rested gently atop of yours, and you could feel his breath tickle your forehead, your eyesight growing misty as sleep came closer.

“Bellamy?” You asked, your eyes closed, on the brink of sleep, voice soft and hoarse, scared that if you spoke too loud you might disrupt the peace that was slowly accumulating.

“Hmm.” He hummed in response, his chest reverberating as he did so, causing you to smile subconsciously.

“Good night.” You muttered, nearly incohesively, before you drifted to sleep.

“Good night, Miss Proper.” He muttered out, a soft smile on his face, having said it too late for you to hear.

—

You awoke to a scream, jolting up, immediately noticing that your position had shifted. Somehow you and Bellamy had ended up lying down next to the boulder which Charlotte was sleeping on, one of his arms under your neck, your head resting in the crook of his neck, one of your arms slung over his chest, his other hand resting gently on your stomach. Your left leg was still precariously draped over his, though twisted at an angle which allowed you to cuddle into him.

You both immediately untangled your limbs from one another, shooting up into sitting positions, him shaking Charlotte awake as she still thrashed in her sleep, and you instinctively reached for her hand, squeezing lightly as she woke up, fear apparent on her face.

“I’m sorry.” She said almost instinctively, a look of guilt etched onto her face.

You and Bellamy shot each other momentary glances of concern, the same look of worry and sympathy on your faces.

“Does it happen often?” He asked gently, still kneeling in front of her, as you moved to sit next to her on the boulder, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and she melted into you.

She sighed deeply, and you breathed out shakily, trying to keep your emotions in check for her sake. Getting angry or emotional wouldn’t help in this situation.

“What are you scared of?” He asked, and she looked away from him, trying to keep from looking at him and you, and instantly you knew the shame she felt. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He said, and you felt angry.

You shot him a dirty look because why the hell would he try to invalidate her fear? He seemed to ignore you or not notice you, because he continued, “The only thing that matters is what you do about it.” He said, a small sympathetic smile on his face, and your angry look softened, a sad sympathetic look replacing it, feeling a bit ashamed at your lack of faith in him.

“But…I’m asleep?” Charlotte asked, despite it being a statement, confusion lacing her voice.

“Fears are fears.” Bellamy told her, his face soft and genuine, unlike the raging hothead with the clenched jaw and anger lines that you always saw. You much decided that you liked this Bellamy better.

“Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you when you sleep.” He said, gently tapping her leg. The amount of wisdom in his words scarily surprised you. You winced silently, the angle you were sitting on hurting your leg.

“Yeah, but how?” Charlotte asked, while you slowly moved off of the rock, sitting so that you were leaning against it, your leg screaming in momentary pain at the sudden shift, but it ultimately subsided, and you moved your hand up again to grip Charlotte’s and she sent you a soft grateful smile, squeezing your hand gently.

“You can’t afford to be weak.” Bellamy said, and although you hated the sentiment of telling her that she couldn’t be weak, you also knew that it was necessary, which is why you couldn’t afford to rest your leg. “Down here, weakness is death. Fear is death.” He said, and she stared at him blankly.

“Think about it like this, my leg is injured.” You began, trying to explain a bit to Charlotte, while also trying to get Bellamy to truly understand his own words. “There’s nothing I can do about it, but continue on. If I don’t do that, and try to rest, I’ll be dead, like that.” You said, snapping your fingers, and it seemed that you didn’t reach her, but your words reached Bellamy, his face hardened, and you could see an angry glare in his eyes. But somehow you understood that it wasn’t directed towards you.

“Let me see that knife I gave you.” He said, his eyes softening, and she carefully took it out, and handed it to him. “Now when you feel afraid,” He continued. “You hold tight to that knife and you say, ‘Screw you. I’m not afraid.’” He said, as she gingerly took the knife back from him.

You sighed to yourself, knowing that that wasn’t the wisdom that you wanted to impart on children, but what you wanted wasn’t an option anymore. You would need to shove away some of your opinions if you were going to be able to survive.

“Screw you, I’m not afraid.” Charlotte echoed with her eyes shut, her voice monotone. She opened her eyes to be met with an amused look on both Bellamy’s and your face, before she closed her eyes momentarily, beginning again.  

“Screw you, I’m not afraid.” She said again, with a little more conviction in her voice, staring at Bellamy, and you glanced over and saw a proud smirk on his face, and suddenly you felt a pit in your stomach; this poor child, none of you in fact, should have to have that mentality, or have to say that to themselves. You turned away, nausea consuming you as you laid back down where you were before, shivering from the lack of body heat.  

“Slay your demons, kid.” Bellamy told her. “Then you’ll be able to sleep.” He said, before lying down next to you, his body inches from yours.

You were able to sense his presence, and shook your head slightly, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you heard a sigh from next to you, as Bellamy slowly scooched closer to you, heat radiating off of his body.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your teeth chattering slightly, and you could practically hear him roll his eyes.

“God, you’re impossible, (y/l/n).” He muttered, and you just scoffed, turning around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face, unsure of how to answer that statement.

You paused as you searched his face, a look of amused frustration gracing his features. You propped your elbow in the dirt, using your hand to prop up your head, tilted slightly as you looked at him, an amused confusion spread across your face, your lips slightly parted, despite your small smirk.

He rolled his eyes, the amused smirk still present on his face, patting his right shoulder, and without thinking you rested your head there, subconsciously nuzzling into him, the warmth overtaking your body.  

You both lied there, relaxed for a few minutes, and you nearly felt all of your worries melt away. If you had thought about it a little bit more, you would’ve been a bit more concerned, because how could you have fallen into such an easy intimacy with someone you hate?

You were pulled from the moment as Charlotte shivered, seeming to jar you back into reality. You sat up, feeling your cheeks begin to warm, pressing your lips into a thin line, avoiding glancing at Bellamy.

“Charlotte.” You called out, and she glanced over at you. You threw her a small smile, before scooching slightly to your left, patting the now empty space between you and Bellamy, offering it to her.

She nodded enthusiastically and crawled over to the two of you, settling into the space, throwing you both a grateful smile. You returned it, slowly combing your fingers through her hair in a soothing motion, pressing a kiss to her hairline, while Bellamy hugged her gently.

She slowly dozed off in the center of you two, and you continued your small motions, smiling sadly at her, feeling tears prick at your eyes. You felt Bellamy’s gaze on you, before you looked over at him, worry apparent in his eyes.

“It’s my fault.” You explained hoarsely, your voice prickly with the anticipation of tears.

“Hey,” He said, moving his hand to rest on yours, squeezing gently. “It’s not your fault.”

You smiled sadly at him, shaking your head, because you knew that that wasn’t true. “It actually is my fault.” You said, shaking your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips, before you looked back at him, your voice more even, though still whispering. “Do you remember when there was like a five or six year old that was arrested?”

His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought, his lips parted slightly, before he remembered, his eyes widening momentarily. “Yeah, that was about, um, 12 years ago, right?” He asked, his face scrunching up as he tried to remember if he got the details correctly.

“Yeah.” You reassured breathily, exhaling before shaking your head, a sad smile on your face. “That was me.” You told him, and his eyes widened in shock as he stared at you, trying to possibly formulate what that meant.

“Shit.” Was all he could say, a sad look of sympathy on his face.

“Yeah.” You agreed, laughing slightly. “Um,” You started, unsure of whether he was the right person to share this story with, but it didn’t really matter; you had already started. “So, my parents were floated when I was either five or six.” You began.

“You don’t remember how old you were?” He asked, his question genuine, not laced with any hints of sarcasm or malice.

You just shook your head while shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t really know.” You admitted, though it was a bit hard for you. Who the hell doesn’t remember when there parents died? “I… I, was too young to understand death.” You stammered, talking about this still a bit difficult for you.

“So, I was about five or six, when they came for my parents. Um, the guards.” You clarified, and he nodded slightly in understanding. “I had no idea what the fuck was going on.” You admitted, laughing sadly. “So, I attacked a guard, and basically, they arrested me, but I was also somehow able to go see my parents get floated?” You said, a bit confused. You shrugged, and shook your head slightly. “I don’t know, I don’t really remember the details. It was a long time ago.” You said, hoping that your lack of an explanation made a little bit of sense.

“I still don’t get how Charlotte being down here is your fault.” Bellamy said, and a hollow laugh escaped your lips as you looked around hopelessly.

“Well, that was when Marcus was first appointed to the council.”

“Hold up, Marcus?” He asked while laughing, a look of bewilderment on his face, confused as to why you were referring to Kane by his first name.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your tone slightly condescending, though you wore an amused smirk. “Vice Chancellor Marcus Kane.” You said, speaking to him as if he were a child, and he just rolled his eyes the shadow of a smirk apparent on his face.

“Anyways, he thought the claim was ridiculous and fought for me not to be arrested.” You told him, going back to your story. “He ended up winning, and then they instated the ‘law,’” you said with finger quotes, “that children under the age of 10 cannot be arrested.”

When he said nothing, you just shrugged your shoulders, the feeling of hopelessness returning. “So, it really is my fault.” You explained, your voice softer than before, though your voice cracked with emotion, anger and shame seeping into your tone.

“It’s not.” Bellamy said, finally. He reached over and gently squeezed your hand to reassure you. “It’s the shitty government’s fault.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve pushed for it to be older.” You blubbered, trying to reason with him that it was truly your fault. Because nothing would ever change your mind that it wasn’t.

“You were six!” He exclaimed, flabbergasted. “And your parents had just died.” He said, shaking his head as he laughed hollowly, and you wondered why he would be so upset about this because it didn’t involve him. “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” He said, and instantly any warm or fuzzy feeling you had for him flew out the window.

“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you.” You commented, your voice stony, a look of pity morphing into disgust on your face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked, his face hardening, no longer the soft Bellamy from moments before.

You just scoffed at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “You tell me, Blake.” You rolled your eyes, anger and disappointment seeping into your tone. “You’re hiding something, and you’ve been hiding it the entire time.” You accused, and you saw his jaw clench, a clear indicator that you were correct.

“You’ve got no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” He hissed at you.

“I don’t?” You asked haughtily. “Because, you’re a twenty-three-year-old adult on the ground with a bunch of teenagers. You’re a jackass, and you want to stay in power, and for you, that means that all communication with the Ark is severed.” You said, laying out all the facts. “So yeah, you’re hiding something, and the rest of us are gonna die because of your selfishness, Blake.” You accused, rolling your eyes, feeling too disgusted to look at him.

He stayed quiet for a moment, and it confirmed your suspicions, feeling like a hollow victory. You heard him take a deep sigh, before speaking. “Octavia’s all I’ve got.” He whispered, his voice shaking, and you felt compelled to look back at him, seeing tears pricking at his eyes, his mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip quivering slightly.

He looked lost, a hopeless expression on his face, and he shrugged slightly, not looking you in the face. “My mom was floated last year. Never knew my dad.” He said briefly, though his comment seemed to reflect that he didn’t care much for his father, even if you assumed that he only knew very little.

“My entire life ended last year. My mom was floated and Octavia was arrested, and I was demoted to janitor. I can’t let my sister die.” He said, his voice trembling, and your reached for his hand, gently squeezing as he had done minutes before.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, and he just laughed bitterly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nobody really understands, because they don’t have siblings.” He said, and you realized that that was true. “I love her so much.”

“I get it.” You said, sympathizing with him. You smiled slightly at him, taking a moment to catch your breath, trying to push away the lump which had formed in your throat. “I don’t have an actual sibling, but I was raised to have one.” You said briefly.

He threw you a quizzical look, and you took a shallow breath, a small smile appearing on your face. “I always say that I’m lucky.” You began.

He looked at you oddly, as if all your statements confused him. He seemed as if he was trying to piece it together, though in the end he looked a bit more confused than he had before. “But you’ve been an orphan all your life.” He commented, and you just shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t actually really remember my parents. But, I always say that I’m luck because I was raised by three wonderful humans.” You said, your smile growing wider as you remembered them. “So, the parents of my best friend, and Marcus.” You elaborated.

He snorted, looking at you, his eyes widening with amusement. “Kane rose you?” He asked, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “He’s a dick, though.” He said, and you laughed brightly, shaking your head slightly.

“He is now. But, he wasn’t a while ago.” You agreed, the smile from your face fading slightly as you remembered the man he was now. You sighed slightly, and shrugged your shoulders, “He’s a different person now. He was really kind, but I guess working so long for the government changed him.” You said sadly, feeling a bit hollow as you remembered the change in him.

“But anyway, my best friend’s parents raised me, and I think of him as a brother. I mean we did everything together, and we got into stupid fights about stupid things and he would push my buttons and there were days where I yelled and scolded him. I would either pretend not to know him or he would be my best friend, often my best friend.” You paused, looking over at Bellamy. “I don’t know if that’s what it’s like to have a sibling, but I always thought that he was the closest I would have to one.”

A half smile lit up Bellamy’s face as he laughed a little, a look of confusion and amusement in his face as he looked at you while you were talking. “That’s pretty close actually.” He admitted, and you smiled back at him.

“Hey, um, how long we’ve been in here?” He asked, feeling his cheeks become warm at seeing you so peaceful, an awkward pit forming in his stomach, as he avoided looking at you, trying to stomp out those sensations, his tone not reflecting any of the inner turmoil he was going through.

“Um, it has been,” You paused momentarily, squinting at your watch in the dim light, “about two hours.” You told him.

He nodded slightly. “I think I’m gonna sleep.” He said to you, momentarily adjusting himself slightly, careful not to disturb Charlotte. “You should too.” He said.

You nodded slightly in response, slowly lowering your head down, resting just below his forearm. You loosely wrapped an arm around Charlotte, smiling slightly from the warmth that she radiated, feeling your exhaustion hit you like a truck. You yawned tiredly, your body curling up slightly as you subconsciously inched closer to them, feeling a hand move to rest on your waist, a bit too tired to say anything about it.

“G’night (y/n).” Bellamy mumbled sleepily, his breath fanning across your face, and you smiled softly, feeling a bit comforted by it.

“G, night.” You mumbled back as he fell asleep, almost instantaneously, soft snores emitting from him.

Despite your exhaustion, you didn’t feel particularly sleepy. You laid there, conscious enough for your eyes to keep open, though drowsy enough for you to not be able to control your thoughts; you were admiring Bellamy’s sleeping features. The hard lines and clenched jaw which were often present, seemed to have vanished, his face softening. You were close enough that you were able to count all the freckles on his face, and you found yourself smiling a bit, because he really was gorgeous. It truly wasn’t fair.

Some distant part of your brain was yelling at you to stop doing this, because first of all it was a bit creepy, and second of all you didn’t even like him. He was rude and arrogant, although he was still somehow soft and vulnerable. You shook your head slightly, shaking the thoughts of admiration from your head, knowing that at some point soon you would clash heads once more.

You sighed, exasperated that sleep would not come to you, and you glanced at your watch once more, seeing that an hour had passed, and you groaned softly in frustration. You shivered slightly as a cold breeze entered the cave, and you scooched closer to them, before your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

If a cold breeze had entered and none of the thick porous fog had, did that mean it was gone?

You listened silently for a few moments, no longer hearing the steady whoosh of the fog, and you softly moved away from them, before attempting to stand up, gripping onto the rock on the side of the cave for support, standing fully. You limped towards the mouth of the cave, wincing as you stepped a bit too roughly, a burning pain shooting through your calf. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to will the pain away, before walking forward with gritted teeth.

You saw that there was no fog, and you felt a small smile form on your face, as you walked back into the cave, trying to keep yourself from jogging back, knowing that it would hurt.

“Bellamy!” You whispered to him, shaking him slightly, and he woke up, looking alarmed, his face immediately relaxing at seeing you. “The fog’s gone.” You told him, and you thought he would have been happy.

Instead there was a scowl on his face. He opened his mouth, about to chastise you for walking on your leg, though stopped himself, before scoffing and shaking his head, moving to wake Charlotte up.

You huffed as he ignored you, and you rolled your eyes at him because he was being a child. You walked to the mouth of the cave waiting for him and Charlotte to catch up, both rubbing the sleep from their eyes, all of you squinting at the harsh morning light that came from the outside of the cave.

“It’s all clear.” Bellamy said, and you turned to him with a ‘what the fuck’ look.

“Yeah. I just said that.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief at him.

“Anybody out here!?” He yelled out, ignoring you, and suddenly you remembered the voice that had screamed for him, bile forming in your mouth.

“Jones!” He yelled out, and you felt a paralyzing fear that you had lost someone, feeling your stomach contort.

“We’re here!” Jones yelled out, and you and Bellamy shared a momentary glance before you headed in the direction in which he had yelled from, Charlotte following the both of you.

You felt a shaky sigh of relief escape you as you saw three other making their way towards you.

“Lost you in the stew. Where’d you go?” Bellamy asked, and your face scrunched up in confusion, because it was a bit of an odd phrase.

“Made it to a cave down there.” Jones said, motioning behind them with a makeshift spear. “The hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy answered, and you mentally did a head count, before your mental alarm went off that someone was missing.

“Where’s Atom?” You asked shakily, though in your gut you already knew the answer. The silence from them was enough to confirm your suspicions, and you let out a choked sob, your hands moving to cover your mouth, in an attempt to keep you from screaming out.

Your bottom lip trembled, a look of panic on your face as you looked between them momentarily. “What are you waiting for? We have to find him!” You yelled, blood pounding in your ears as you took a few shaky breaths, feeling as if you were drowning, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Ignoring your emotions, you turned on your heel and began to run though the forest.  

“Fuck.” Bellamy muttered, immediately chasing after you, calling out for you, though you continued to run, despite the throbbing in your leg, only stopping once he caught up to you, your leg screaming with exhaustion.

“Bellamy, we have to find him.” You said to him, biting your trembling lip to keep from whimpering out, a few tears beginning to fall as you stubbornly wiped them away, knowing that they wouldn’t help.

He sighed, looking away from you, feeling his heart catch in his throat at seeing you so distressed, and he nodded slightly. “We will. I promise.” He said to you.

You heard Charlotte scream from behind you, and you and Bellamy ran towards her as she screamed again, your heart catching in your throat as you saw Atom at the bottom of the slight hill, his skin chapped and bloody, as if the fog had been eating through his flesh.

You breathed shakily, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, your feet rooted in position till you saw his chest rise shakily, and instantly you moved forward, tumbling slightly over a few roots. Bellamy followed you as you crouched beside Atom, gently grabbing his hand.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay.” You said, your voice quivering with the lie.

His face contorted in pain, and you shifted slightly so that you gently rested your hand on his forehead, remembering that that often comforted people.

Bellamy looked concerned and unsure of what to do, and you thought that you saw a bit of shame flit through his eyes, and your other hand moved to grab Bellamy’s wrist, trying to reassure him that this wasn’t his fault.

Atom began muttering, his words slowly becoming comprehensible. “Kill me.” He begged raspily, and you shut your eyes, letting a few tears silently fall, before looking over at Bellamy who had the same unsure and scared look on his face.

You continued to gently whisper to him, gently carding your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna be okay.” You lied tearfully, trying to believe it, as you repeated it like a mantra, as if the more you said it the more it would make it true.

You looked up and saw that the rest of the group had gotten there, and Atom continued to write in pain.

“Can’t. Breathe.” He choked out, and you shut your eyes tightly, continuing to gently card your fingers through his hair, before opening your eyes to see Charlotte hand her knife to Bellamy.

“Don’t be afraid.” She said simply, and you shook your head slightly.

“Bellamy, no.” You choked out, seeing the determination in his eyes, and you shook your head, hoping that he wouldn’t.

“Go back to camp.” He told the others, looking away from you, and you closed your eyes, trying to reason with yourself that this was something that had to be done, despite the fact that you were in pain that this was the only option.

“Charlotte, you too.” He said, his voice heavy and pleading, trying to get her to leave.

“Charlotte, please.” You elaborated, begging her to go back. You couldn’t let her stay for this.

She reluctantly walked away, and you slightly adjusted Atom’s head so that it was propped up slightly, resting on your thigh, as you began to sing gently to him, nodding slightly at Bellamy who had kneeled down next to him, placing the knife against his throat, letting him know that this had to be done.

He hesitated with the knife, and you saw the fear and anguish in his face, your other hand grabbing his free hand squeezing slightly to let him know that you were there. That he wasn’t alone in this.

“Bellamy.” You said softly, his eyes meeting yours, a look of pure anguish on his face. He gripped your hand tightly, closing his eyes tightly in pain, before his grip on your hand gentled and he looked over his shoulder, Clarke standing there.

You returned to singing to Atom, trying to ease his mind, as she immediately walked over and kneeled down on the other side of him, before looking between the both of you.

“I heard screams.” She said.

“Charlotte found him.” Bellamy told her, and your voice quivered as a slight sob escaped you, though you continued to sing softly. “I sent her back to camp.” He said, his voice breaking slightly, and you squeezed his hand again.

You saw her look between the both of you, and she smiled sadly, and your eyes widened in realization of what she was gonna do, and you shook your head softly at her, and you stopped singing briefly.

She gave you a sad smile, and a small questioning look, and you nodded in understanding, before singing to him again, carding your fingers through his hair, as he stilled a little bit, though his body still wracked with pain.

“Ok.” Clarke whispered to him, a sad small smile on her face, her voice cracking. “I’m gonna help you, all right?” She said, taking the knife from Bellamy, and you both looked at her in painful awe as she stuck the knife into the side of his throat, the blood slowly seeping out of his neck and onto your pants, as she hummed with you, gently stroking his face as the light slowly vanished from his eyes.

You lip quivered, as you whimpered slightly, and you felt Bellamy wrap his arms around you, resting your head on his chest as you quietly cried into his shirt, your hand gripping Clarke’s fiercely as the three of you sat in quiet for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened. What the three of you had just done.

You found the peace a bit unsettling, tasting bile in your mouth, your stomach churning as you tried to scream -you wanted to scream- though you found no voice in your throat.

“How’re we gonna take him back?” You finally asked, your voice sounding chalky and broken, scared that if you spoke too loud it might make things worse.

“I’ve got some tarp in my pack.” Bellamy answered, his voice shaky as he took it out, and you and Clarke gently rolled his body onto the tarp, as she shakily stood up.

“I’ll go get Finn and Wells.” She said softly, before running away from the blood stained dirt, leaving her backpack abandoned.

“Bellamy?” You whispered out, your voice shaking as more tears threatened to spill from your eyes.  

“Yeah?” He asked gently, staring down at you, your body not having moved from when Atom’s head rested on your lap.

“I can’t stand up.” You said softly, your voice quivering.

He looked at you briefly, his eyes shutting momentarily as he bit down at his bottom lip, before looking down at you, reaching down to grab your arms and pull you up.

“Thank you.” You whispered to him, as you stood up, your legs trembling with pain.

Clarke, Wells and Finn appeared in the clearing momentarily, Clarke grabbing her backpack as Wells grabbed the other side of the tarp that Bellamy was holding, and the five of you began the trek back to camp in silence.

You whimpered slightly as you stepped wrong, immediately feeling a reassuring hand on your shoulder and looked back to see Bellamy with a look of worry on his face.

You laugh hollowly, shaking your head as you continued to walk again. “We never got food.” You commented to yourself.

You realized that you had slowed the group down considerably, despite the fact that you were walking as fast as you could, as it was nearly pitch black once you got back to camp.

Bellamy and Wells slowly placed Atom’s tarp covered body down, and Bellamy instantly walked up to you, placing your arm around his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

“Get Clarke whatever she needs.” He ordered to some kid, and he nodded, immediately turning to follow Clarke.

“I better go get this grave dug.” Wells said to you both.

“I’ll help.” You offered.

“No. You’re not.” Bellamy said to you, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m fine, Bellamy.” You argued.

“I have to agree with Bellamy on this, sorry (y/n).” Wells said, offering you a sympathetic smile. “Try to stay off your leg and let it heal.” He said kindly, moving away to begin digging the grave.

Bellamy glanced at you, and you rolled your eyes. “What?” You asked, annoyance in your tone.

“I’m not the only one who thinks you should stay off your leg.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Blake.”

You saw Octavia run to Clarke, and your eyes widened, remembering that she didn’t know. “Bellamy.” You whispered to him, and he looked at your briefly, your eyes flickering over to see Clarke trying to keep Octavia from heading towards you guys. “It’s not your fault.” You reassure quickly, before Octavia reaches you guys.

“Octavia, just stay there.” You told her, your voice a little shaky, as she tried to move past you and Bellamy.

“O, please, just stay back.” He pleaded, his voice heavy, his free arm trying to keep her from seeing him, though she pushed through.

“Stop.” She whined, gently pushing on his shoulder, and he let her pass, a look of despair on his face. You gently squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him that it would be okay, as the both of you waited for her response.

She knelt down and gently pulled the tarp back, revealing Atom’s mauled body, and you closed your eyes, instinctively hiding your face in Bellamy’s chest, his arms gently yet protectively wrapped around you, your stomach in knots at seeing his body again. You suddenly became hyper aware of the dried blood on your body, and felt a wave of queasiness wash over you, as you gulped, trying to keep your stomach from lurching, before looking back, trying to be there for Octavia.

“There’s nothing I could do.” Bellamy said, shame and guilt filling his voice.

“Don’t.” Octavia said shakily, and you shook your head at her, knowing that your response would’ve been similar, but still didn’t like the edge of accusation in her voice.

“We did all we could.” You told her, and suddenly her hardened expression reserved for her brother broke, and you saw the resemblance between them again; they had the same look of vulnerability: eyes quivering, lip trembling and shaky breathing.

She placed the tarp back onto him, her expression becoming angry as she walked past you both.

“O. O, please.” Bellamy begged, briefly leaving your side to follow her, leaving you a bit shaky.

“Don’t.” She repeated, this time extending her hand to keep Bellamy from her.

“It wasn’t his fault, Octavia.” You tried to reason with her, and she just scoffed, shaking her head.

“Whatever.” She said simply, before stalking off and you were sure that you could see tears in her eyes, though you decided not to press.

“It’s not your fault.” You repeated to Bellamy, though he avoided your gaze, and you saw the guilt on his face. “Bellamy.” You said trying to grab his attention, though he just continued ignoring you. “Bellamy, look at me.” You said gently, your hands moving to gently cup his face so that he would look at you, a hollow expression on his face.

“It’s not your fault.” You said softly, your voice quivering slightly as tears burned your eyes, threatening to fall.

You saw his broken expression change slightly, a fraction of the guilt leaving his eyes, and he seemed to nod, not quite in agreement with your words. He sniffed slightly, his expression becoming stoic as Murphy strolled up to the two of you. Your gaze hardened as he approached, still very wary of him.

“Lose anyone here?” Bellamy asked, his voice hard, and you were unsure if Murphy heard the slight tremble in his voice.

“No.” He replied curtly.

“Jasper?” Bellamy asked, and you were grateful that he did, not trusting your voice to come out in trembles if you asked about your friend, and you were not going to show vulnerability to John Murphy. Your feelings about being vulnerable in front of Bellamy Blake had changed, though.

“Still breathing. Barely.” He said, and you felt a little bit of relief set in. “I tried to take him out -”

Your eyes widened and your nostrils flared, anger seething in your bones and you would’ve lurched forward and strangled him if Bellamy hadn’t had a firm grip on your shoulder preventing you from doing so, so instead you stood still, visibly shaking with anger.

“But your psycho little sister-”

And that’s when Bellamy seemed to have lost it, his grip on you disappearing. No longer anchored, you punched Murphy in the stomach, your hand colliding slightly with Bellamy who gripped him by the collar.

“My what?” He screamed at him, and suddenly you became afraid, because even if your temper was always as bad as this outburst, Murphy wasn’t worth the amount of anger that Bellamy was exuding.

“Bellamy!” You exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him off of Murphy, and he instinctively shoved your hand off with his shoulder. “He’s not worth it.” You told him, trying to calm him down.

“Your little sister.” Murphy said, rather calmly though you heard the slight hint of fear in his tone, and he pushed Bellamy off of him.

“Bellamy.” You cried out, trying to pull him away from Murphy, though he remained rooted in place, your hand still resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah that’s right. My little sister.” He spat out. “Got anything else you wanna say about her?” He challenged.

“Bellamy.” You begged softly, breathing shakily as you tried to pull him away from Murphy.

“Nothing.” Murphy drawled, rolling his eyes slightly. “Sorry.”

Bellamy turned away from him, gently grabbing your hand from his shoulder with a gentle squeeze as if to thank you for not letting him escalate the situation more. He looked at you briefly, guilt flashing over his face as he saw the fear and exasperation written across your features. He took a shaky breath, his anger leaving him, before glancing back at Murphy. “Get him out of here.” He said, motioning towards Atom’s body, and you could hear the exhaustion and exasperation in his tone. He walked off, a group of people moving to bring Atom’s body over to the small graveyard that had already begun.  

You followed, hobbling after him, and you saw him come up to a relatively empty section of camp, sitting on a log with his head in his hands, a look mixed between guilt and shame on his face.

“What do you want, (l/n)?” He asked, not looking up, and you ignored his question, sitting down next to him.

“You look like you could use a friend.” You said simply, and he looked up from his hands, a slight look of confusion on his face.

“We friends now?” He asked, and you laughed slightly shrugging your shoulders. Your laugh seemed to be infectious, because his lips gently curled up into a smile, though the sadness was still apparent in his eyes.

“How about on a trial basis?” You joked, and he rolled his eyes, snorting slightly, shaking his head.

“That’s awful.” He said about your joke, his warm soft melancholy smile on his face.

You shrugged your shoulders in slight defense. “I never said I was funny.” You defended. “Although it’s sort of true.” You were sort of friends.

He laughed silently, though the heaviness returned, and he sat up a little, though avoided looking at you, and you saw the vulnerable Bellamy Blake. The real Bellamy Blake, the one you were fond of.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk.” You gently reassured him, placing your hand on top of his, offering him a sad half-smile, understanding the inner turmoil he was feeling. He offered you a grateful smile, readjusting his hand so that he was loosely holding onto yours, looking away from you, letting his face darken, his eyes quivering, his bottom lip trembling and breathing in shaky shallow breaths.

You both remained like that for about ten minutes, before he spoke, breaking the thick, though comfortable silence.

“Do you wanna check on Jasper?” He asked, and you looked at him with surprise, because every time you went to check on Jasper he chastised you.

“Are you gonna let me, Blake?” You asked, laughing in confusion.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Even if I said no, you would do it anyway.” He pointed out, and you felt slightly embarrassed as he pointed that out, though mostly proud.

“Yeah.” You agreed, laughing with him. “But why are you asking then?” You asked him, still confused.

“It hurts to climb up the ladder, right?” He asked, and you nodded reluctantly, trying to push the memory of the pain out of your mind. “I’ll help you up then.” He said, and you looked at him with your mouth slightly agape, a doubtful look on your face.

Before you could say anything he stood up, helping you to stand on the log, before he wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hands hooking under your legs, and you were unsure of how he had managed to get you onto his back in a matter of seconds, any witty remark leaving you.

“I still don’t see how you can get me up.” You said as he entered the dropship, still giving you a piggy-back-ride.

“Can you hold on with your legs and arms if I let go?” He asked.

“I… I think so.” You said slightly nervously, and felt the support from his hands leave your thighs, and you felt yourself slip slightly, tightening your hold, but not to the point of suffocation.

He started up the ladder, and once he reached the second to last rung, you reached behind you and pulled yourself onto the floor, offering him a small nod.

“I’m impressed, Blake.” You admitted, and he smirked at you.

“G’night (y/n).” He said, his smirk melting into his genuine smile, and you felt a smile grow on your face.

“Good night, Bellamy.” You said softly, and he offered a slight wave as he climbed back down the ladder.

“How is he?” You asked gently, crawling over to Jasper, who was surrounded by Clarke, Octavia and Finn.

Octavia just sort of turned away from you, though Clarke gave you a small nod reassuring you that he was gonna be okay.

“I’m really sorry about Atom.” Clarke said to her gently.

Instinctively your hand moved to rest on Octavia’s, gently brushing your thumb over her knuckles to silently reassure her that she wasn’t alone. She looked at you briefly, and you offered her a small smile, your lips quivering and eyes trembling with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.” You reiterated, your voice warbling slightly.

She gently squeezed your hand, to reassure her that she wasn’t alone, sighing and looking down at Jasper before looking between you and Clarke. “Guess we’re gonna have to get used to people dying down here, aren’t we?” She stated, her voice trembling in an attempt to sound strong.

“But not you.” She whispered to Jasper, on the verge of tears. “You’re not allowed to die.” She said to him, and you closed your eyes momentarily to keep from crying.

“He’s not gonna die.” You said as softly as her, your voice trembling. “He knows that I’d kill him if he died.” You said jokingly, earning a teary laugh from Octavia and Monty, who was still sitting far-ish away from Jasper.

“Yeah, that’s why Jasper and I won’t die. (y/n) won’t let us.” Monty joked, his voice warbled from emotion, and you offered him a small smile, moving away from Jasper to sit with Monty, resting your head on his shoulder, grabbing hold of his hand.

He smiled sadly at you, and you returned his sad smile, gently kissing him on the cheek, before shifting, so that he rested his head on your shoulder, your fingers peacefully playing with the ends of his hair.

“When’s the last time you slept?” You quietly asked him, and he stayed silent, and you felt your heart lurch. “Go to sleep, okay?” You told him, and he nodded in acknowledgment, quickly dozing off.

You smiled softly at your sleeping friend, gently shifting his body so that he was now resting on his pillow, still on the cold metal floor of the dropship. You quickly grabbed the blanket that he had been using and gently placed it on top of him, pressing a small kiss to the top of his forehead, before standing up.

“I’m gonna go see how things are running in camp.” You informed them. “If anything changes, please get me.”

“I promise.” Clarke told you, and you nodded in response before you hopped down the rungs, noticing the pain though pushing it from your mind.

You exited the dropship and saw that everything was in relative peace, and it was quiet. It seemed as if most people were in their tents, and you checked your watch, before deciding that you would go see if Wells needed any help with Atom’s grave.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

Your breathing increased, blood pounding to your ears as you saw Wells on the ground, bleeding out from his neck, choking slightly. Instantly you fell next to him, placing pressure on the wound, a choked sob escaping you, your hands becoming warm and bloody.

“Bellamy!” You screeched, hyperventilating, unsure of what to do. “Bellamy!” You yelled again, and in less than a second he was there, his eyes widening as he saw you cradling Wells’ head, who was still choking out. “Get Clarke!” You screamed at him frantically, and he was gone.

“Hey, hey, hey.” You whispered frantically to Wells. “You’re gonna be alright.” You said, nodding your head frantically. “You’re gonna be okay.” You whispered, tears falling from your eyes, as you continued to press on the wound, your fingers slippery, feeling his pulse become weaker and weaker.

Within less than thirty seconds Bellamy and Clarke had returned, a shuddering cry escaping Clarke as she immediately sat next to you, grabbing Wells’ hand, pressing a kiss to it, sobbing.

“I’m so sorry.” She said to him. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve trusted you.”

“Wells, no.” You cried out, bunching the sleeve of your shirt over your hand, trying to absorb the blood, before pressing your hand on the wound again, barely feeling his pulse.

“Hey, you’re not gonna die.” Clarke whispered, shaking her head. “You’re gonna be fine.” She sobbed.

He gently squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him with her tear stained face, and he just smiled softly, before the light left his eyes, his head going limp in your hands.

“No. No. No!” Clarke screamed, sobbing violently, and you just sat there, your mouth agape in horror, waiting for a scream to escape you as tears pooled in your eyes.

You began hyperventilating, not being able to scream out, not accepting it. “No, no.” You rasped out, shaking your head. “Wells!” You yell at him, waiting for him to move or speak but he doesn’t. “Wells.” You whimpered out, gently shaking his shoulders, waiting for a response you knew wouldn’t come.

“No.” You whisper softly, your mouth agape as you sit there, not processing anything. You could hear Clarke crying and sobbing next to you, though it all sounded fuzzy, your vision focusing on the space in front of you, your mind blank, not being able to process what had just happened.

Bellamy had come back with a few others, who had started to begin to dig a grave for Wells, dragging Clarke back up to the dropship, and you had just sat there with Wells’ head still resting in your lap.

You didn’t remember when or how you had moved, though you knew that someone had spoken to you, and grabbed your hand, pulling your body away from Wells and you had ended up in front of the dropship, staring out into the empty night.

You didn’t sleep. You were in too much shock to even move, much less sleep. Everything felt foreign, as if you were in your body but watching from above with no control as to what was happening.

Instead, you just stared off into space, your mind trying to process the deaths of two of your friends in the span of five hours. And they’d both died with their heads in your lap. It seemed that you weren’t properly equipped to deal with that information, remaining mentally blank for hours.

At some point the feeling changed, and you slowly became more aware of your body, feeling less numb that you had before, though still too numb to properly process what had happened.

It wasn’t until the sun came out that sitting there was causing you anxiety; you reeked of blood and felt awful, before you immediately stood up, and walked to your tent grabbing your towel, soup, and spare set of clothes, mechanically walking to the stream nearby.

You didn’t necessarily know what you were doing, still a bit numb to process anything, before you came upon the stream, and your nerves seemed to calm and heighten at the same time.

You placed your towel, with your soap resting on top of it, on the edge of the river, your clean set of clothes resting next to your towel, though a little further from the shore, your boots next to your towel. You haphazardly threw off your clothes, and waddled into the river, the cold running water jolting you awake, your emotions beginning to slowly turn on, slowly beginning to pour out of you.

You slowly waddled back to shore, grabbing your bar of soap, rubbing it furiously between your hands to create suds, no longer able to see your hands. Placing the bar of soap back down you began to scrub your body furiously, before a wave of sensation hit you, silent tears beginning to wrack your body as you scrubbed harder, your skin progressively feeling more raw.

You scrubbed until you ran out of tears, before wading back into the water, the suds coming off of your body, and you looked on as it began to foam in the water, and you couldn’t help but think if this was wheat sea foam looked like, no wonder Aphrodite was born from it.

The water began to tint red as the blood came off your body, your eyes widening and you felt your throat seem to choke up, your heart beating rapidly as you stared forward, the unbearable static silence seeming to grow louder and louder, making it harder to think.

You ran to the shore of the river, wrapping your towel around you as you shivered slightly, having felt your anxiety become too much, scared that you might drown in the water, the same way you felt as if you were drowning in your mess of thoughts and emotions.

You quickly dried off, and put on your clean clothes, warmed from the sun. You involuntarily smiled, the feeling of clean clothes alone making you feel at momentary peace. You sighed, looking at your bloody and torn clothes, and with a sudden burst of energy you placed them in the water, some blood immediately washing out.

You grabbed the bar of soap once more, rubbing it on the bloody stains across your clothes, before they mixed out of the fabric, and you pulled your clothes out of the river, clean but now soaking wet.

You quickly gathered your things, a piece of your mind conscious enough to tell you that you should return back to camp, before turned away from the camp to see an angry Bellamy Blake emerge from the trees.

---

tags: (still open!) @vxidnik @multifandom-states @thearachna-kid @colie87@jodiereedus22 @greygarbage @lovingcupcake51002

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy imagine #bellamy blake #the 100 #not mcu #oh wow i really hope it fucking works and shows up in the tag this time pls lord #i just want this monster out of my drafts because it makes scrolling through them impossible #i really want it to go well but it's gonna fucking flop #anyway idk if i'm gonna work on the next part rn (which i've started) or the icons i've gotta do #pls let this work #mira writes

[thedarkrose17]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia Characters: Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Eventual Relationships, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bisexual Prompto Argentum, Gay Noctis Lucis Caelum, Asexual Noctis Lucis Caelum Summary:

The first thing Prompto wakes up to is concerned voices and someone fussing or whining.

It takes a few moments to sit up, adjust in the tent and glance around. It’s just Ignis, Gladio and a fussing baby. He blinks and looks again. The baby wasn’t here last night. ☆ ☆ ☆ A.k.a The astrals get tired of Prompto and Noctis' pining and decide to try and get them together

Read on the link or under the cut: 

Dinner is difficult to say the least. Prompto struggles to eat but after taking way longer than everyone else and feeling insecure about it, he manages to clear his plate.

He's quiet which worries Noctis but the royal doesn't get a chance to ask as Prompto is already on his feet, plate in hand. His arms are trembling pretty badly which honestly is a little concerning but Noctis chalks it up to Prompto's anxiety. He doesn't know why he's anxious though.

The question of "Are you ok?" is on the tip of Noctis' tongue until he hears a smash and quickly looks over to the source. Prompto dropped his plate.

The blonde curses under his breath and apologises, quickly trying to pick up the plate shards. He's only wearing one glove, the other hand bare minus the black fabric around his finger.

"Prompto." Ignis speaks up, concern on his face.

Prompto continues trying to pick the mess up. He's cut up his exposed fingers a little on his gloved hand. It's nothing too bad but they're bleeding a little. His other hand it's hard to tell how bad it is but his palm is all bloody and that's a bit worrying to Ignis.

Gladio glances over and heads over just as plate shards coated in blood drop from Prompto's hands. The shield carefully grabs him and hoists him off the ground and away from the scene.

"You're hurting yourself kid. Stop." Gladio says. He knows the gunner is in shock, he doesn't seem to even feel the pain due to adrenaline. Prompto shoots him a confused look before Ignis takes over and quickly ushers him into the caravan.

That's when Noctis gets to see the accident. He stares and shields Solis from it. It's a little bloody which honestly doesn't look great. Bonus they've run out of potions so all they have is good old first aid kits.

"What happened?" Noctis asks, a little paler than usual. He's seen worse and yet the thought of Prompto getting hurt sickens him. Granted the thought of any of them getting hurt sickens him.  "It wasn't his wr-" he can't bring himself to ask that.

"He cut up his fingers and hand." Gladio replies. I think the hand was worse. Hard to tell. He looked like Anak in the headlights."

Noctis sighs and stares at the shards.

"It looks worse than it is." Gladio sighs causing Noctis to glare at him.

"How do you know." he hisses at the shield.

"Just have a feeling."

"A feeling won't prove shit and you know it. It looks like a fucking crime scene Gladio." Noctis continues to glare, trying not to raise his voice.

"Getting pissy at me won't solve shit and you know it. Just look after Sol."

Noctis looks down at the baby and sighs. Gladio's right.  

The Prince gently strokes Solis' cheek with a shaky hand. When did his hands start shaking? His baby son clings to him, Noctis knows if his finger gets too close to the baby's mouth his son can and will drool all over it.

"It's gonna be ok." he mutter over and over as Gladio sweeps up the mess. But Noctis knows he's just telling himself that because honestly Solis has no idea what's happened.

* * *

Ignis comes out of the caravan maybe five or ten minutes later. It feels like it's been an eternity due to the high levels of stress. Noctis and Gladio had snapped again at each other at one point as Gladio cleaned up.

But after a few moments of silence that felt like hours, they both apologised to each other thankfully before Ignis had appeared.

"How was it? Is it bad?" Noctis asks, sitting up a little being careful not to jostle Solis in his arms.

"The fingers was fairly tame. Only required some plasters around the cuts. His hand was rather messy and a little deeper but I was able to stem the bleeding, clean it up and bandage it up nicely."

Noctis still looks concerned, Ignis exhales, rubbing one of his temples. He looked tired honestly probably due to the situation previously.

"I can assure you he's fine, your highness. He's just lying down, trying to relax."

Noctis gets up carefully with Solis in his arms, heading into the caravan causing Ignis to sigh.

"He didn't handle this well. Did he?" Ignis asks to which Gladio shakes his head.

"Jumped to conclusions and figured the worst, got pissed off. When I told him what happened he looked like I'd told him something seriously horrific." Gladio looks up at Ignis. "Why was blondie shaking like a leaf back before he dropped it?"

"You mustn't share this but he was planning on confessing to Noct at some point but it seems anxiety took over regarding that trail of thought and lead to panic." Ignis replies.

"...You think he'll go through with it?"

"I'm unsure but honestly I don't want a repeat of this. Last thing I want is him working himself up to the point where he's hurting himself without realising or making himself unwell." Ignis sighs and carefully takes off his glasses, cleaning them with a cloth from his pocket.

"Same here. Kid looked pale enough when you whisked him off."

* * *

Prompto was on the phone when Noctis entered. He could see the hand bandaged up and winced. The other had his fingers covered in cartoony moogles. It seemed that's all that were available

"...Just y'know panic attack." he said, not noticing Noctis immediately.

Noctis figures he's talking to Cor. He can probably figure out what Cor's saying:

"Are you ok?"

"Are you sure?"

Stuff like that, he's known Cor for longer than he's known Prompto, mostly due to the fact that the Marshal is basically a ninja when it comes to hiding the fact he's got a ray of sunshine for a son.

"Yeah I'm fine I promise." Prompto says,adjusting the phone a little. The bandaged hand is hurting, Noctis can tell from the quick flashes of pain on Prompto's face but Prompto won't admit it. Instead he masks it.

"Iggy patched me up...N-No you don't need to come." Prompto gasps and looks guilty moments later. "Wiz's Chocobo Ranch but- Dad it's hours away for you." he swallows and catches a glimpse of Noctis, he mimes help and Noctis snorts.

'Can't stop Cor.' Noctis mimes back and Prompto sighs.

"You'll be driving for hours." Prompto pauses to listen and swallows. "You're already packing up huh?"

Prompto sighs moments later and accepts defeat. He feels guilty for his dad coming hours out of his way but Cor seems to have made up his mind. Noctis heads over, sitting next to the blonde, he's able to hear Cor at this distance.

"Just be careful ok? You've got someone super special who wants to meet you." Prompto says, ruffling Solis' baby hair with his free hand.

There's a hum of agreement from Cor before he speaks up. "All I've seen so far is pictures. I look forward to seeing him."

Solis squeals and smiles at Prompto, more so when said blonde baby talks him.

"Yeah~ Grandpa's coming! You like that Sunbeam?" he coos. "Did you hear him?" he asks the phone.

Noctis hears a fond sound from Cor on the phone and finds himself smiling. Solis was already working his magic.

"I've missed you pops." Prompto says, biting his lip.Tears form in his eyes. "Love you."

"Missed you too Chocobo. Love you too."

Hearing that seems to open up the floodgates. Tears trickle down his cheeks. He's honestly missed hearing his dad call him Chocobo. It's something he's been affectionately called since he was a baby.

He feels embarrassed knowing full well he tends to keep in touch with Cor a lot. It's only been a week since they last spoke. He'd gushed about Solis and how he wondered when more of his little personality will show.

Noctis supports Solis with one arm and pull Prompto into a hug. Prompto isn't usually like this so Noctis chalks it up to the stress of the recent accident with the added fact he simply missed his dad.

"Are you that sad that I'm coming to you?" Cor says and Prompto snorts wetly, swiping at his eyed with two fingers with plasters on them.

"Nah. Just don't leave a path of destruction in your wake." Prompto sniffled.

"No promises. Try to rest before I get there."

That manages to draw a laugh from Prompto, who then smiles softly before wishing his dad goodbye and lying down on the bed.

"M'tired." he mutters as Solis stares at his hands curiously. "Papa hurt himself. But it's ok." he explains to the infant who coos and gently grabs a finger.

Noctis carefully unlatches Solis, who whines but quickly settles when Noctis lies next to Prompto with him and he's free to grab his papa's finger again.

"Sleep it off then. You look exhausted."

Solis shrieks randomly startling the pair. They both stare at him in complete shock.

"Astrals…" Prompto mutters.

"You ok?" Noctis asks the baby who drools and squeals. "...Happy shriek then."

Prompto nods and laughs tiredly.

"You happy I'm tired or just happy in general or happy to see me?"

Solis coos and attempts to escape Noctis' arms. He doesn't get anywhere so Prompto moves closer to which he's rewarded with a happy shriek.

"Happy to see you." Noctis says, glancing down at Solis. He smiles softly and Prompto almost melts.

"Can't say I've ever had someone so excited to see me." Prompto mutters, slowly closing his eyes.

Noctis glances at him before moving on his back with Solis. He doesn't want to feel creepy and watch his best friend, crush and other father of their baby attempt to sleep.

"I mean probably a lot of things are exciting to him so I'm not special but...It's nice having someone so excited to see you...Makes you feel good. Like I'm actually doing good at this parenting deal." Prompto says, eyes closed. He's too drained to open them. "Just makes me feel like I'm loved."

"We love you." Noctis replies. "Solis adores you. Don't forget that."

"He adores you too." Prompto smiles as a blush dusts his cheeks. "I love you guys too."

Noctis will deny staring at that point but his heart punches his ribcage as if to call him out on his bullshit. He's falling hard and honestly he doesn't think he can just sit quiet and ignore it any longer.

* * *

Noctis wakes up, confused about when he actually fell asleep.

Prompto's still fast asleep and Solis is napping too safely tucked against Noctis' side. Noctis never moves so he's completely safe next to him.

Prompto seems to have turned over on his other side, his butt against Noctis' hip. He needs to pee but honestly he feels like it's a crime to wake the two blondes.

He lies there suffering for a few minutes before he forces himself up. He carefully picks up Solis and slowly gets up hoping not to wake Prompto or the baby.

Noctis slowly puts Solis down on his pillow and makes a little nest out using his jacket and Prompto's from the nearby couch. It's a temporary thing until he returns.

* * *

Prompto wakes up a minute after Noctis heads to the bathroom. He's still half asleep as he sits up, noticing Solis' little pillow and jacket "nest" as he does. He smiles tiredly, planting a kiss on his baby's cheek.

Then gets the idea to scoop up Solis and take him on a hunt to find Noctis which honestly is fairly short due to the fact Prompto wants to nap some more and his hair looks like a bird's nest currently. He doesn't need to be awake fully to know that.

He knocks on the bathroom door before opening the door and stumbling in like a zombie. Noctis is at the sink washing his hands, he pauses and glances over noticing Prompto.

"What's up?" he asks the sleepy blonde.

"M'cold…" said blonde replies as Noctis quickly finishes washing his hands.

"Yeah temperature dropped a little." he replies. "You can borrow a jacket if you want."

Prompto yawns widely, switching to holding Solis with one arm so he can scratch his head. His bird's nest state hair moves with said scratch. God how did his bed head get so bad?

"Tired?"

"Mmmh...Rubbing off on me." Prompto tiredly replies making Noctis snort.

"Go sleep then."

"Cold." Prompto mutters before heading over and resting against Noctis back.

Noctis at that point realises that Prompto wants him to return to bed. Most likely so he can steal body heat from him which makes him blush. It's not like they haven't shared a bed before but Prompto's never asked him to get back in bed.

Solis seems to wake up at that point, tiny hands patting Noctis' back. It's strangely grounding. Almost like his baby son is trying to comfort him but it's highly unlikely he is.

Prompto pulls away a second later and carefully brings Solis closer before turning and heading out of the bathroom.

Noctis follows him to the bed, smiling as Prompto hands over Solis and slides Noctis' jacket on. Astrals he looks adorable. Even more so when he turns around and grins at Noctis.

"I...I like you." Noctis speaks up, hearing an aww from Prompto moments later.

"Aww! I like you too buddy." he replies before sitting on the bed. He looks a little bit more awake now. Sounds it too.

Noctis sighs cause honestly that's not what he meant. He didn't mean platonically. Granted he does like him platonically obviously but that's not what this was. He just tried to confess and it went completely over Prompto's head.

He decides to sit next to Prompto, holding Solis close like he's keeping the nerves at bay. Solis clings to him, drooling on his shirt. He's trying to focus on actually speaking to Prompto.

"N-No I er….I love you." he mutters, noticing a confused look on Prompto's face.

"Sorry buddy I missed that."

"I said I love you!" Noctis cries, wincing moments later. He didn't intend to say it so loudly. Solis whines and he quickly apologises, rubbing the baby's back, hoping he won't wail.

Prompto looks to be in shock for a moment before he releases a shaky breath. A hand comes up to his face, fingers curling as he covers an eye. His face scrunches up and Noctis hears another shaky breath.

The prince's heart sinks the moment the tears start from Prompto and panic sets in when said blonde sobs harder. Did he fuck up? Why was he crying? Last thing he expected or wanted the blonde to do was cry over it. Was crying a good or bad reaction? He wasn't sure.

"Sorry if I made things weird.." Noctis speaks up. Hoping that honestly he didn't.

* * *

Prompto glances up at him, vision blurry with tears before Noctis practically drags him into a side hug. Prompto grips onto him like his life depends on it, quickly soaking his shirt with tears.

Noctis apologises over and over, sounding panicked before Prompto can actually speak up. Even when he tries his voice shakes but he's not gasping for breath thankfully.

"I-I just...Fuck I-I didn't think…" he sighs and stops, sniffling as he does.

"Didn't think what? You can't stop there." Noctis gently urges him to continue, concern in his tone.

"I didn't think anyone would love me."

Hearing that feels like a punch to the gut for Noctis. Like something inside him just shattered into a thousand pieces. It's heartbreaking to hear Prompto say that let alone wonder how long he's thought this.

Noctis decides to lie down with him and the baby, holding both boys closer as he does. Solis whimpers maybe because Prompto is upset. Noctis soothes him while also trying to soothe the blonde.

"You sell yourself short." he mutters at him.

"Huh?" Prompto sniffs and looks up in confusion.

"I'm pretty sure you had people who crushed on you in high school. Pretty sure you still have fans now." Noctis replies. "Plus...You're cute." he blushes a little as he says that.

Prompto snorts weakly and shakes his head. "You're just trying to make me feel better. If anyone other than you has girls gush over them it's probably Gladio."

"I mean they do but like I said you don't give yourself credit. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Noctis replies, turning scarlet.

Prompto blushes and wipes his eyes before speaking up. He still hasn't given Noctis an answer on his confession. He swallows and looks him in the eye.

"I love you too." he says, voice shaking a little when he does. He doesn't know why he's nervous when he knows full well that Noctis feels the same for him as he does for said royal.

Noctis actually beams at that point. Prompto thinks it's adorable, he laughs a little at how bright his little "night light" shines. He probably shouldn't call Noctis that or the royal will sulk about it.

Noctis kisses his head before Prompto leans up and stares at his lips. His galaxy eyes flick up to Noctis' blue ones and then back down to the lips before he speaks up.

"Can...Can I kiss you?" he asks nervously.

He doesn't get to wait for an answer as Noctis closes the gap between them. Their first kiss isn't perfect honestly but perfect doesn't matter to him. It doesn't matter that his lips are slightly chapped he hopes.

His lips aren't soft like Noctis' but hopefully it doesn't dampen the experience. He doubts it would cause honestly Noctis hasn't kiss anyone so he has no other examples to go off plus it's doubtful he'd care about such a tiny thing like chapped lips.

They part a few moments later. Faces flushed and smiles on their lips. Solis whines deciding he too wants kisses so the duo smirk and offer their baby cheek kisses much to the squealing infant's delight.

Prompto sighs a few moments later, gently stroking Solis' cheek. He didn't expect the day to go like this. It went from accidental injuries to kissing the crown Prince. Least the kiss turned the day around.

"I had something planned with Iggy. I was making chocolate with him to surprise you. I would have asked you out with it."  he mutters. "Can't say anyone's confessed to me at a caravan in a Chocobo ranch." he smiles softly.

"First time for everything… Also I wouldn't object to free chocolate just saying." Noctis says fondly making Prompto laugh.

Solis wriggles against Noctis, causing the duo to look at him. His eyes are in summoner mode. Or grabby hands at the Astrals mode as Prompto internally calls it since it doesn't summon them at all.

"Hey Sunbeam, no snitching to the Astrals." Prompto says fondly, smiling when Solis looks at him.

Solis blinks, his eyes turning blue again. They're both looking forward to finding out what the true eye colour will be. The baby squeals and flails against Noctis.

"I think little dude wants down." Prompto says. "Caravan's too tiny buddy for that. You'll get hurt."

Noctis carefully gets up, Prompto copying him moments later. The Prince places Solis on the bed and the infant quickly starts to crawl around on the bed. If he gets too close to the edge then he's scooped up and turned around to crawl to safety.

"So what are we?" Prompto asks, gently running a hand through Solis' blonde baby hair.

"Best friends and boyfriends. Is that ok?" Noctis says, glancing at Solis as the baby shrieks loudly. He's ok, just excited.

"More than ok." Prompto says softly, leaning over to kiss Noctis' forehead. "Who's going to realise first about us?"

"Maybe Iggy? I don't know."

"Yeah wouldn't surprise me." Prompto sighs and gently nuzzles his nose against Solis'. Solis responds by grabbing his nose. "Ow."

Noctis laughs at how weird his voice sounds before carefully prying Solis' hand from Prompto's nose.

"Not a fan of nose rubs Sol?" he asks, smile on his lips. Said baby sighs something he's never done before. He looks content so maybe it's a good thing. They should ask Gladio or Ignis.

Prompto picks him up, cradling him close, Solis makes little noises as he clings to Prompto, the odd coo thrown in there randomly as he does. The duo smile at him before Noctis leads the way out of the caravan.

"We should wait for Cor." Noctis mutters. Prompto agrees, laughing as Solis shrieks excitedly. "Someone's excited to meet him." Noctis says.

"First ever meeting, I bet pops is looking forward to it too." Prompto replies, kissing the baby's head. "What should we do to pass the time?"

"The chocolate thing with Iggy."

"Pretty sure he'd ban me from that due to my injuries."

"...Campfire stories then?" Noctis asks. Honestly not something he's ever experienced. It seems fun in theory plus it would pass the time.

"Aren't those supposed to be saved for dark?"

"...Does it matter?" Noctis asks. Last thing he wants is to tell scary stories at night and be up all night.

"Solis might get scared dude." Prompto replies, kissing the baby's head.

"I'll cover his ears."

Prompto seems content with that, heading over to Ignis and Gladio with the baby.

"We're gonna do scary stories. Wanna join?"

"Campfire stories? Ain't those for the dark?" Gladio asks. Prompto thought the same honestly.

Ignis raises a brow, glancing over at Noctis and then Prompto

"Are you certain this is wise?"

"We won't get scared. I swear." Prompto replies, huffing.

* * *

Prompto is practically shaking as Gladio tells his story. He's moved his chair closer to Noctis' so he can hold his hand for comfort

Solis has his ears uncovered as he's comfortably in his baby carrier on Noctis' chest. He'd whined when Noctis had covered his ears before Gladio started so they decided to allow him to listen.

Noctis has a death grip on Prompto's hand. He's trying not to look terrified but Prompto knows his new boyfriend well enough.

Gladio's tells the tale of mysterious people who lure travellers to their deaths which has Prompto nervously glancing around every five seconds. They sound like sirens honestly but with a twist.

"Why would I follow some creepy stranger in the woods?" Noctis asks.

"They don't look creepy. Just looks like person who needs help." Gladio replies. "They just walk out of the woods, sometimes run. Sometimes they take on forms of people you know."

"T-Then what happens?" Prompto asks.

Gladio makes a quick horizontal motion with a finger across his throat and Prompto pales. It goes quiet for a few seconds before a familiar voice speaks up.

"Miss me?"

Prompto screams, releasing his hand from Noctis' before Cor steps into the light. Prompto stares, clutching his chest dramatically as Gladio wheezes.

Solis stares at the new face, completely clueless on who he is. Noctis who's gripping his seat, quickly releases it and straightens up before muttering to Solis.

"That's Cor. Your grandpa."

Solis blinks and coos, making Noctis wonder if he understood that or not.

"Not funny!" Prompto cries before getting up to hug his dad. He's missed him more than anything.

#darkrose17 writes #darkrose17 writing #promptis #yay an update~ finally

[queenevaine]

Chapter 1:  Dwight

Dwight Fairfield was already a nervous person before being taken into the Entity’s realm.  He performed better than others under the stress of it all, and was able to lead them effectively. Experience in life or death struggles made him more nervous at every sound that was just a little too out of place.  He started always looking over his shoulder, should he find a quiet Shape watching him.  

When he woke up alone, he looked around in a panic.  The others never left him like this; especially not after learning what events pulled him into the nightmarish game.  He kept quiet, knowing better than to scream out in an unfamiliar woods despite the burned out fire.  He adjusted his glasses on his face, heart sinking to his stomach when a realization hit him.  

He did know this place; two years ago on that night his life changed forever.  No, this doesn't make sense!  He rested his hands on his temples, shaking his head clear.  This can't be right!  He slowly stood, the spots where the tents and cooler had been entirely clear.  This has to be some trick.  He looked up to the night sky, struck still by the bright, shining stars in the sky.  

The Entity didn't waste it's time on stars.  It was always a black, foreboding fog.  The sight of them now was a shock.  But how?  And why?  He sat still, just staring at the sky.  The others!  Where even were they?  And how am I ever going to find them?  He habitually brought his hand up to chew on his nails.  They were his only friends now, and he didn't want to lose them for the rest of his life.  

And he still had to figure out why he was suddenly here, and not at the campfire.  Did the Entity just decide it was bored?  He didn’t understand at all.  What if it was just me that got out?  He looked around the treeline at the thought of it.  What if they think I left them?  He swallowed, holding his arms to his chest and unsure whether or not the area around him was a fabrication.  

The sounds of the forest seemed so much more real than he was used to, and Dwight was attentive to every single one.  Every cricket, every breeze of wind, he heard them all, with a deep seated fear that just one wouldn't fit.  He had to be free, right?  He couldn't tell for sure, and he was terrified that wandering around would tear his bliss apart.  He lay back against the exposed dirt, closing his eyes and resting his glasses on his chest. Wait until the morning.

He woke with a start, hearing the distant sound of a dog’s bark. He was still at the clearing, right where he had gone to sleep.  The sun hadn't risen yet, but Dwight could see the colors in the sky just above the horizon.  He stared at it with awe, putting his glasses on slowly.  This is all real.  He heard a dog bark again, and slowly he stood, already thinking on how to explain everything to the people undoubtedly heading out here to camp.  

He looked down at his clothes and cursed.  They were still covered in his own blood, but you couldn't exactly be reassuring with that knowledge.  Oh, don't worry, this is all my blood!  Dwight could already imagine how that would go.  He groaned; there wasn't enough time to make himself look at least civilized.  He saw the dog before the owners, unleashed but definitely a Collie with a bright white collar. When it saw him, it paused, barking loudly at him.  

“Hey, Coach!  What're you barking at?”

The dog, Coach, kept barking at Dwight.  The owner ran to catch up, stopping when he made eye contact with Dwight.  Dwight bit his lip.  This looks terrible.  An anxious mess covered in blood.  Words failed him; he couldn't think of what to say.  The stranger pat Coach's side.  

“Hey man, you okay?”  

Dwight nodded, noticing now the Collie calmed down considerably.  

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay.  Just, kinda lost.”  

It was the truth, just not.. All of it.  This random guy didn’t need to know anything else.  The stranger seemed genuinely concerned, but that was probably because of the sheer amount of dried blood on his clothes.  

“Anyone you can call?  You could borrow my phone.”  

Dwight stiffened.  Did he have anyone?  He slowly shook his head.  

“Besides 9-1-1, I don’t have anybody to call.”  

The stranger’s expression softened, pulling out his phone with a nod.  

“Sure, just sit tight, alright?”  

With a nod, Dwight sat by the burned out fire.  Coach took a few steps forward, cautiously sniffing Dwight.  He held his hand out to it as the owner spoke calmly on the phone.  The Collie was more than happy to let Dwight pet it when the owner turned back to him.  

“Hey, sorry, what’s your name?”  

Right.  He took a deep breath before answering.  

“Dwight.  Dwight Fairfield.”  

The man repeated it over the phone, and Dwight went back to petting Coach.  He was a surprisingly soft dog for being the size of a small child.  Maybe I should get a dog.  

“Alright, paramedics should be here in about ten minutes.”  

Dwight nodded, realizing his hand was still on Coach’s head.  

“Sorry, I should’ve asked to pet your dog.”  

The man shook his head, patting Coach’s back roughly.  

“Nah, you’re good man.  Coach acts all tough, but he’s a big softie.  Isn’t that right, bud?”  

Coach barked happily, tail wagging as he tried to stand on his hind legs and lick his owner’s face.  

“Name’s Jack, by the way.”  

“Dwight.  But uh, I already told you that.”

Dwight stood to shake Jack’s hand, wrapping his arms around his stomach when Jack released his hand.  

“Where ya from anyway?  I come out here quite a bit.”  

Dwight paused.  I don’t still have my apartment, do I?

“Uh, I’m from around here, actually.  It’s a.. Long story.”  

Please don’t ask.  Please, for the love of God, don’t ask.  Jack nodded a couple times, looking around the treeline.  

“Well, I won’t pry.  Moved here last year from Montana, and honestly thought I’d gotten to know everyone that lived here by now.”  

Dwight just shrugged.  Damn it, Dwight, always the social failure.  The early morning was so quiet, they could hear the sirens from the campsite.  

“Well, paramedics should be here soon.  You seem like a good guy, so don’t hesitate to stop by sometime to chat, yeah?”  

Jack pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket, scribbling his name, address, and phone number on it and handing it over.  Jackson Ferros.  Dwight stuffed the paper into his pocket, his attention turning to the two people in uniforms that jogged towards them.  He turned to watch Jack walk further into the woods with Coach, taking a deep breath to quell the fear in him.  He turned to the paramedics, letting them guide him along the trail.  

“We’re just gonna drive you to the hospital and check you over, okay?”  

He nodded to the woman, a shorter, stockier woman with a sweet voice and bright green eyes.  She clearly spent plenty of time in the sun, and she almost reminded him of Claudette.  

“Yeah, that’s okay.”  

“And you said your name was?”  

“Dwight Fairfield.”  

“Okay Dwight, are you hurt at all?  What is the last thing you remember?”  

Dwight rubbed his neck.  How can I even explain what the Entity is?  

“N-No, I’m not hurt at all.  At least, I don’t feel it.  A-and I last remember falling asleep by a campfire.  I was.. It’s.. complicated and.. Hard to talk about.”  

He sighed.  He sounded absolutely insane.  This time, the other paramedic spoke up, just as he started to see the flashing lights of the ambulance.  

“You’ve been missing for two years, Dwight.  If you want to, you could talk to a therapist on staff about it.”  

He simply nodded.  Are they even going to believe me?  He sighed, stepping into the back of the ambulance.  He looked around, all too familiar with some of the tools there.  How often did I have to patch myself up with some crude recreation?  He blinked back to reality when he heard his name.  

“Dwight?  You might want to sit down.”  

He mumbled an apology, sitting on the cushioned bench in the back.  The paramedics sat on the either side of him, the first one calling to the driver.  

“Good to go!”  

Dwight sat in the back of the ambulance, staring ahead as he thought about everything.  He probably didn’t have anything left, and the thought was daunting.  He thought back to the paper in his pocket.  I barely know him.  He bit his lip, looking down to the floor of the ambulance.  The thought of living his life as normal wasn’t one he had often, but he had to start somewhere.  He could be honest, about everything.  The way his co-workers left him, how he tried to get out himself, and the two years of hell in the Entity’s realm.  

Would it all even help?  He pressed his hand to his chest, looking up to the ceiling as he felt the soft, rhythmic beating of his heart.  His heart, not some indication of danger growing closer and closer.  He unbuttoned his shirt to check if there were any scars, anything to prove he had been impaled God knows how many times through his chest.  Yet there was absolutely nothing, no change in skin color, no tenderness to the touch.  The only thing Dwight had was the memory of the searing pain.  

“Dwight?  Are you okay?”  

The first paramedic spoke, and he could see the genuine concern in her eyes.  He really missed Claudette now.  He nodded, resting his arms in his lap.  

“Yeah, just.. Thinking.”  

He sighed.  She gave a small smile.  

“That’s okay, you’ll have plenty of time to rest and talk everything out at the hospital.  If it’s alright with you, I just wanted to check for any injuries.”  

He loosened his tie and lifted his shirt over his head, looking over the stained fabric.  It was an unsettling thought to be so used to it, that it didn't even faze him.  He kept his gaze on the metal floor as she inspected him for injuries, shirt bundling up in his arms.  She sat back, tilting her head slightly.  

“The blood on your shirt, is that someone else’s?”  

Dwight shook his head.  

“No, it’s.. Mine, but..  It’s complicated.  There were others too.”  

She nodded, holding her hands together.  

“You can explain everything when we get to the hospital.”  

He simply nodded, putting his shirt back on and closed his eyes, thinking about how to explain everything that happened to him.  

#QueenEve Writes #DbD Story: Freedom #Dead By Daylight #Dwight Fairfield