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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 9 months

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taedros tresdros

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part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

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warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

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“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety.

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there.

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you?

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you.

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor.

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?”

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. “i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand.

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim.

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

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stuffthatsrandomish · 3 months

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Some thoughts about this situation in my pov: I've watched the qsmp since the beginning and has trusted Quackity and the team to continue making the best events and plots that I've never seen before. But when the eggs started dying, the ccs complaining about the task system, how many ccs stopped playing Qsmp when the eggs disappeared and during Purgatory, the amount of hate I see for anyone that wasn't 'popular enough' I think it tired me out as well. And now with all of this coming to light and is currently and hopefully getting fixed behind the scenes, it's safe to say that many changes will be happening and hopefully now we can be heard and listened to.

Will I be waiting for the outcome, probably as a viewer and bystander, but as someone who posts qsmp content daily, I'm gonna have to stop for my own sake. Now I've been thinking this over since a few weeks ago before the whole 'Wilbur Soot' apology came out, but I've decided to stop posting my own post about Qsmp entirely. It's mostly for my health and benefit as I was losing sleep and falling behind school work due to this routine I made months ago. Plus I was also wondering if im committing plagiarism for doing this and yeah if this account is deleted then you'll know why. I wanted to say this Sunday but thought about waiting another week to say anything and now this happens and welp now here we are.

Am I going to stop reposting or being active entirely? No, I'll still be here in spirit and in the corner of Tumblr but I will not be posting anymore news or events that happens in or about the Qsmp from my own account. Like I stated before in the last paragraph above this one.

Now this isn't about me, this is about the admins who are overworked, not payed enough, and even threatened of being sued for speaking out, and especially for those who were ignored by the admins that made this mess in the first place. I hope further onwards that better decisions will be made and better people will be taking care of the Qsmp team. And I wish goodwill for those that had to deal with those admins and neglect on a daily basis without having a right to complain otherwise they'd be fired.

It's been a shitty year so far and we are barely getting started on it. Let's hope for a brighter and better future, everyone! ♡♡♡

#qsmp #qsmp admins #quackity

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tswaney17 · 2 years

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My Son

As I write this, it saddens me to know that this is my last @elriel-month fic. This month went by so quickly, and there was such amazing content produced from it. I want to recognize all of the fantastic people who participated in Elriel Month, both in producing content and those who consistently like, comment, reblog, share, etc. the work that is produced. It's been such a fun month, and a huge thank you to all of those who put it on. A lot of time, effort, and work goes on behind the scenes to keep these appreciation months running. Y'all are amazing. 🌸🦇

Now on to the fic. This is part 2 of Little One. I've had this fic written for months and I'm super excited to share it with you. Please let me know your thoughts! 💙💜💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, some descriptions of canon-typical violence, very minor adult descriptions

Word Count: 4,127

Elain sat at their kitchen table, a gurgling Rosalie tucked in the crook of her arm, Kaden sat across from her munching on some freshly baked pastries, cured meats, and sipping on fruit juice. A cup of tea rested against her palm as she smiled down at her son who happily hummed while eating his breakfast, bare feet kicking under his chair. It was just the three of them this morning, Azriel having been called away by their High Lord for an urgent meeting at nearly the crack of dawn.

He apologized profusely for not only waking her so early but also for having to leave her, to which he made up for with his head between her legs as the sun broke the horizon, casting an orange glow into their bedroom.

“How do you like your pastries, Kaden?” she asked, readjusting her swaddled daughter who had started to fuss in her arms. Though thoroughly sated, once the shadowsinger left their bed this morning, Elain knew she wasn’t going back to sleep and decided to get up and try out a new pastry recipe for breakfast.

The little Illyrian flashed her a big, toothy grin. “I wuv them, momma!” he shouted excitedly, crumbs smeared on his pink lips.

Elain couldn’t help the way her heart swelled at being called momma by him. It had taken quite a while for Kaden to grow comfortable in his new home. He had been living with them for right around five months now and had only begun calling her “momma” a few weeks ago. He had yet to bless Azriel with a fatherly name, much to his dismay, but they both knew that with Kaden’s early childhood ordeal, his attachment to Illyrian males would be a slow one. It would come, he just needed to be patient she assured him.

They also took introducing Kaden to his new family slowly, only allowing them over one at a time so as to not overwhelm him. Meeting Elain’s sisters and Mor went easily enough, but that wasn’t where they were concerned. Though Rhys was the High Lord and half Illyrian, Kaden was clearly more intimidated by Cassian’s larger stature and permanent presence of wings. The general, hoping to bond with the little one, proceeded to sit on the floor with their son for an hour and played with the stuffed bear he brought with him. It wasn’t until Nesta showed up looking for her husband that Cassian departed, happily receiving a shy hug on his one leg before he left.

“I’m glad, sweetie. Maybe next time I make them, you can help momma? Would you like to do that?”

Little hands hit the table in excitement. “Yes! Yes, pwease momma, can we?”

She smiled down at him with so much love. “Of course, baby.” Elain propped Rosalie on her shoulder, running a soothing hand down her back as the terrace door opened and her husband entered. “Look, Kaden. Daddy’s home. Why don’t you go get dressed now so we can head out soon?”

Despite not calling Azriel “daddy” yet, both he and Elain had decided to refer to each other by paternal names in hopes that it would encourage him to make the connection as to who he was to them, and who they were to him.

He was their son.

And they were his parents.

No matter the blood or lineage, nothing would change that.

“Okay!” He wiggled from his chair and made a mad dash from the table to his bedroom as the shadowsinger approached, a soft smile on his face watching Kaden run from the kitchen.

Azriel dropped a kiss to her lips, and then one to the top of Rosalie’s head, his fingers brushing her rogue wisps of curls. “Good morning, my little love,” he whispered.

She couldn’t help but smile at their daughter’s coo of greeting. “What did Rhys need you for so early this morning?” Elain asked as they began clearing the table of the breakfast spread.

Hazel eyes met her gaze and something twisted in her stomach at the worry she saw there. “There’s been a scuffle at one of the Illyrian camps,” he stated, setting dishes in the sink.

Elain’s brows furrowed. “How bad?”

“Rhys, Cassian, and I are about to head there to handle the situation.”

The inflection of his voice told her that there was information left unsaid. “There’s something else.”

Azriel huffed, leaning back against the counter. His strong arms crossed over his broad chest. “It’s the camp that Kaden’s biological father is at.”

The thought of that awful male made Elain want to find her son, cradle him in her lap, and never let go. “Do you think we should be concerned?”

He ran a scarred hand through his inky locks. “He’s a camp Lord and we are within the twenty-four-hour window of the Blood Rite, which means he has magic and can winnow. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” Those golden irises blazed in fury.

“Lorenzo didn’t want anything to do with him. Why would he be making a fuss now?” It didn’t make sense. That male lost any right to claim Kaden as his son when he dropped him off at that orphanage and didn’t come back. Elain had later learned that her son had been there going on a year now and the Lord hadn’t made a peep about his child. It was both heartbreak and rage that had warred within her at that knowledge.

The shadowsinger shrugged. “Maybe word got back to him that he was adopted?”

“He left him at an orphanage!” she hissed, patting Rosalie’s back when she started to squirm.

Azriel took a step closer to her, his hand touching the back of his daughter’s head. “I think it could be about who adopted him too,” he said a bit quietly.

Elain’s heart twisted. She knew what he was hinting at. That the camp Lord wouldn’t deem Az worthy enough to raise even a child he gave up. “If he believes you unworthy to love that boy then I’ll kill him myself.”

The corner of his lips turned up briefly. “I will never stop being grateful for your devotion to me, my love.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I know you don’t like to be sidelined and that you can protect yourself, but I think you and the kids should stay away from Illyria today. I just—” a frustrated hand ran through his hair. “I can help but worry that the scuffle at the camp is to pull me away from you three at the orphanage.”

“Az,” she breathed, reaching out to grip his forearm, thumb swiping soothing strokes over his tanned, tattooed skin. “You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question.

He ducked his head. “Of course, I’m scared. He’s my son. Our son. I will do anything to protect him, Rosalie, and you.”

Elain nodded in agreement. “We don’t take chances here, not when it comes to our children. If you think there’s a risk with the three of us going to the camps, no matter how small, we won’t go. I won’t put our babies in danger.”

Her husband let out a sigh of relief, tugging her and Rosalie into his arms. He kissed her softly, conveying all his love and emotion for her and their little family from his lips. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. “Feyre said she has a morning class with some younger children at the studio today and that you’re more than welcome to bring Kaden by to paint.”

“I think he would like that. Maybe we’ll take a stroll through the Rainbow and the park by the Sidra, too.”

It was rare to see the Night Court spymaster drop all his masks and show his true self. A male so full of love, joy, and devotion. But since the birth of Rosalie, and the adoption of Kaden, Elain had seen it more and more on Azriel’s face. It was her favorite look on him, one he tended to wear when he fed and rocked his little girl to sleep, or when he’d peek in on his son as he slept, checking to make sure he was okay. It was the same look he wore now.

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Padded feet tore down the hallway and slid into the kitchen. Both parents turned to look at a disheveled Kaden.

“Azweel! Can you but-tin my wing slots, pweeze?”

A low chuckle rumbled from Azriel’s chest as he stepped out of her embrace. “Sure buddy, come here.”

Kaden’s undeveloped magic prevented him from being able to button the flaps of his shirt around his wings alone. He’d be able to eventually, but for now, either she or Az would have to help him, not that they minded.

“Wings up,” Azriel said, reaching underneath the membranes to snap the flaps together.

“Where are your shoes?” Elain asked, once his shirt was secured.

Little, tanned toes fluttered on the stone floor. “By the door, momma.”

Her husband helped Kaden tug on his shoes as Elain secured a now sleeping Rosalie to her chest, allowing both her arms to be free. It was a wrap that Feyre swore by when she had Nyx, and Elain was inclined to agree. Having both arms available while she ran errands was indeed a lifesaver.

After explaining the change of plans to Kaden, he reached up and took Azriel’s ring and pinky finger in his small hand. “Are you coming with us?”

Her husband knelt, “Sorry, buddy. Uncle Rhys needs daddy’s help right now.”

Kaden’s lower lip jutted out in a way that Elain knew Azriel struggled to say no to. Even now, she could see the war of his vow to his High Lord and the need to protect his son dance across his face with his desire to stay with them.

He cleared his throat. “Tell you what; as soon as I’m finished with your uncle, I’ll meet up with you guys and we’ll spend the rest of the day together. How does that sound?”

The little Illyrian brightened, and he shouted in glee.

Az tugged him to his chest, kissing him on the top of his black hair. “I’ll see you later, son. I love you.”

“I wuv you too, Azweel.”

He stood, turning back to her.

“Be safe,” Elain said lowly enough to not let Kaden overhear them.

Az nodded. “I will. I’ll come home as soon as I can.” He slid a hand to her jaw to kiss her, careful of their daughter between them, then pecked the top of Rosalie’s head. “I love you,” he whispered to them both, before vanishing into the shadows.

Elain’s stomach turned restlessly. Something about the whole situation still didn’t feel right, but she would stay strong for both her husband and her son. Swallowing her nerves, she took Kaden’s hand to make their way into the bustling streets of Velaris.

~~~

The three of them strolled through the park along the glittering waters of the Sidra River having finished their painting session earlier and a delicious lunch at a small café moments ago. Kaden’s painting was sitting at Feyre’s studio, which Elain was to go pick up in a few days once it was dry. It was mostly strokes of colors and handprints, but she still thought it was the most beautiful artwork, biased or not.

Warm rays of the sun beat down on them, bringing about a flush of color on her skin and the golden hues on both of her children’s darker complexions.

Kaden had taken off, chasing after a colorful butterfly.

Elain followed the sounds of his giggles. “Stay close, Kaden!” she called when he got a bit too far for her comfort.

Ever the good listener, he rounded back towards her, stopping to look at a small coping of rose bushes. “Look, momma! Woses!” he shouted, the r sound still coming out like a w. It was something they were working on with him.

“Yes, they are, good job!” she said back, stopping beneath a shaded tree for some much-needed cooling. Kaden had taken to her garden and she took the time to teach him the names of the various plants and flowers she was growing.

Elain placed a hand on the top of Rosalie’s head, feeling the warmth of it. It was an unusually balmy spring day, one that predicted the early onset of summer.

A blip on the horizon caught her eye. She watched it as it came closer, membranous wings flapping to send it hurtling through the sky towards her.

Elain’s head cocked as she studied the movement, so unlike her husband’s elegance, Cassian’s strong presence, or even Rhys’s regal grace. Brown eyes widened as she realized who, exactly, was flying towards her.

Towards her son.

She was moving then. “Kaden!” she screamed, “Kaden, come here, right now!”

At his mother’s distressed voice, he turned, running towards her.

With a hand holding onto the back of Rosalie, Elain cradled Kaden’s head and shoved him behind her just as the Illyrian male slammed into the ground in front of them. She felt the impact through her feet.

The park was fairly empty, but the few fae present took off at the sight of the unknown Illyrian, leaving her utterly alone with him.

Kaden’s fists gripped the skirts of her lilac dress, and though every instinct in her told her never to back down from a threat, she would not risk it with both of her children in the line of fire. Elain stepped back, moving her son with her.

The male, a version of what her son may one day have features of, savagely grinned down at her. A sharp jaw, high cheekbones with a long nose. His hair was worn similar to how Cassian kept his, but a shade or two lighter. He wasn’t as large as her husband, she realized. Az had him beat by several inches and his shoulders weren’t nearly as broad. But even with that knowledge, everything about the male in front of her screamed warrior.

Dangerous.

Threat.

Her magic rumbled in her chest in response. The siphon on her ring flared once, throwing up a thin barrier between them and him—Azriel’s magic sealed away for when she needed it. The shadow that adorned her finger as a wedding band vanished.

“So,” he drawled, sounding utterly bored. “I finally get to meet the pretty, little pet that has captured the heart of the bastard-born shadowsinger.”

Elain snarled at the taunt. “Watch your tongue, Lorenzo,” she snapped.

That malicious grin grew. “And you’ve heard of me. Perfect. Hand over my son, and I’ll be on my way.”

She angled herself, shielding Kaden further behind her. “He is not your son. Unless you have a death wish, I suggest you flap your way back to where you came from.”

The smirk faded and something far deadlier took its place. “My blood runs through his veins—”

“Blood doesn’t make you a father,” she spat, vehemently. “You lost your right to claim him when you left him at that orphanage. Kaden is mine and Azriel’s son. Now and forever.”

“If you think I’m going to let you and that pathetic excuse of an Illyrian raise—”

Her blood raged like a weathered storm. One that toppled the largest of ships and swept armies into the depths of the sea. Her magic responded in kind, light bursting out of her and shoving him back a step. His eyes widened at the surprise drop she got on him. “That pathetic excuse of an Illyrian is a thousand times more of a male than you could ever dream of being. And if you say one more thing like that about my husband, I will gut you here in this park.”

The red siphon flickered on his chest in response to her attack. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” he demanded, voice edging dangerously close to levels Elain knew meant he was about to lose his temper.

She curled the corner of her mouth up. “A low-level camp lord with a single siphon? Yes, I know exactly who I’m speaking to.” She threw as much disdain in her voice as she could muster. “I think the better question is, do you know who you’re speaking to?” At his silence, she grinned. “Cauldron-blessed Seer. The Mother reincarnated. And what are you here doing? Trying to take a child away from his mother. Believe me when I say I won’t let that happen.”

“I’ll end you and your brat if need be,” he countered, taking a step forward to try and intimidate her.

But Elain had felt another’s presence as he neared. Saw in her peripheral vision the dark swath of shadows above their heads. “You hurt me or my daughter, you take my son, and I can promise you that you won’t make it out of Velaris alive.”

Before he could respond, a solid mass of muscle and wings dropped from the sky, forcing Lorenzo to take a step back lest he wanted to be smashed beneath Azriel’s large frame. Her husband’s knees bent as he landed, absorbing the impact. As he stood to his full height, his wings stretched out, blocking her and their children from the other male’s view.

The ground shook from his landing, and Elain felt Kaden push himself further into her legs. She brushed her thumb over the back of his head, hoping to soothe him with her touch.

“Get back,” Azriel growled, voice colder than what he used as the Night Court spymaster. Shadows skittered out, flitting around her and the kids, searching for any signs of injury. When they finished their assessment, they turned their attention back on Lorenzo, swirling like shards of ice, pushing him back, back, back. “Stay away from my son.”

“He is not your son.”

"We adopted him. We took him into our home. We fed him, and clothed him, and loved him. He is as much our son as our daughter is and nobody is going to take that away from us.” He took several steps forward, forcing the male backward again.

With the added space between them, Elain felt the shield in front of her reinforce itself.

“Momma,” Kaden croaked through the plaits of her skirts. Large tears filled his hazel eyes.

Her hand swept through his hair. “It’s okay, Kaden. You’re safe.” She pulled him closer to her hip, letting her other hand come down to rest protectively on his cheek. Her thumb brushed away the tears that spilled over his dark lashes.

Kaden buried his face back into swaths of her dress.

Thunder cracked like two boulders crashing together.

Elain’s head snapped to the side to see Rhys step out of rolling darkness, decked in his full Illyrian leathers. His lack of normal attire told her he had come ready for bloodshed.

“Lorenzo,” the High Lord drawled. “You’re far from home.”

The other Illyrian, seeing he was now outnumbered, grew even more furious. “I came to take what was is mine,” he fumed, reaching back for the sword sheathed across his back.

“He is not some object for you to collect,” Az stated furiously.

“He is mine,” the Lord shot back.

Azriel tensed, glancing back at her and then looking down at Kaden who was peeking at them behind her skirts.

Elain saw his hand twitch for the legendary dagger strapped to his thigh, but he didn’t grab it.

He returned his gaze to Lorenzo. “I’m not going to end your life here, no matter that you deserve it. My son has already seen enough bloodshed in his short life because of you. I won’t add to that.”

The camp Lord just smiled, “Then you’re only going to make him as weak as you are.” And then he struck, the Illyrian metal singing as it aimed for a killing blow—decapitation.

Seven blue siphons flared. Lorenzo went flying backward, his sword ripped from his hand by shadows.

“Daddy!”

“Kaden!” Elain screamed, reaching out to try and stop the little Illyrian from running into the fray, but it was too late.

His little legs carried him fast over the ground and Azriel barely had a chance to whip around before a little body tackled him. “Daddy!” he cried again, clutching at his leathers with small fists.

A blue shield shot up, enclosing her husband and her son in a protective barrier. He wasted no time lifting Kaden into his arms, a scarred hand threading through his black tresses to hold him close.

Tiny arms went around his neck as Kaden pressed his damp face above the collar of his Illyrian leathers. “I don’t wanna go,” he whimpered into his shoulder.

Azriel moved his hand from the back of his head to between his wings, rubbing strokes like he would when his son would wake with nightmares. “You’re not going anywhere, Kaden. Nobody is taking you from us.” He kissed the side of his head, allowing a few minutes to comfort his son.

Elain’s heart ached, wanting to go to them, but also not wanting to let a second child get too close to Lorenzo’s unhinged state again.

Azriel nodded towards her, assuring her that their son was safe.

It sent a wave of relief rushing through her.

He turned, finding Rhys hauling Lorenzo to his feet.

The disgust on the Illyrian male’s face at her husband holding their son made her hackles rise, enough so that her magic rumbled in response. She dampened it, not wanting to wake her daughter that somehow had stayed asleep through everything so far.

The look of the spymaster replaced Az’s hardened features. “I granted you a chance to walk away. I want you to remember that when your High Lord winnows you back to the camp to face him and your general. But if you come after my family again, you even have thoughts about my son, your life is forfeited.” Azriel gave his brother a curt nod, watching as the High Lord and Lorenzo winnowed away.

Shields lowered and both parents were striding for each other. Tears pricked her eyes as her husband embraced her and Rosalie with one arm, still holding Kaden in his other. Scarred fingers found her jaw, tilting her head up to bring their mouths together in a desperate kiss, needing to feel her presence. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his eyes darting to check over their daughter.

“We’re fine,” she breathed, her hand reaching up to lay it on Kaden’s lower back, rubbing it. She glanced back up at her husband’s face, seeing a look of awe that had settled there.

He called me daddy, he mouthed at her, silver lining his eyes. He had been waiting for Kaden’s willingness to grace him with that name—had been getting antsy for it.

Elain let out a choked sound, gripping her husband’s wrist with her other hand. I know, she mouthed back.

Kaden twisted his head, propping his cheek on Azriel’s shoulder, his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

The shadowsinger dropped a kiss to his forehead as Elain let her nails scratch at his back. “I was going to suggest we go get a frozen treat after our walk,” she started, catching her son’s eyes. There was a far-off look that she didn’t like seeing. “Does that sound good to you, Kaden?”

The little Illyrian nodded, though he gave no vocal response.

It worried her, his unwillingness to speak. They had broken through so many barriers in getting him to open up after he came home with them—she hated the idea of this setting him back. “Do you want to see if daddy can join us?” she tried, seeing how he clung to his father, though she knew Az had no intentions of leaving them alone.

Not for a while.

She also knew Az was well aware of what she was trying to do too.

Kaden was silent for a moment, but both parents waited patiently, giving him the time to voice his thoughts. “Can you, daddy?” he finally whispered.

The shadowsinger visibly hugged him tighter, resting his cheek on the top of his head. “Of course, we can,” he choked out. The emotional vulnerability rang clear in his voice. Lifting Kaden higher up on his hip, Azriel took Elain’s hand in his scarred one and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles.

Her heart swelled. Resting a hand on the back of a still sleeping Rosalie, the family of four strolled through the park and spent the rest of the day enjoying treats and each other’s company.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

Hey, that YAILY ask you answered a few anons back, how you mentioned you were trying to figure out how Izzy finds Read. "greasepaint is a bitch to get out of fabric" - what about Izzy tries taking it to dry cleaners, but "hmm, that kid on the other side of the street looks like they’re about to keel over-oh, never mind they did, welp, guess its hospital time. Hey eddy, I'm in the ER, no, no allergies, someone got stabbed. No, not me. anyway, how do feel about having a guest for dinner tonight?"

(ANON ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS! And anon who initially requested this, I hope this at last scratches the itch)

Fridays, Izzy picked up and dropped off the dry cleaning. He was so regular that they usually had it ready for him. The prices was generally astronomical thanks to a million kinds of fabric pressed against his work uniforms, but he paid it unthinkingly. Such was the way of his world.

"Sorry!" Marcus behind the counter called when he came in that day. "We've been overloaded this week, yours is ready, just buried. Give me five?"

Izzy nodded, turning to head back outside. It was a decent day and the smell of the dry cleaners was not a favorite. He cased the street idly. The kid that lingered by the convenience store was there again today. They'd appeared a week or two ago, not quite panhandling, but not refusing the few dollars that Izzy offered as he walked by either.

They were big, for all they folded down small. Smaller than last week. Hm. They were listing a little.

....and there they went. Shit. Izzy pushed off the wall, checked traffic, then hustled across the street.

He squatted down to their side,

"Hey," he said sharply, clearly. "You alive?"

No answer. Shit. He touched them gently, got a pulse and could hear them breathing. There was blood, he realized, soaking through the arm of their shirt at an astounding rate. Clinically, he took out his cell, punched numbers, jammed it between his shoulder and ear even as he got out his knife and started cutting away at their sleeve.

"What's your emergency?" A calm voice asked him,

"Hey, Barb, it's Izzy. I've got a fainter on Broadway, in front of the Sip and Go. Looks like blood loss I'm trying to get at the wound now."

"Why are you calling me?" Barb asked.

"It's my day off. Can I get a bus?"

"Lucky you, huh? Okay, I'm sending someone to your location. Do you know anything about them?"

He glanced at the face, broken nose definitely, along with a split lip.

"No, looks young, white. Underfed." He got the sleeve open and found a wicked, ragged wound. "Cut inflicted by something dull or went in dirty. They're going to need stitches, tetanus shot and probably a blood bag. Who's on duty?"

"Deb and Skunk are on their way to you."

"Great, thanks."

The cops always showed to scenes, but Deb and Skunk were a good smokescreen. They showed, got the kid on a stretcher and in the bus, Izzy still putting pressure on the wound until Skunk took over. The cops would get a bare bones statement later.

They didn't come to on the way to the hospital and being unconscious got you some privileges. They were whipped away past the waiting room. An hour later, one of the nurses that he knew well let him into the room.

"No ID," the nurse told him solemnly. "They've been sleeping rough, if I had to guess. There's a shelter that we can direct them too when they're up and about."

"Yeah, good," Izzy nodded.

Eddy: where'd you go to get the dry cleaning? Russia?

Izzy: in the er. not for me. kid passed out on the sidewalk. blood loss. must've been in a hell of a fight.

Eddy: you took them in?

Izzy: wasn't going to just leave them.

Eddy: ok. no dry cleaning?

Izzy: going to stay until they wake up at least.

That wasn't too long a wait. Eyelids fluttered open a few minutes later followed by a bone deep groan. Izzy waited until they'd sat up a little, oriented themselves.

"Am I in the fucking hospital?" they groaned.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you free bleed everywhere like a dipshit," Izzy leaned back in the chair, relieved that they seemed with it. "Who beat your face in?"

"I beat their face in," they said, a vicious undercurrent in their voice that he appreciated vastly.

"Got learn how to duck then."

"Who are you?" they asked warily.

"Lucky you, a bystander who moonlights as an EMT. Izzy Hands. You?"

"Read."

"You got somewhere to go home to, Read? Because the nurses are going to come back with pamphlets, tissues and questions."

They shifted, looked away.

"Sure I do."

"Uh huh."

He stayed while the nurses came in, then the doctors. Then the cops. He didn't say much. All he learned was her pronouns, and that she did not, in fact, have an address to provide. She gave nothing away about the fight and stonewalled them at every turn.

Izzy: she's homeless

Eddy: fuck, fine. I'll make the guest bed. where was all this sainthood in our twenties?

Izzy: drowned by the booze probably

Eddy: pickled. I'm leaving for the bar in an hour.

Izzy: probably miss you entirely then. see you on monday.

Read argued about going home with him right up until the nurse asked about calling a family member and then all of a sudden, Izzy was a dear family friend as it turned out. He had to leave to get the car and she was waiting in the parking lot when he got back.

"Grabbed your bag," he pointed in the backseat and relief passed over her face.

The further out they got, the tenser she went, but there wasn't much he could do for that. It was warm out, and the garden was in full bloom as he pulled up the drive. The sight of that seemed to ease her a little.

"This your work?"

"Nah, that's Eddy."

"Eddy is your..."

"Spouse. But they're with their boyfriend this weekend," he could generally say that in a neutral tone these days. Practice made mediocrity or something.

"Oh," Read settled on and followed him inside.

He got her set up in the guest room, pointed out the bathroom then made himself scarce. She falls asleep before he can get dinner into her.

Read haunted the house that weekend. He left food out for her, lets her maintain her space. He spent a lot of time outside. On Sunday, Lucius called and Izzy caught him up.

"You took in a stray?"

"Seemed like the thing to do," he meandered through the vegetable patch.

"Did it? Look at you. Very cute. What will you do with her?"

"Dunno if she'll let me do jack shit, but she needs help."

"She's staying, that means something."

Eddy came home on Monday morning in a great mood. She was singing to herself, and came to find him right away.

"Where's the girl?" Eddy wound an arm around Izzy's waist.

"In the guest room, probably," he stepped in closer.

Eddy kissed him, other hand sinking into his hair and Izzy just managed to switch off the burner before losing himself in it.

"Oh, shit, sorry," someone said and Eddy broke off with a soft sigh, turning.

"No worries," she shoved off Izzy, and held out a hand. "Eddy."

"Read," Read said tightly. "I was um. I'm going to-"

And she was gone.

"What the fuck?" Eddy glanced back at Izzy.

"No idea. She's skittish."

Skittish enough that Izzy caught her headed for the door later that night.

"You going to walk to town?" He asked from the couch and watched her jump about a foot in the air.

"Shit," she muttered.

"If you've got somewhere, I'll give you a ride," he offered mildly. "But otherwise that's a long fucking stumble in the dark."

"I can't stay," she lifted her pack a little.

"Why not?" Her eyes flicked up the stairs. "Eddy?"

Read looked at him miserably, not saying a word.

"Iz?" Eddy called down the stairs, "Where's the- oh! Never mind, found it."

"What about them?"

Read only shook her head, moved closer to the door.

"Shit, fine, hold on," Izzy got out his phone.

Group Text: THEM

Izzy: one twenty-something idiot needs temporary housing asap

Lucius: re-homing already?

Izzy: she doesn't want to stay, but it's us or the street so someone better pony the fuck up

Jim: she can stay on our futon

Roach: that's cruel and unusual punishment.

Jim: what about your place then?

Roach: fuck no.

Stede: It's not very large, but I have Alma's room if she'd like it.

Izzy hesitated, watched the way Read stood in the moonlight, ready to bolt. Not the fucking time.

Izzy: fine. we'll be there in an hour.

"Your lucky day," he told her, getting up. "Give me five. You've got a bed in the city."

"That's where I was headed," she said quietly. "I can get work there."

"Stede'll give you a job. And anything else your want if you turn those big blues on him. He's a fucking soft touch."

He went upstairs. Eddy was in their closet, putting away laundry.

"I saw the texts," they said, not looking up. "It's me, huh?"

"She's scared shitless of you," he agreed.

"Smart girl," she smoothed down the folds of a t-shirt, voice tight.

"Hey," Izzy stepped in closer. "Not like you did anything."

"No, I know," Eddy brushed hair back from her forehead. "Honestly, I didn't want her here anyway. But...still. Doesn't feel great."

"You'll win her over," Izzy said with certainty. "Everyone always winds up liking you better than me."

"That's cause you're an incurable asshole," she smiled at him touched his wrist. "But I think maybe not this time."

"Every time," he countered and kissed her cheek. "I'll drive her in."

Stede was waiting and Izzy could practically taste Read's relief at the sight of the man, about as threatening as a loofah. Izzy didn't bother telling her how dangerous Stede was in his own right. She needed to believe she was safe and she was. Good enough.

"You're not headed straight back home?" Stede frowned as Izzy lingered in the door, watching Read run a hand over the velvet couch.

"Yeah," he said readily. "I am."

"But-"

"Eddy," Izzy shrugged.

"Oh. Yes. I suppose..."

They stared helplessly at each other. It wasn't a bridge Izzy could bring himself to build, but once and a great long while, he appreciated looking over the valley anyway. To see someone else that had a general idea of the circumstance,

"Night, Bonnet. Night, Read."

"Good night," Read stepped towards him then stopped. "Thanks. For everything."

Izzy went home to crawl into bed with Eddy. He knew he was a living reminder of the past, but he could kiss her the way they did now. Be a reminder of the now too.

And he was right, of course. Eddy won Read over though it took months and a red head and the kind of night Izzy thought he'd never see again.

Read technically had a terrible little room that she would tell everyone was her home address, but after that, she lived scattershot between Bonnet's studio, Izzy and Eddy's house and sometimes even on Jim's terrible futon. It was only when Anne and her started both making a reasonable living that she genuinely had her own place. Even then, often she'd drive out on Izzy's bike (her bike now really, Izzy never needed it) and invade the kitchen for supper.

"Your kid is eating my leftovers," Eddy would inform him tartly when he got off a late shift.

"Uh huh," Izzy would laugh at her. "And you could've stopped her at literally any point."

"She was hungry," Eddy would grumble.

Read would make it up to them in the morning, weeding down rows of flowers tirelessly at Eddy's side. Izzy would watch them idly from the porch, Lucius sometimes there too, feet in Izzy's lap. The world was a strange and wonderful place some days.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #you're awful i love you #au of the au #izzy hands #mary read #eddy teach bonnet

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umichenginabroad · 1 year

Text

Burn it. Did I say stand there and look stupid? No. I said BURN IT.

* for everyone that doesn’t know what the title is, its a tiktok haha

Las Fallas. Ridiculous. Actually had no idea what to expect and was not prepared at all. I'll try to set the scene:

For some context, Las Fallas is a festival in Valencia on the last Sunday in February to commemorate Saint Joseph. It is a week-long event to celebrate each neighborhood's year-long work of making a construction called a 'falla,' which consists of several 'ninots' (a Valencian word for puppets). On the last Sunday of February, 'La Crema' occurs, where each of these fallas are burned. A year's worth of work burned!! I learned about the event in my Spanish culture class and was hyped up by a bunch of Spaniards who apparently all love to go to Valencia during this time.

I also booked this trip two days before on a whim. It was organized with this event planning group that partners with the school and was 40 euros for the bus ride there and back.

Storytime:

We leave the buses at 9 am and get off at 1:30 pm. The drivers announce that La Mascleta is happening at 2. We don't know what that is. But it's a 20 min walk. And so we should run. By the way, I've just woken up, so I'm very disoriented already. We are speedwalking to this plaza when we finally run into the crowd. The clock hits 2. We are around the corner from the plaza and can't fully see it. Then the loudest 'boom' sounds start going off, and smoke starts filling the air.

Anyways, we found out this celebration called 'La Mascleta' happens every day during Las Fallas at 2 pm, where they set off fireworks and smoke at the town hall plaza. Look up pictures- it's ridiculous.

After La Mascleta, we get breakfast and start walking around the city, looking at the beautiful fallas every few blocks. The detail in these sculptures is just incredible, and many of them are satirical in nature as well.

We head next to the parade. We are lined up on the street, waiting around the corner of the start. A small drum line emerges, and we are a bit underwhelmed, thinking, 'this is it?'. Then we hear what sounds like an ambulance. People start running around the corner in devil costumes with fireworks strapped to their heads, moving in a circular motion and spraying into the crowd. Honestly, I have no idea how this was legal or safe, but it was crazy.

I would describe the burnings of a couple of other fallas, but the one you need to hear about is the 'Big Falla':

Finally, the Big Falla. We are in the plaza across from the falla, and the clock hits 11. For a second time paused, and it didn't seem like the celebration was starting. Then an incredible fireworks display started, and we knew the time was coming. After one of the best fireworks shows I've seen in a while, everything goes dark. Then the fireworks spark around the Big Falla, and the crowd goes CRAZY. The Big Falla lights up with fire. It was kind of scary how suddenly the fire began and how ridiculously big it was. I could literally feel the heat standing so far away, so I couldn't imagine how hot it must have been for the people in the front.

After the fire ended and the firefighters doused it, people started singing the anthem and celebrating. We pushed our way out of the crowd and headed back to our buses after a quick pit stop at Mcdonald's.

Of course, 450 kids after 12 hours of celebrating was not going to be organized, and we barely made it on our bus after everyone mobbed them. We left around 2 am and got back at 6:30 after a long ride of someone snoring behind me and the AC blasting at full strength.

I've never experienced as much chaos in a short amount of time. It feels like a fever dream, and I still need to sleep some off, but wow. What an experience.

See you next week with Rania 2.0 (aka Priya, my sister, haha) and me in Granada and Sevilla!

Rania Uppal

Computer Science

UP Comillas - Madrid Spain

#ipemadrid #umichenginabroad #raniauppal #ipewinter23

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

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scorpiobitch95 · 3 years

Text

I Need You to Hold Me

Summary: You are comforted during a panic/anxiety attack by your loving man.

Pairing: Syverson x Female Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Description of anxiety attack, racing thoughts, mental health struggles.

A/N: Writing this was my therapeutic way to deal with how I've been feeling the last few weeks. Anxiety sucks, man, but realizing you have so much good to relish in is extremely important. Straight from my heart... I hope you enjoy. 🖤

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!

•

I Need You to Hold Me

Attacks like this were sporadic these days. Much of the credit was due to the large sleeping form beside you who helped to keep those racing thoughts away.

Tonight, however, your demons were back to visit.

Sy always knew when you were spiraling again; he was very observant and could see the signs coming from miles away: your energy was drained, your fun and goofy mood was replaced with reserved quietness, and your responses turned curt and sharp. He had tried his best all day to softly lift you out of it, but you were undeniably slipping under.

Your mind had spent the day whirring and over-analyzing everything it could touch; you were imprisoned by your inner world. An explanation was lost as to why it affected so heavily you some days and why other days it was completely nonexistent. The build-up to this moment had been brewing under the surface since you'd awoken. You'd barely held your composure through the evening, though luckily Sy had worked late so you hadn't had to try and hide for too long.

Even though you knew that he was aware of your feelings, you wanted to try and spare him as much as possible. You'd opted for an early bed time, tucking yourself away from the world. He let you, not pushing you to share, knowing sometimes that was all you could do to cope. He kissed and hugged you goodnight and proceeded to shut down the house for the evening.

Lying wide awake in the stillness of the night, you were trying not to shake the bed or awaken your husband as your body began to react uncontrollably to the scenes that played in your head.

It all began to hit you, wave after wave, failure after failure. Every fear was pictured clear as day when you closed your eyes. All of those tools and logic you normally could use to rationalize… all of that inner work was cowering behind the dancing ghouls of your darkness. Warm tears blazed their way down your cheeks as your sinuses began to burn red hot. You looked over at your husband, snoring lightly beside you, tears pouring faster.

Sy was, without a doubt, the most caring and doting man. The Captain had been hard at work reconstructing parts of your home for your major renovation. You didn’t want to wake him; he needed to sleep, despite how much he swore that he did not. He’d been so tired lately but was ecstatic about giving the two of you your dream home. He was the best husband: Always doing whatever he could to take care of you and finding things to make you smile.

Guilt gripped you.

Guilt for worrying about these terrors in your head. Guilt for not being able to bypass the bad to relish only in the good. Guilt because you had so many facets of your life to be thankful for, including the incredible man who put his all into taking care of you, but tonight, those things were hard to hold onto. Why these thoughts were pummeling your headspace tonight, you couldn't explain.

You felt the shattering approaching like a steam engine, powering ahead with no way to put on the brakes. A quiet sob erupted through your lips, and you fought to silence yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. A small cry left your squeezing chest as you heaved for air, your body involuntarily lifting off the bed for a short moment. Your sobs began coming quicker, and you pulled your blanket up over your shoulders and hugged yourself, seeking self-comfort as you began to lose control.

You turned over to the outside of the bed so that you wouldn’t wake him. The tears were hot now, pouring continuously down your cheeks. Your body started to shake and the sobs rolled out of your body faster. You struggled to not jostle Sy, but you felt him roll to his side to get close to you.

Softly, a large muscled arm made its way across your tummy and pulled you into his warm body, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your middle.

“Shhh, Sugar. What is it, baby?” His voice was deep and groggy with sleep. He pressed his lips to your temple and started gently kissing your hair as he tightened his grip on your shaking body. Your arms wrapped around his as you lost your control and turned into his chest.

“It feels too heavy,” you choked out between sucking in breaths.

He was suddenly very alert. “Whatcha need? Tell me what I can do, Darlin’.”

“I need you to hold me, Sy. Please, I just need to feel you.”

The two of you melted into each other, and Sy held gripped you with a gentleness but also with the strength of an iron gate as you broke apart in his arms.

Guilt. Fear. Inadequacies. They all attacked your senses as you released everything that had been trapped inside.

How can he love you when you put him through this?

“I… don’t… deserve you,” you breathed out through your hyperventilations, your tears dampening the hair on his chest.

“Yes, yes you do, Sugar. Shh, I gotcha.” His body gently rocked yours as he softly rubbed a hand up and down your back. “Breathe, babe. Focus on your breath, you’ve got this.” The vibrations coming from his chest soothed yours as you both laid skin to skin, as close as you could possibly be.

Minutes passed. Maybe even hours. Focusing on steadying your breath while his hands roamed over your back, you slowly started to regain control over yourself, the sobs becoming fewer and fewer.

“Sy?” You sniffled and hugged even closer to him.

“Yea?”

“Will you lay on me?”

“Sure thing, Darlin’.” Sy carefully laid you on your back and moved himself over you, snaking his arms around your middle and placing his thick thighs in between both of yours, letting you wrap your legs around his back. His body laid across you and his head was nestled between your breasts. The weight of him pressed into you and helped to ground you in this moment. He’d done this countless times before tonight, holding you down to help you come back into yourself.

Your breath slowed and your tears subsided as you kissed the top of his head and softly touched his broad back, relishing in his warm smooth skin. Sy pressed soft kisses on your chest, reassuring you of his presence. “Breathe with me, Sugar.” You began to take big breaths to match his and eventually, your eyelids became heavy, fighting sleep. His warm scruffy cheek felt soothing against your breasts.

“Baby, I’m sorry... I —,” you barely could speak before he interrupted you.

“No, no apologizing. My vow was to take care of ya, and I’m going to do it every single day. Lord knows you do your fair share of takin’ care of me at my worst. Don't wait so long next time, okay?”

Quiet tears filled your eyes and fell again at his words.

“Thank you, Sy. I love you,” you breathed quietly. Your bodies moved as one whole with every breath taken, moving calmly up and down.

The last words Sy whispered before you dozed off vibrated through your entire being, covering your entire soul in warmth.

“Mmm.. I’ve gotcha, baby. I’ve always gotcha. I love you with my whole heart, Sugar.”

•

I do not own Captain Syverson, Sandcastle, or anything related to it.

Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69

#captain syverson fic #syverson #henry cavill #captain syverson #henry cavill fanfic #syverson x you #anxiety #fluff #angst #sandcastle #syverson fluff

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samwilsondiaries · 3 years

Text

; welcome home

PART I — PART II (soon)

sam wilson x fem!reader. masterlist.

summary. sam comes back home after being a week in europe, not replying to your calls or text messages.

words. ± 1.3k.

warnings, tags. after tfatws 1x04!reader insert, more or less. nsfw, +18!!! nothing really smutty, just a few touches and language.

a / n: none of my stories contain reader's body descriptions to be inclusive.

You couldn't help but feel worried after what you watched on the news. Sam left almost a week ago, asking you to stay with Sarah in Louisiana until he was back, only wanting to protect you. In the hospital, your boss gave you a sabbatical month, after collecting too many personal days. But being locked in Delacroix was eating you alive, carrying your phone wherever you used to go, waiting for a call or a message from your boyfriend that never came.

Helping your sister-in-law to extend the fishing net all over the floor to clean it from algae and trash, you weren't able to ignore it and to not check your notifications again. Nothing more than some emails and posts on your social media. Sarah puckered her lips disappointed for how his brother was behaving when she watched you sighing. She knew his ass was in big trouble, that was for sure. At least, help her with the family business kept your mind occupied the whole day, and it wasn't too bad to spend time with your nieces. They adored you and you used to have so much fun.

“I'm gonna put the boys to sleep”. Sarah informed you, coming into the kitchen while you were finishing your second glass of red wine. “You okay? Has he replied?”

“Nope”. You mumbled, taking another sip.

“He'll be okay”.

You knew it. Sam could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you were aware of how hard he was. Your sister-in-law gave you a tight hug and left a kiss on your cheek before going upstairs to finish her day with some good sleep. She deserved it after too much work. On the contrary, you stayed there sitting at the dinner table, spinning your glass as if it could make it fill up by itself magically. Like every night, you used to wait an hour before heading to Sam's old room and try to sleep for a couple of hours, mostly waking up every thirty minutes to check your phone again. You weren't understanding why he hadn't replied to any of your texts, at least, with an emoji.

“Baby…”

The whisper dragged you back to reality with just one push, abruptly turning on your chair to the back door in the kitchen. Sam was there, standing in silence with a hand rested on the knob. He didn't seem hurt in any way, but he knew you probably would give him a silent treatment until he compensated you enough. Pressing your lips together and frowning, hiding how much you desired to hug him, kiss him and tell him how much you had missed him, you turned again to face your glass of wine.

Behind your position, you heard him heavily sighing while closing the door. His steps came closer, taking a seat on the chair next to yours. A shiver ran down your backbone when his right knee touched slightly yours, putting your head to the opposite side of his. Sam was conscious that telling you he was too occupied to use his phone only would make it worse, stretching his hand above the table to hold your free one. He was aware of what a simple touch from him could cause on you, taking it in advantage as you sniffed back your frustrated want to cry and yell at him.

“I've misse—”.

“Fuck that, Samuel. And fuck you”. Interrupting him with such a painful hiss, you stood up to empty the glass in one gulp, walking towards the sink to leave it inside.

After what happened with the blip, the minimal thought of losing him generated you a kind of anxiety that suffocated you till making you pass out. Five years. You had been looking for your soulmate for five years. You waited for him, even praying to God to bring him back to you. And when he did, he promised you to never leave again. A week without a single report from him wasn't exactly a way to keep it.

You supported part of your weight against the counter, with both of your hands tightly gripping the edge of it, bowing your head down. Sam pressed his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue, not being sure of what to do. He knew he screwed what he pact with you, even if it wasn't his intention. Believing that it was better if there wasn't any more distance between the two of you, he got up from his chair to reach you in two strides. Your boyfriend urged you to turn around and face him, but you tilted away your head not wanting to look at him.

Crossing both arms on your chest to let him know with your posture that you were more sad than angry, Sam placed his hands on the sides of your neck, cleaning a wild tear running down your cheek by using his thumb.

“You're the only thing in my mind when we're not together”. He guaranteed you, looking for your reddened eyes. “I'm sorry. I truly am… Look at me, please, baby”.

“I saw it on the news, Samuel. I saw what that Captain America did. And you were there, standing next to James. Don't ask me to not be worried”. You spoke then with so much rage still stuck in your throat.

“We will talk about it tomorrow, I promis—”.

“You promise. That's what you said the last time and look at my phone. Nothing. Nothing from you in days”. You reproached him, clicking your tongue and interrupting him again.

“Then, I don't promise. I assure you I'll answer any question you have tomorrow”. His orbs stayed in place, not moving a single minimal inch from yours.

You didn't reply. No word came from your mouth. Mouth that he didn't hesitate to bring to his. Sam only gave you an ephemeral kiss, causing you to close your eyes just like him. A sneak peek of what was about to happen. It was no more than a second when you were devouring each other's lips. Desperate, eagerly. His tongue soon invaded your cavity, drinking the sweet moan you couldn't retain as his left hand went straight down your ass. He squeezed it making you slightly lean upon your bare tiptoes, as he made his way to between your legs.

The heat started to strangle you when he slid his free hand under your shirt to grip it around one of your boobs, freeing it from your bra. Your tongue continued fighting his, not caring about the lack of air within your lungs, as you rocked your needed core against the lump growing beneath the rough fabric of his jeans. Sam grunted against your lips, wishing for an instant to be in your kitchen and not in his sister's, so he could simply rip off your clothes and fuck like two animals in heat. He needed to control himself, but he just simply couldn't, hearing your lower pleasing vocals.

“No, no, no, please, Sam...” You sobbed in a whisper, tangling your fingers in his shirt when he tried to take a step back.

“Shit, baby girl… You drive me insane”. He uttered into your ear as your mouth landed on his neck. Kissing, biting, and pulling up his skin between your teeth.

Sam's hands pawed your body strongly, pressing your body against the counter to make you feel what you caused on him. Having to take care of not being heard or caught on action just turned him on high-sky, but he was conscious that it wouldn't be a good scene for his nieces.

“C'mon… lemme take you to my room”. He asked you, finally settling some distance barely breathing, holding your hand to quickly guide you upstairs.

a / n: thank you for reading! if you liked it, please, leave a comment and reblog it, i'd really appreciate it.

tag list: @whoreforsamwilson @naboo-nights @natashadeservedbetter @lazypeachsoul @phoenixhalliwell @wanniiieeee @morganayenneferburnham @puthyprincess @superhoeva @edencherries @fookinsuckmecockmate @peterssweetpea @pixieyosi @marvel-diaries @bionicbarnes @jamiereads @missroro @loudbluepancake @iinvisiblewings @strawb3rrydr3ss @mariahthelioness29 @tlcwrites @shizzybarnaclee @teti-menchon0604 @reichelhache @mack-jay @harami-mami

you can add yourself to my tag list in the link you'll find in the masterlist.

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larkace · 3 years

Text

Robber Claws

hi guys! i've read a bunch of your fics and got inspired so i wrote a thing! enjoy ;) also, it's pretty long so...buckle up! love yall <3

The criminals lurk in the mist, invisible, but Sofiya Pavlichenkov knows they’re there.

She’s perched in the Lookout’s nest of her Warship in Fourth Harbour, pretending to read the documents her first mate, Kastor, has just handed to her. But her blue coat is flapping in the wind and her papers keep jostling and she’s being watched, all of which is rather uncomfortable.

Idly, Sofiya wonders what the criminals might want. A smuggling, perhaps? Out and away from stinking, crawling, loathsome Ketterdam?

Sofiya hates this city. His city. She misses Ravka, her homeland- the Little Palace.

I miss my bloody Kefta, Sofiya thinks darkly as another bought of wind spirals harshly through the Harbour. The blue coat she wears is a subtle nod to her Tidemaker status, but it’s a sad, thin piece of cloth compared to the grandeur of the Fabrikator-made Keftas. But Sofiya can’t wear her Kefta, not if she wants to blend in in Kerch- a lesson she learned long ago…

Old enemies, Sofiya. Old enemies, but not withered grudges.

Huffing out a sigh that would make Zoya Nazyalensky proud, Sofiya rises gracefully to her feet.

They’re coming. She can feel it; they’re making their way towards the ship. They don’t have to be rowdy to intimidate, that’s for sure - or to make a crowd of Merchants and Thieves part like the sea almost immediately.

Sofiya reaches up behind her head and loops her hand around a piece of knotted rope; takes a deep, steadying breath.

And she steps off the platform into the open air.

For a moment, she catches on the air as if a Squaller has caught her on a buffering breeze, but sure enough, gravity kicks in.

Sofiya welcomes the feeling of her stomach in her throat as the fall takes hold, zipping her past the sails. It's good preparation, anyway, for the three dark figures moving up the docks towards her.

As they near and Sofiya lands lightly on the deck, she confirms what she already knew: these were criminals. Her criminals.

The trio stops in front of her. They're all wearing black and gold - not a uniform exactly, but it’s a solid way to show your allegiance. None of their hands were visible, but if they were, Sofiya would find the Robber Claws emblem branded cleanly onto the backs of their knuckles. Their hoods are drawn up over their faces, but Sofiya can tell from their posture who she’s dealing with.

"Ah, Iseut," Sofiya says serenely, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The girl in the middle pulls down her hood, revealing shining blond hair, dark eyes, full lips. She doesn’t smile.

"Where have you been, Sofiya?" Iseut asks coolly.

"The Wandering Isle," Sofiya answers immediately, "I stopped at Os Kervo on my return to pick up some supplies. I'm only three days late, Is. Cut me some slack."

Iseut sighs, and suddenly looks less the badass, fake-waitress man-killer, and more the tired mother of a delinquent child. Sofiya feels a flicker of guilt.

She had stopped at Os Kervo for more than one reason. The "supplies" were crates upon crates of commandeered Fjerdan weapons and traps, intercepted by the First Army on their way to the Front Line. Sofiya had paid nothing to take them off the hands of the Ravkan soldiers, who honestly had no clue where to send them. What good were jerky Fjerdan guns to a sophisticated, well-oiled Second Army legion?

Sofiya could picture Zoya's face at the sight of the sad little weapons. Disgust and disdain, unshakable beauty - and perhaps just a little bit of pride that her friend had been the one to collect the Fjerdan cargo. Sofiya would work on selling it all later. She'd dump the Grisha traps in the ocean, though. Drown them like they deserved to be drowned.

"I am sorry, Iseut," Sofiya says, and her words aren’t mistruths.

"Don't apologise to me," Iseut says dismissively, "It’s your friends that were barely able to sleep the past few nights. You should talk to -"

"Destry," Sofiya's words mist the air like a fine rain, "I know."

One of the tall figures stood behind Iseut lowers her own hood. Lyra. Ly.

It made sense that the Robber Claws would send their best Bruisers to Fourth Harbour. Sofiya knew by the other Robber's posture that beneath the hood, she would find the face of Winter. But Winter wouldn't lower her hood in front of so many people, so Sofiya was content with what she could get.

"You really had Destry worried, Sof," Ly says, chastising.

"Destry can handle me being gone for weeks on end," Sofiya crosses her arms. She will not be guilt-tripped, "This job was half a week, and I was only a few days off schedule. I did tell Cherry that I'd be late." The words come out as a question.

None of them say anything.

Another flash of worry courses through Sofiya. Cherry Vlasova is a Heartrender, and one of Sofiya's closest friends. The message that Sofiya had forwarded was simple and concise: I'll be a few days late. Stopping at Os Kervo. Don't worry, no Fjerdans. Tell Destry -S.P

Had something happened to Cherry? She was an avid gossiper; her post box was always full of tip-offs (a useful source of information for the Robber Claws) but Sofiya was reliably informed that her letters were always placed on the top of the pile. Marked "URGENT."

"What happened? Is Cherry alright?" Sofiya demands.

Iseut holds up her palms, and they are callused and grease-marked. Sometimes Iseut is so well put together that Sofiya forgets she's a barmaid.

"Cherry is fine. But all our Grisha are shaken. Whilst you were away, there was an attack on the East Stave."

Sofiya's heart stops and restarts and stops again.

An attack. On the Grisha. And she wasn’t there to - to help, to defend-

"Destry," Sofiya breathes, "And Cherry - and Adali, Roza, Linnea, Yan, Anya- oh, Saints, was it the Fjerdans?"

There are many Grisha members of the Robber Claws. It was one of the reasons that Sofiya wanted to join them in the first place. If the Fjerdans had attacked -

"Everybody is fine," Ly says lowly, "We had Freya and May fixing people up as soon as we heard- and Lita, of course, but behind the scenes."

Freya and May- and even Lita, whose powers most of the gang didn't even know of. Grisha Healers. So people had been hurt.

"What. Happened." Sofiya growls, and Ly glares at her challengingly, fists clenching. The water beneath the decking froths and bubbles as Sofiya brings her own fists together, power surging pleasantly up her arms. If Ly wants a fight, she can have one.

"Calm down, both of you," Winter's smooth voice projects from under her hood. Despite the heavy fabric, her voice is clear and commanding. Sofiya takes a breath to compose herself.

"To answer your previous question: no. It wasn't the Fjerdans." Iseut says, "We don’t know what they were."

Sofiya's brow creases at the chime of fear in Iseut's voice. She's never seen the golden-haired barmaid afraid before.

It begins to rain softly, the pattering of droplets quiet against the wooden decking of the docks.

"We should go back to the Queen’s Head, Iseut," Ly suggests, referencing Iseut’s place of work. Iseut nods once, swiftly, and glances over Sofiya's shoulder at her warship.

"Do you need to...?"

"Yes."

"Go on, then."

"KASTOR! IM GOING FOR A ROUND OF DAY-DRINKING!" Sofiya yells over the shoulder of her rain-splattered coat. She hears Ly chuckle as Kastor's scruffy head pokes out from a window.

He nods at Sofiya when he spots her, and she waves, assenting. Kastor would keep everything safe whilst she was gone. It was their unspoken agreement, unchanging and unwavering since the day they'd become crewmates.

Sofiya turns back to Iseut, Ly and Winter.

"Let's be on our way," she says, and lets her fellow criminals lead the way along the Harbour, her warship disappearing into the mist behind her.

~~~~

The mid-day slump of customers meant that the Robber Claws had the Queen’s Head pub all to themselves.

Iseut- who did not own the pub, but had put more work into it than the real owners ever did- had immediately trekked behind the bar and poured herself a whisky.

"Want anything?" She asks, directing the question directly at Sofiya despite the equal presence of Ly- and Winter (who had lowered her hood slightly now that she was back on familiar ground, with familiar faces.) Bruisers didn’t drink on the job. It slowed reflexes.

"The story," says Sofiya firmly, "It a joke about the day-drinking. What happened?"

Iseut pours herself another whiskey and the quartet take a seat at a shady little circular table in a quiet corner. The murmurs of other Robber Claws members is enough to shelter their conversation from the group- despite Sofiya being sure she was the only one unaware of what had transpired the days she’d been gone.

As Iseut begins her story, with Winter and Ly regularly interjecting with additions, Sofiya feels horror and fear clamp down on her heart like a Fjerdan Grisha trap.

Iseut’s alluring voice weaves a tale of Komedie Brute actors in bloody masks, rose-painted rubble from an impossible explosion, and worst of all: Grisha. Dead Grisha, killed by creatures with screeching metal wings.

“Only a few of our Grisha were hurt,” Iseut sips her drink solemnly, “We took your advice of keeping them anonymous and undercover. We have Erin and our other spies out searching for answers at the embassies. I’m sure you’re just as eager to find out about the winged creatures as we are.”

Sofiya nods, “I am. Thank you for filling me in, Is, really. And to you, Ly, Winter. I know you don’t like going to far from the West Stave.”

The last comment was directed purely at Winter. It’s not a lie. Winter runs a dojo for training Kerch’s women to protect themselves from Barrel bosses and scum alike; she didn’t want her clients finding out about her… Robber side. Being a criminal wasn’t the most unintimidating, friendly persona to have when speaking with vulnerable women.

Sofiya respected Winter and her clean profession. It was hard to be so kind in the Barrel. And men were rarely kind to women at all.

Sofiya knew that first hand.

Shoving away the memories- blue eyes, dark hair, gorgeous smile, charming words and sharper wounds- Sofiya stands in one fluid movement.

“I’m going to find Destry,” she says. Iseut stands, Ly and Winter falling back to flank her again, and smiles. She’s beautiful, that is undoubtful, but the attacks- the sleazy men at the Queen’s Head, the strain of the city- it’s all gotten to her. Sofiya can see it.

This city is poison, thinks Sofiya as Iseut takes her hand and shakes it. Poison and rot.

“Destry will be in her rooms,” Ly supplies, and Sofiya nods at her once.

Sofiya grins brightly, hoping it covers her own weariness, and recites, “Fair winds.”

“Bright stars,” chorus her friends. Sofiya waves over her shoulder as she slips out of the bar and down an alley. Above her, a storm brews in the clouds.

Perhaps the stars would be out that night. It didn’t matter. Nobody in Kerch saw the stars anymore.

~~~~

On her way to Destry’s apartments, Sofiya ran into more members of the Robber Claws.

Malcolm and Firefly, who lived together in shared housing in the Anvil, were shopping for new blacksmiths’ equipment. They each provided invaluable services to the Robber Claws, crafting flawless weapons second only to that of Fabrikators. They greeted her with a wink each. Sofiya moved on swiftly after trading them a Wandering Isle-crafted staff for twenty Kruge.

She picked up some baked goods on the way. She would need them. Destry- who had been her closest friend since she arrived in Kerch- was an Inferni. Fire-bringer; with an even fierier temperament. Rumour had it- and Sofiya knew the rumours were true- that Destry had been attending the University of Ketterdam when she’d heard a boy make a lude comment during an exam and lit the paper on fire with her mind. And that paper had been thrown. At the boy’s face. Ouch.

Sofiya had been nursing a whiskey in a tavern when she’d first heard the story recounted. She’d leapt up from her seat, slithered into an alley and held the recounter at knifepoint until he’d told her Destry’s name.

They’d become fast friends upon meeting. Sofiya had been in awe of someone so rebellious, so brave as to set fire to an exam paper, and Destry- well. Destry had laughed for hours when Sofiya had told her how she’d first come across her name.

But now, staring up at the ornate windows of Destry’s apartment, Sofiya feels unsure. She didn’t mean to worry her friend. Iseut had explained that her letter must have gotten lost during the riots. Sofiya cursed the post offices. So there was a deadly storm- your motto is still “We always deliver.”

Despite her trepidation, Sofiya’s feet were swift on the stairs. She had a key to the apartment, and didn’t hesitate to unlock the door and slip inside without a sound, content to watch Destry whilst she worked; even if only for a moment.

Leaning against the wall, Sofiya’s brow creases as she surveys her friend. Destry’s hair is plaited carefully into two loops at the nape of her neck, hazel strands freeing themselves gently against her light brown skin. She’s stood facing away from Sofiya, arms circled in rings of fire. The shirt she wears is Fabrikator-made; the flames don’t take to the papery material.

Sofiya takes a step forward, and pointedly drops her bag of confectionary on the floor. It lands with an audible thump.

Destry whirls, the fire at her wrists whirling into an inferno ready to strike- until Destry sees who is at her door.

“Shouldn’t have hesitated, Des,” Sofiya said weakly, “I could have put a knife in your back.”

The shock on Destry’s face dissolves. Her face splinters down the middle. Licks of fire at her fingertips wilt into ash in a pile at her boot-clad feet.

“You would have put out the flames with your water, I’m sure,” Destry says, and then flies across the room towards Sofiya, wrapping her in a tight, smoke-smelling embrace.

Sofiya would normally pull back. “Don’t be too open with your heart, Des,” she’d say, “People use your loves against you here.” But Sofiya couldn’t bring herself to say those things. The weight of the week comes crashing down on her head like a tsunami.

Fjerdan traps on my boat, attacks on my gang, tensions in Ravka boiling over… where’s safe anymore, except here?

Destry pulls back slightly to scan Sofiya’s face. She has a smear of oil on her cheek. Destry’s eyes are filled with fire, burning like an ember beneath onyx waters.

“Where. Have. You. Been.”

“Destry-”

“Don’t you make excuses with me, Pavlichenkov,” Destry snarls, “You didn’t warn us you were late! I couldn’t sleep- neither could Cherry!”

“I-”

“We thought you’d been caught, Sofi,” Destry cries, “We thought the Fjerdans had got you! I thought you died.”

The word is ugly and big in the room, choking Sofiya’s response. Death. Dying. Dead. And by Fjerdan hands. It wasn’t so rare for travelling Grisha to be caught and sent to the pyres.

“I’m sorry,” Sofiya says, because it’s the only thing there is, “I wrote- I really did, don’t look at me like that- according to Lyra, there was a storm in the True Sea. The letter sunk with the ship.”

“You’re a Tidemaker,” Destry huffs.

“Yes, which means I manipulate water,” Sofiya says, “Not stop it from overturning ships with important letters on them. Destry, I’m sorry. I brought waffles.” She offers the last sentence like a defendant on trial with the Stadwatch; one final piece of evidence to prove her innocence.

Destry brightens immediately, “Well, in that case.”

The pair of them set to work, shoulders just brushing in the cramped kitchenette. Sofiya’s array of pasties are laid out over two plates, which they lay on their laps. Destry’s job for the Robber Claws is, in few words, that of the logician. Papers are scattered all over her apartment, covered in detailed blueprints and scale drawings of buildings all over Ketterdam, Fjerda and even- rarely- Shu Han. There were no drawings of Ravka.

If Iseut had ever commissioned a robbery in Ravka, Sofiya didn’t know about it. It would be…unwise to hit out at the Ravkans, with so many Grisha in the gang.

But Destry’s job was essential, so Sofiya couldn’t complain about the lack of trays to put their plates on. Such things were useless for such an incredible mind as Destry’s.

“So,” says Destry conversationally as she lights the fireplace with a casual flick of her wrist, “How were the Wandering Isles?”

Sofiya says nothing, massaging her temples lightly. Destry manages a laugh.

“Your silence is telling, Sofi,” she warns.

Sighing quietly, suddenly feeling very tired, Sofiya says, “It was crawling with our Fjerdan friends from the North. ‘Peaceful’ Fjerdans.”

Destry spins, and she is outlined with the fire. We’re opposites, Sofiya thinks. Fire and Water.

“You didn’t-” Destry begins, horrified.

Silently, solemnly, Sofiya raised her palms to face the ceiling. Destry reaches out.

Her gentle fingers trace the scars there. Deep and painful and barely healed, the scars run red against Sofiya’s pale flesh.

“Sofiya…” Destry breathes.

“It was the only way to push my power down,” Sofiya whispers. She’s rarely so emotive, but Destry is someone she trusts with everything. It was a weakness, some would say, but they were each powerful Grisha. They were Gods in a world of men. And they would not kneel “If I hadn’t, I would’ve been caught. It was a price to pay.”

Grisha shone like lighthouses around people. In Kerch, in Ketterdam, it was safer for them- especially ones loyal to a gang, as Destry and Sofiya were. But in the Wandering Isles; where Fjerdans passed through on their way to Novyi Zem, where gang affiliations mattered less than the colour of your eyes… Sofiya tells herself she had no choice.

“Sofiya, you’ve opened up old wounds here,” Destry says, tracing the marred skin of her palms again, “You need a healer. Freya, Lita, May-”

“Wouldn’t understand,” Sofiya finished, pulling her hands out of Destry’s and placing them carefully in her lap, obscuring them with her coat, “They’re healers, Des, not warriors- they’d go to Iseut.”

Iseut. Their unofficial leader, the founder, the lighthouse in raging seas. All of the Robber Claws seemed to be caught in her gravity. She was their sun. And Sofiya… well, Sofiya was the moon. Iseut would send her to a healer, one who would stop her travels. One who would commandeer her Warship, and Kastor… health of the mind was important to Iseut.

But Sofiya was not damaged, as they would tell her. She was not broken. Her mind was sound.

I did what I had to do, to survive.

But Destry can see through it all. Through the mask, through her eyes, right to her bones. Through to her lying, treacherous heart. We’re all broken in the end.

But.

Oh, Destry, Destry, please…

“I won’t tell her,” Destry promises, “But I’d like you to know that I think you should. Tell her, that is- Iseut. She might help.”

“She might ship me back to Ravka,” Sofiya grumbles, biting into a toasty croissant.

“Oh, she wouldn’t.”

“You never know.”

“She’ll want you to heal, that’s all.”

“Yes,” Sofiya rolls her eyes, “But these wounds are of the flesh. The scars on my heart will never heal, not in this life Perhaps there will be mercy in the next, even for my rotten soul.”

“You sound like you’re auditioning for the Komedie Brute,” Destry laughs.

“Mother, Father, pay the rent!” Sofiya crows.

“I can’t my dear, the money’s spent,” Destry choruses instinctively.

Sofiya wipes away an invisible tear, “Gorgeous! We’ll make an actress out of you, yet, Destry Clements.”

“Oh, you most certainly will not,” Destry huffs.

Their laughter fills the air, and Sofiya thinks that maybe there is hope for her rotten soul, after all.

~~~~

The man returns late from the pub wearing only one shoe.

A bottle drained halfway of mauve liquid dangles limply from his pale fingers. The veins in his foot are blue in the half-moon’s light.

He slurs a broken melody. She catches a few words as he passes below her on the street.

“Hmm… perish… light… air… fire… hell… hmmm…”

The man’s name is Danyl Harrop. And he is going to die tonight.

“Hmm… shadow… devil… rot… earth… sun… burn… lose….”

Harrop continues down the road, heedless of the mud on his bare foot. He'd be blackout drunk in the morning if he survived.

He wouldn’t.

Silent as a breeze, steps as soft as downy feathers, she leaps from the streetlight where she was perched.

She strikes.

She is ash and shadow. She is a storm of fire. She is vengeance.

She is death.

Harrop yelps as she pins him against the tree. His face is as white as the moon, with eyes like black craters.

“What’re you doi-” he slurs dazedly, but she silences him with a wave of her hand. He blubbers like a fish on land as he tries to shout for help.

“For King and Country,” says the girl. Stepping away from Harrop, she lets her power hold him against the tree, keeping his muscles upright. She surveys him like an artist would their unfinished masterpiece.

The girl whispers, “Sleep tight, Danyl.”

Flicking her wrist, she snaps his neck. He’s still alive, barely, so she latches on to what little of his mind there is left and strips it like an onion. For a man who is out so late, so drunk, on what the girl remembers as a work-day, he knows too much.

Secrets. They feed this girl, nourish her. There is a skip in her step as she turns away from Harrop; without her supporting his muscles, he collapses against the tree. She leaves his mind just as it goes dark.

There is no need to hide in the treetops upon her return to the city. It gleams just half a mile away, most of which is roiling seawater. As the girl wanders along the road back to Ketterdam, she finds Danyl Harrop’s shoe in a puddle of mud. The girl laughs at the sky. She flips a coin into the shoe, whispers a heartless prayer to her Saints, and moves on.

Back to Ketterdam. Back home.

~~~~

Ok, so that's that! I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger... I may have created a whole plot... so there might be some more coming soon!

all these excellent characters (save Sofiya, Danyl, Kastor and the girl at the end who kills Danyl- who has no name... yet *wink*) belong to the following:

Iseut is @littlegirldorothea's

Destry is @finnick-annie's (I may have made them besties👀👀)

Cherry is @brekkercookie's (they are ALSO besties👀👀 we have a trio omg)

Winter is @cressjacquine's

Lyra is @no-mourners-at-my-funeral's

Malcom is @blackpheonix’s

Firefly is @ask-shadowbon’s

Erin is @lightningboytytonjesper’s

Adali is @apple-bottom-jeansx’s

Roza is @vampire-rights’s

Linnea is @alonlyfangirl's

Yan is @lucentcorrigan’s

Anya is @queenlilith43’s

Freya is @smol-evil-gremlin’s

Lita is @the-whispers-of-moonlight’s

May is @saltyfortunes

and the "Fair winds, bright stars" motto as created by @spicy-tomato-sauce's

oh and the whole Grishaverse is the wonderful @lbardugo's <3

if I missed anyone or you want to tag anyone go ahead!

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iceslushii · 3 years

Note

So, I'm writing this to document what I can only assume is my sudden descent into insanity. I can't possibly be THAT bad a navigator, and yet as I write this I've been trapped in Ikea for 2 days. I haven't seen another person in the entire time I've been here. I thought it was a prank at first. Turn the place into a maze, get all the people out and see how long it takes me to get lost, then everyone has a good old laugh. Realised that wasn't the case when I tried to backtrack. Everything had changed, so I ended up lost. Instead of the exit, it was just row after row of bookcases.

So, I'm trapped in Ikea. Sounds like the setup for a bad joke. The lights went out at 10pm. Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack, that loud electrical THUNK sound and then pitch blackness. Place is full of beds though and my phone has a torch on it - but no damn signal - so I found a bed and went to sleep. Spent most of the next day trying to find my way out with no luck. Did find a restaurant serving those meatballs though, so at least I won't starve. That's probably the punchline to that joke. Anyway they were still warm and fresh, but I haven't seen anyone around who could have cooked them. Made my way back to the beds before the lights cut out again since it's too dark to search with them off.

It's 9.10am now, the lights came back on a little while ago. I'm sure I've searched the entire area around where I came in now and the exit obviously isn't here, so I'm going to pick a direction and hope for the best.

Day 3 of my magical Ikea mystery adventure. If I wasn't sure that there was something seriously weird about this place before, I am now. Walked for 3 hours in a more or less straight line (insert Ikea joke here) before I came across a ladder next to one of those huge stock shelves they have here. Climbed up to get my bearings, and it looks like this place just stretches on forever. Like that scene from the Lion King, except instead of trees and grass it was all shelves and tables and crap. I did see a person moving not too far away though, so I headed over.

Thought it was a staff member at first - it was wearing the uniform. And hell maybe it was, maybe freakish 7ft tall monsters with long arms, short legs and no faces are just the kinds of thing they want working at Super Ikea. Damn thing completely ignored me though, and with no eyes or ears I can't even be sure it knew I was there. Thought about shoving it or something to get its attention, but its hands were big enough to crush a water melon so I decided against it. It just kept moving along and eventually I lost sight of it so I decided to carry on the way I was going.

Anyway, no comfy bed for me tonight. Looks like I've entered the Improbably Hard and Pointy Table section of the store. Guess I'll have to make do with some bunched up tablecloths. Phone battery died during the day too. Didn't work anyway, but I feel like I've just lost some vital lifeline.

You ever see one of those cartoons where they're going through doors in a hallway and they just pop out of another door in the same hallway? That's how I feel right now. I've seen nothing but the same identical bookshelf for 2 days now. Just row after row after row of them. I mean, come on. I love books as much as the next guy, but this is excessive. I'm obviously still moving forwards though, I can see the signs hanging overhead passing by. Too bad none of them say "Exit".

Not sure who I was addressing that question to. Lets just say it was practice for the autobiography I'm going to write when I get out of here. I'll call it "My perfectly normal trip to a regular old Ikea".

If I ever get out o

Finally found some other people! Yeah, turns out I'm not the only poor bastard trapped in here. Lucky for me, I guess. My 6th night here, 2 of those staff things came at me in the dark. Different from the first one I saw, but still messed up. Heard them coming, they were saying that the store was closed and I had to leave the building, all nice and polite like. I'm not sure which part of that was weirder, that they don't have mouths or that they were apparently trying to kill me while they were saying it. Came at me like rabid dogs.

So, I legged it. Sprinting through ikea in the dark like a fucking madman. I saw it when I cleared another stand of those giant stock shelves, all lit up with torches and floodlights. They've built a whole town in here! Got a massive wall built out of shelves and beds and tables and whatever else. I swear to god it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Anyway I guess they saw me coming (or maybe they heard my girlish manly bellows of fear), because they had a gate open and 2 people were there waving me in. Heard the staff things slam into the gate behind me after it closed, still politely informing us all that the store was now closed. They wandered off eventually though.

They call the town Exchange, because that's whats on the sign hanging from the ceiling directly above it. Exchange and Returns. All lit up against the night using lights they've found and plugged into the power lines. And there are beds and food and people. Over 50 wonderful people with regular sized limbs and a full set of facial features. It's now my 7th night here, and the first one not spent in darkness. A full week living in Ikea. There's probably a TV show in that somewhere.

Now that I'm around other people, I'm starting to feel more normal. Maybe normal isn't the word. But after a week with only the sound of my own footsteps for company, I was becoming increasingly sure that I'd just gone nuts. That I was tied up in some padded room somewhere, banging my head against the wall. But no, I feel quite sane now, thank you very much!

Apparently there are other towns out there. Some with more people, some with less. I found that fairly mind-boggling - how can that many people go missing with no one noticing. Surely someone would have noticed that everyone who goes to ikea seems to fucking vanish. Or maybe it's not everyone. Maybe we're just the lucky ones.

The people here just call those staff monster things the Staff. Apparently they are fine during the day, minding their own business walking the aisles. As soon as those lights go out though, they go fucking bonkers. So during the day people go out to find food, water and whatever else they need. Apparently there are restaurants and shops around that randomly get restocked. No one knows how. Maybe the staff do it. Apparently they aren't very good at their jobs though because the restocking sometimes takes a while, which means the food needs to be rationed. Maybe if they weren't so busy chasing people around in the dark they'd get more done.

Anyway when night comes the staff go nuts and everyone holds up inside the walls. Apparently it's the same everywhere in this place, whatever this place is. The Ur-Ikea, from whence all other Ikeas sprang. Or maybe we're all still just in the regular ikea and this is all some fever dream brought on by mind-numbing boredom. Who knows.

Been here for 10 days now. Most of the people I asked said they stopped keeping track a long time ago and one guy, Chris, said he'd been in here for years.

Years.

[ILLEGIBLE SCRIBBLES]

Apparently there are rumours of people who do manage to get out. And of people who see the exit, only to have it vanish before their very eyes. I get the feeling not everyone believes that, but I do. Explains how we got stuck in here in the first place (sort of). And I mean, come on. Staff monsters, row after endless row of high quality Swedish furniture. I don't know why they would find a disappearing door so hard to believe in.

Anyway, I went out scavenging for food at a nearby shop with Sandra and Jerry today. Once you learn the landmarks of this place it's not so hard to navigate. The overhead signs help a lot, but there are others; not too far in the distance a huge section of those giant stock shelves has collapsed against each other and way off in the east (we all assume it's east anyway - apparently Ikea doesn't sell compasses) is some kind of tower that looks like its made of wood, reaches all the way to the ceiling. Maybe they were trying to break out through the roof. Lights up at night so there must be people there, but its apparently a few days walk (which means it must be miles away) so no one here really knows for sure. Apparently I got incredibly lucky sleeping out in the open for a week without getting ripped to bits by the staff. That's me. Lucky lucky lucky.

We found some food in the shop. Guess the staff restocked it during the night, which was nice of them. There was a telephone on the wall, so I figured I'd try it out. There was a voice on the other end, but they were just talking nonsense. Random words strung together with no real meaning. You ever see a video of someone with aphasia? Kind of sounded like that. Didn't answer me when I spoke to them anyway. Sandra says all the phones in here are the same.

Oops, asking the journal questions again!

I was thinking last night. The ceiling on this place is pretty high and as far as anyone can tell it goes on forever. Shouldn't there be some kind of weather in here? I'm sure I read about some NASA building that was so big it had its own weather patterns, with clouds and stuff. This place is definitely bigger than that, but now that I think about it I'm pretty sure I've never felt so much as a temperature change in here.

I'll add it to the Grand List of Weird Bullshit.

The staff attacked the Exchange last night. Must have been 20 or 30 of them all just asking us to leave the store calm as you like, while trying to smash the walls down with their bare hands. Apparently this happens pretty regularly, so everyone is prepared for it. Knives from the restaurants, lawn mower blades made into hatchets, a fire axe. One guy, Wasim, even made a functional crossbow. Anyway the walls have holes in them, which I hadn't noticed before, specifically so we can stab out at the staff when they attack. Took a couple of them down myself. They don't seem to bleed, which is weird, but they go down as easy as a regular person once you start sticking holes in them.

We had to haul the bodies away in the morning. Apparently the dead ones will attract more during the night, so we had to get them away from Exchange. We have a couple of those trolley things they use to move big boxes around, so we loaded them up and took them over to Pickup. Apparently people just name everything in here after whatever sign is hanging overhead.

Pickup was grisly. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of dead staff all piled up. There was no smell, which was a blessing. Apparently in addition to not bleeding, these things don't rot either. My curiosity got the better of me while we were unloading them, so I took a look at one of the more cut-up ones. They're just skin, or something that looks like skin, all the way through. No muscle, no bone, no organs. Are they even really alive in the first place? They certainly seem like they have bones when they are moving around, pounding on the walls. And I'm sure I felt more resistance than just skin when the knife went in during the night. Maybe something happens to them when they die. Just one more thing on the ever-increasing list of Weird Shit that goes on in here, I guess.

Something occurred to me, after the staff attack the other night. Every time you see a situation like this on TV or in a film, like its the end of the world or everyone is trapped on an island or whatever, once groups like ours start to form people always seem to turn on each other. Fighting for food or dominance or whatever else. That hasn't happened here. Apparently people from other towns come by from time to time, just to check in or occasionally to trade if they are short on something. But everything is always cordial. Friendly, even. Maybe its the threat of the staff, or perhaps the constant restocking of supplies in the shops means there's nothing much to fight over.

Maybe people are just better than they are generally given credit for. That's a nice thought. I think I'll go with that one.

A dozen people showed up at the gates this afternoon from a town called Trolleys. Apparently the staff broke through the walls and tore the town apart during the night. These 12 are the only survivors out of over a hundred. We let them in, obviously. One more point in the human decency column. Later, I asked if anyone knew how many of these towns there were out there. Between us and the new folks, we managed to come up with over 20 names. 20 towns filled with people, and who knows how many beyond that.

The motto for this place should be "How Is That Even Possible". Surely someone, somewhere must be looking for the thousands of people that must be in here.

I've been here for a little over 2 months now. Not that much changes, as it turns out. A couple of new people showed up, same story as the rest of us. Nice little trip to Ikea and suddenly they're trapped in Billy Bookcase's House of Faceless Weirdos. The staff attack the Exchange once or twice a week. We kill them and haul their bodies off, sometimes they hurt some of us first. They killed a guy called Jared a couple of weeks back. It was awful, frankly. Turns out regular humans still bleed in here, even if the staff don't. We tried our best, but none of us are doctors.

Jared was a good guy. He deserved better. We all do.

It occurred to me a couple of days after that, none of us were really looking for a way out of here. I don't even know where we'd start.

One of those quad copter things with a camera attached buzzed passed Exchange today. I thought it meant that someone was finally looking for us, that help was on the way. Apparently it's not the first time this has happened, though. Same thing happened a few months ago, and everyone is still here.

No idea if it saw us, it didn't stop if it did. Just kept flying until we could no longer see it.

Note: Based on recovery time of the journal, this entry appears to line up approximately with our first successful test piloting a drone inside SCP-3008-1. Analysis of footage shows a walled settlement under a sign labelled "Exchange and Returns". Attempts to relocate the settlement failed. Origin of previously sighted drones is unknown.

I started talking to people about the stuff they miss from home during dinner today. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, everyone seemed pretty down after. A bunch of people here have families. Husbands and wives, kids. Dogs. Franklin apparently has a pet llama, though I'm not sure I buy that.

But apparently some of the people here have some seriously odd gaps in their knowledge. 3 of them had never heard of the International Space Station, 2 of them seemed to think █████ ███████ was the Prime Minister, and one of them had apparently never heard of the Statue of Liberty. I believe them, too. They seemed just as confused as the rest of us.

The more I thought about it though, the more it started to explain a few things. What if the reason no one is looking for all us missing people is because we haven't all come from the same place. This is going to sound weird (maybe that should be the motto for this place) but what if all the people here have come from different dimensions? Realities? Whatever you call it. I've seen enough TV shows to know the drill. Sarah comes from a place where there is no Statue of Liberty. They didn't launch a space station where Wasim is from. If everyone here came from different places, even from ones that seem identical, there'd be no huge missing persons panic. No mass search. We'd just be a blip, a single missing person in a world of non-stop news.

Well. That was a fun train of thought.

Just realised that yesterday was the six month anniversary of my arrival here. I wonder if Ikea sells party hats. The routine around here has remained more or less the same. More new folk show up, one every couple of weeks or so. Food supplies go up and down, but we've never actually had a major shortage. Occasionally we get a visitor from one of the nearby towns, usually Checkouts or Aisle 630. We check in with each other from time to time, occasionally trade supplies if someone gets particularly low on something. It's comforting, in a way. A reminder that we aren't alone in here, some small glimmer of civilisation. Sometimes they bring medical supplies. Apparently there's a pharmacy a few towns down from Checkouts that gets restocked every now and then, so they share out what they can. I've never heard of an Ikea with a pharmacy before but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if someone stumbled on an Ikea Organ Harvesting Lab. Would certainly explain the staff.

Speaking of our faceless jailers, their attacks have been getting worse lately. 3 or 4 times a week now, with twice as many staff as there used to be. No idea where they all come from, or why the attacks have increased. We tried following one of them during the day a few weeks ago, me and Sarah. Wanted to see if they lead back to a staff room or something. Didn't seem to go anywhere though, just randomly walked through the aisles. We had to turn back before we found anything.

We've been reinforcing the walls, trying to arm ourselves better. Certainly no lack of materials to use. Wasim has been making more crossbows, but it's pretty slow going.

Too bad Ikea doesn't sell guns.

Note: No new personnel have entered SCP-3008 at Site-██ in the time span indicated in this entry.

The attacks are getting bad now. Almost every night, and with so many staff that the bodies almost pile high enough for others to climb the walls. I think we're in real trouble here.

Exchange is

I think Exchange is done. We got hit pretty bad last night. Not many casualties, but the wall is wrecked. We finally figured out why the attacks had been escalating, too. A box of supplies had a chunk of one of the staff in there. No idea how it happened but apparently a piece of one will draw them as well as a full body. Too late now in any case, there's too many bodies for us to haul away and still have time to fix the wall before night. Candace has called a meeting. I suspect there will be talk of abandoning Exchange, maybe try and get shelter at Checkouts or something.

It's already getting late though. I don't think we'll have time to make it. Maybe some of us will. I was fine for that first week out in the dark, after all. But then, how often can I keep getting lucky.

I'm only writing this for a sense of closure, I guess. For me, or for anyone who finds this. If this is the final entry here, I hope whoever is reading this is doing so from outside of this place.

My biggest fear? If I do die tonight, I'll just wake up here again in the morning.

Note: This is the last entry. It is assumed that while attempting to reach the "Checkouts" settlement he was separated from the rest of his group by a pursuing SCP-3008-2 instance and happened upon the exit.

We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see

Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it Inside we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye

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kileyrose-2003 · 4 years

Text

Rebecca character headcanons: How they react to seeing without a towel infront of them by accident after a shower

A/N: Hello lovelies! This is for my dear friend @merci-bitch I'm still working on all of your request. Most of them are being started from square one. So bare with me as I make it through them. Coming back fully is a work in progress for me. I'm going through a bit of a rough patch right now. It's all going to be okay in the end though. Just got to take everything one step at a time. I love you all and I hope you all have a wonderful day.

Warning: Implied/slight sexual content, slightly NSFW

Rose

This a common occurence with Rose

She hates shoes and I do headcanon she also dislikes clothes

She's very airy and bohemian in her style

Wears a lot of silk and cotton

She doesn't like feeling weighed down by fabric and material

It's very rare she actually wears a pair of form fitting pants when she's home

And even then, they're very stretchy

There are a couple of scene in Doctor Sleep where Stephen King explicitly writes she has no top on

Or no clothes in general

Especially around Crow.

She's a beautiful woman and she knows it

She even walks around The Bluebell Campground when she gets out the shower with only a bath sheet on

There is nothing sacred in The True Knot

They've heard and seen it all by now

So a person covered by only a bath sheet, doesn't bother them

You personally would never do it intentionally

And if you do accidentally expose yourself or run around improperly dressed, it's an accident or in the most dire of situations

At this point you're still freshly turned and holding onto rube morals still

Well

At least as much as you can being in The True Knot

On this particular occasion where you dropped the towel, it was Rose's turn to go grocery shopping

She gave you the option to come but you chose to stay behind

You slept in til about noon and you were in desperate need of a shower

And a cup of tea

She made you scream the night before

So after a little relaxation you took your shower

You're the fun one in the relationship

So if you like to sing, you sing in there. If you like to dance, you danced.

Point being you lost track of time

The cold water beading down on your skin was a harsh reminder of that

You stepped out, dried yourself

Dropped the bath towel

Went to pick out some clothes

The curtains were shut so it wasn't like anyone could see inside the trailer

Or at least you thought so

Until you heard the clicking of the door knob

You froze, panic running through your body

There was Rose, paperbags filled with groceries in her arms

At first the two of you stood there looking at each other with blank faces

Somewhere in the midst of your shock, you can hear Crow standing outside the trailer politely leaving the other bags on the steps

And you become even more mortified

But eventually Rose began to smile

"Well, that's a greeting in half isn't it."

You're immediately embarrassed by the remark which makes Rose grin even more

"No, no, no. No shame. It's not like it's the first time I've seen you in this setting, right?"

You stumble on your words even more

And you can tell Rose is genuinely enjoying it

You don't know what to do

What to say

Part of you is humiliated

But before you can conjure any words, her lips crash down upon yours, fingers running through your hair.

She is loving every single moment of this.

Especially your flustered expression afterwards

Needless to say you're not going to be needing clothes for quite a while now

Riza

Like Rose this is probably a more common occurence on Riza's part

Except with Riza, its not a matter of she hates clothes

She just likes to tease

In this scenario, Riza was out on business

She had to negotiate a new contract with an arms dealer and she wasn't supposed to be back for a few days so you had the house to yourself

As I mentioned before Riza hates anything deemed "domestic"

So you took it upon yourself to tidy up while she was gone

After a day of cleaning, you desperately needed the shower

You took longer than you normally would of, humming to yourself as you washed up

You didn't hear the clicking of the bedroom door opening mid way through

You dried off and stepped out of the shower, still singing to yourself. Not bothering to cover up with the towel.

And as you step out of the bathroom there is Riza

Comfortably lounged out on your bed, clad in a bathrobe with her martini glass in hand

She has been waiting to see the day that she could pull this off and now she can

"Hello, darling."

Her tone is sweet but clearly hints at a seductive nature

You nearly fall onto the floor, next expecting her to be there.

She laughs at you clearly entertained by not only the expression on your face but also your attire

"You're too cute, Y/n."

As she begins to approach you, she stands as tall as she can. Trying to intimidate you with her height.

"You really are such a precious thing, aren't you? So petite and most importantly, all mine."

She presses gentle kisses up and down your neck that leave you in shock

Riza knows she's seducing you every step of the way and she is loving it

She leads your hands down to the tie on her silk robe and squeezes your hand in hers

"Do you want to see what things you do to me?"

I think everyone can fill in the rest of the picture here

Kathleen

Even though Kathleen is a bit of a flirt and sometimes a tease, there are clear boundaries between the two of you

In every relationship there is a need for privacy and respect

If you have neither of those, the relationship won't work

So between the two of you, you respect the other one's need for privacy

Kathleen would never do anything to make you uncomfortable intentionally, and you are the same way towards her

Even though you share a room, you have a knock before you enter policy

Sure you've seen each other naked before, but it's what makes the two of you most comfortable

So her seeing you naked in this situation, was honestly a complete accident

You and Kathleen work different shifts

She teaches theatre during the day and you teach music at nights

You normally do your hair, makeup, etc. while Kathleen is out the house that way you can see her for a few minutes before heading your own way

You showered about an hour after she left

After you dried off, you had no hesitation to just rip the towel off

After all, it shouldn't be a big deal

You have curtains in your apartment , the front door is locked, etc.

You walk into your bedroom softly humming to yourself and much to your surprise there's Kathleen

Rummaging through your shared bedroom trying to find her wallet

The two of you immediately let out a yell and yiy try to make an attempt to cover yourself with anything in sight

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell am I doing?! I thought you were at work."

"I was at work but I had Augustus cover for me so I can run home. I can't find my damn wallet!"

You both were so embarrassed and your faces were evidence of that

It's something you both laugh about now but at the moment, it was not so funny.

After throwing on a bath robe and twenty minutes of searching, you eventually found the wallet and Kathleen was ready to go

She wrapped her arms around you at the front door

"Well that was quite the experience. Wouldn't you say so, darling?"

The smirk on her face is evidence she's well over the incident

But you can't help but tease

"Don't act like you didn't like it." You loop your arms around her neck. "I seen the way that you looked at me without that towel on before we had a moment to process."

The way she purses her lips makes your heart pound from the residual anxiety

But she eventually kisses you on the lips

The kiss last a while and leaves you out of breath

But it's a nice farewell that leaves a smile on your face

She might show you how much she loves you later on a day off after a drink or two

It's the little moments like this that make your relationship special

Jenny

Like I've mentioned before, Jenny is very clingy to who she deems as "hers"

So when it comes to your relationship, she has no sense of privacy or space at times

You could be in the middle of taking a shower and all the sudden

"You know, this is my favorite outfit."

And there's Jenny with her head either peaking in the shower or standing in the shower with you

It's a bit annoying and it's caused a few arguments between the two of you but you won't let it ruin your relationship

So this her seeing you naked thing, is somewhat common

On the occasion you accidentally dropped the towel, you thought she was downstairs rehearsing for her next show

She had a tour planned for the following week around Europe so you figured mine as well you do something nice to her before she goes on the road

You purposely picked out nice clothes

Spread them out all nice on the bed

You stepped out of the shower

Dried yourself off

Dropped the towel and as you're midway through walking to the bedroom

"Darling, I'm-"

You freeze up

And Jenny just stared at you

You can see her cheeks turn red and muttered a small "I'm sorry."

But she isn't

And her face shows it

Her lips are hinting at a slight smile

Smugness gleaming in those piercing eyes

"Could you stop staring at me like that?"

"Like what?"

And she knows damn well how she's staring at you

Her eyes wandering all over the place

"Like you're hypnotized."

"Well if I'm hypnotized by you tell me, how do I fix it?"

I think we all know how this ends

Rebecca

Rebecca is a very non judgmental person and has a good sense of humor

She's not the type that would make a huge deal about accidentally seeing you naked after a shower

Especially if it was within a time frame you didn't expect her to be home

Because she does travel alot for work

She'd be a little embarrassed at first

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry!"

Her cheeks would be cherry red and immediately reaching out to hand you your towel

And she'd step out to give you a moment to get dressed

Trying to make small talk to get both your minds off the incident

But afterwards it doesn't cross either of your minds

She's back to her normal self, hanging all over you every second she can and snogging

Dinah

If I already didn't want to hug Dinah, her reaction to this makes me want to hug her even more

Dinah is big on privacy

Even in your relationship, she likes to keep some things to herself

She will cuddle with you

She will kiss you

She will hug you

But she will not get undressed infront of you

And she absolutely would not want to see you naked

Under any circumstance

Her seeing you nude is something she is just not ready for

It's nothing against you

But she still needs time to heal and she doesn't know if she's ready for that next level in your relationship

And you respect that completely

The day she seen you naked was a complete accident

Dinah was busy doing errands and such while you were soaking in the bath after a long day of cleaning, so you figured she wouldn't be home anytime soon

Your body was fiercely sore. It hurt to even wrap a towel around it.

So what was the harm in not putting on a towel

As you were half way to your room, you heard the door the padding of feet softly across the floor and you froze

"Y/n, I'm back. My apologies, I-"

Yours and Dinah's eyes interlock and she nearly lets out a scream

She was petrified and looked near the verge of tears

Whether it was out of shock or embarrassment you can't tell

But it hurt so much inside to see her like that

You open your mouth to say something but before you even have the chance to say anything she's running outside

You debate on going after her right away but what good would it do?

She was already scared as it is and it's not like you can take the chances of walking outside nude

So you throw on a dress and shawl as quickly as you could and go to find her

When you do, she has her face buried in her hands but she's not crying which brings some relief

It was an accident obviously so she immediately forgives you but it's an incident that still sticks in your head for the next couple of days

Ilsa

Ilsa is similar to Rebecca in this situation except the shock factor hits her harder

She was off on a mission for the past couple of weeks and you were missing her terribly

Ilsa was supposed to be home earlier during the day but something came up

So you figured you'd take the time to make her a nice dinner and make yourself up

You didn't even hear her walk through the front door when she got home

You had the stereo on as you were making dinner and never bothered to shut it off

You dried off quickly in the bathroom and left the towel on the counter as you stepped out

You walked into your room expecting to be alone but there was Ilsa, clad in her favorite sweats and t shirt

Her eyes lock with yours and for a second it's intense, almost as if she's mad at you

If you weren't so locked up, you would of been running to find the nearest item of clothing and Ilsa must of seen it

Her expression quickly faded into an almost hinted smile and she blushed

"Hell-I am so sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I made dinner if you want it. Do you mind to-"

"No, not at all."

You notice her eyes lingering as she leaves you alone to get dressed and you can't help but feel slightly humiliated

But by the time you're out of the room and dressed, she's over it and is all over you

Kissing your face all over and holding you close

The time you get alone is rare, but you both cherish it

#ilsa faust #rose the hat #jenny lind #headcanons #kathleen weatherly #rebecca ferguson #riza stavros #the red tent #dinah

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buddha-in-disguise · 4 years

Text

I'm not going to review the season finale in quite the same way as I've usually written something afterwards. I'm ultra tired due to distinct lack of sleep. So it is more truncated than I'd intended. Also unedited so advance apologies if something makes no sense or is misspelled etc.

The episode was facing the challenge of not only being edited after COVID-19 shut down production, but what was intended to be the penultimate episode became the finale. So I'm trying to take that into consideration.

First part in Kara's loft. It was choppy. Don't get me wrong, I had nothing against the humour, or the scenes in general. Although they missed the glaring opportunity to place a "flew here on a bus," moment! It felt pretty disappointing they didn't recognise what has become an iconic line within the SG fandom, and made it even more iconic.

Before the bus though, back at the loft, considering that Lena had literally only just arrived at Kara's, with all that entails, it felt completely out of place for that context. Did it have been overwhelming heavy at that point? Absolutely not. But it was too close to slapstick at times for me and internally I was cringing. I admit, I'm not sure where they could've put it in, but perhaps if they'd just lowered it a fraction, made it a little more subtle a couple of times, it would've helped for me.

Some of the dialogue (especially early on) was also all over the place for me. It did get better as the episode wore on, but I wonder how much was the need to redo parts of the episode because of COVID-19? Unless they think to put an episode as intended in a future season DVD (perhaps S6 DVD), or someone gives us full details via an interview we will probably never know.

Which brought me to one piece of dialogue that I wish they'd not put in at all!

In 5.18, as I've spoken about a lot on Twitter especially, the way Lex screams into Lena's face, and Lena's flinch, and how that had been me 20 odd years ago. They then had the line as Lena talks to Kara; "Go ahead. Scream at me if you have to, I know I deserve it."

I know for many, they'd just see it as a line to use, but .... for many of us who have suffered abuse, who recognised (& in some instances were triggered) by last weeks episode, to not have acknowledged why that line was so problematic is worrying. It heavily suggests they're not going to address Lena's trauma and abuse because they really don't understand it (& again, if anyone believes she didn't suffer trauma and abuse, but accept others in SG do, go away with your bias from my page), but considering they haven't addressed much of Kara's trauma, particularly watching Argo destroyed again, being stuck for months during Crisis like they were, etc - then I guess it isn't a surprise.

But it is uncomfortable as hell to watch a line like that glossed over.

Overall though, I did enjoy the episode. Once that 1st half was over, especially (baring a few moments, including watching Alex do her badass Mission Impossible meet Cirque du Soleil moment because that was awesome) it felt much more like SG of previous seasons. So that was great.

Watching Lena as she watched Alex and Kara hug behind her was so emotional. Watching siblings love unconditionally. Something she thought she had with Lex, only to realise he hadn't changed at all. Lena didn't need to say anything, as once again Katie's acting brought all the emotion Lena was feeling to the fore.

Having Lena and Alex mirror they choice of words in regards Kara was pretty iconic. Then having Alex whisper, "Jinx." really made it work.

Seeing Dreamer in her element, including some great lines again. "I can't believe you left to fight Earth, Wind & Fire without us." "Guess they didn't take the bait? Maybe you should've been meaner?" As they begin the fight with J'onn, M'gann Alex and Dreamer - Alex to Dreamer: "You ready?" Dreamer. "Nope." Alex. "Me neither." Dreamer at her best imo.

Kelly going all, damn my girlfriend is hot & I want sex right now despite the circumstances was pretty cute and funny.

The Kara and Lena monologues being in unison. Now that was pretty amazing and one of the best parts of the whole episode imo.. But again, you feel as if they're matching Lena and Kara together with those scenes as a couple.

Lena not only protecting Kara, but stopped Andrea from going down a dark path as Acrata. Was also great.

Last frame of Lillian. Does it turn out she is the head of Leviathan? Because again they laid out more than once the leader was a woman. It has been noted several times now in different episodes. I was hoping Lena's biological mother, considering she knew of the legend of Acrata, but it is now looking more likely this reincarnation of Lillian is who it is, unless it is a character we've not been introduced to, but I highly doubt that.

The 2nd half of the episode was what we missed so much this season. In fact aspects throughout the episode were missing for too much this season.

This includes the women being the focal point of it. Brainy though absolutely rightly taking a strong subplot to what else was going on. J'onn ably supported by M'gann. M'gann who managed to advise Nia on embracing her dreams and not trying to avoid part of them. Dansen actually working together and both being badass in their own way (after all, this is something I've advocated for much of the season, & while fantastic to see, it never should've taken this long. Now where have we heard that before?)

But we still have glaring unanswered questions that I can't imagine would've been answered in 5.20.

Every indication since 5.17 is Kelly knows Kara is Supergirl. Yet we don't know for certain, because they've failed to show us how or when. I've said before, considering every other person who knows Kara is Supergirl, we had them tripping over themselves to explain to the audience how it happened. I'm pretty annoyed that we as the audience don't get given the same courtesy with Kelly. This is why so many of us feel short changed on some characters this season. The really aggravating thing is would only take a few lines to clear it up!

Now onto Alex. This ties in with J'onn. Where are they getting the money to survive? Did J'onn manage to accumulate enough over all the years he was on Earth to finance everything & pay Alex a wage? No clue.

Also, are Kelly & Alex living together? Or do they have keys to each others apartments? Yes, Kelly was at Alex's in 5.17 so the answer is pretty much yes, but nothing has been said! We knew more about Brainy & Nia's living arrangements from 5a than we do Kelly & Alex.

Kara's trauma. Lena's abuse & trauma. See above.

Lastly, the one most I know want (except a few vocally against), leaning towards Supercorp becoming canon. Again for another season, we end up with the, 'Maybe they'll do it next season.' being said. Particularly as in 5a they really went all out on Supercorp parallels to Clois and at times Dansen, plus even a little on Brainia. But unless something pretty fundamental changes behind the scenes, they're going to recognise what their biggest draw is, keep baiting but never fully go into it. And that is what I fear the most. When you've got media, even non-Supergirl fans saying it, but the show refusing to acknowledge it - that could be their legacy, and it will not look good or have a lot of fans look back kindly on them for it.

The 4 seasons it took for Lena to find out Kara was Supergirl was, in the end, terribly executed. This waxing and waning as well of; is Lena good or bad? Will she follow in the Luthor footsteps?

She is flawed. She's made some pretty awful mistakes. But now they're said she is good. She isn't evil or a villain. So now that line they've drawn needs to stay there! No more ambiguity on her character being a villain.

But you know what's not good? Feeling you can't trust the show to draw a line under that aspect of the character. That doesn't mean you have to have any one of them not be flawed, or to even cross some lines (they've all done it at some point, some moreso than others, but not one character is innocent).

When the show is now generating that level of mistrust on how they could handle future events, that is a problem.

Season 5 overall (particularly 5b) was absolutely horrendously bad. It had some moments of sheer brilliance (either individual scenes, or some episodes), but the rest was just flat out awful. Irrelevant. Messy. No cohesion. 5b became too much of the Lex Luthor show. Certain character additions were vastly unpopular and definitely caused down turns in viewer numbers (& again, from far more than a section of fandom). As did keeping Lena away from everyone for so long.

To sum up. Season 5 was a disaster.

Season 6 needs to have considerably different direction to even try & pull back some viewers (if they can at all). Distrust is rife.

The worst is no-one in the cast deserved this, especially as they're so talented. Some of the performances, even with how poor much of the season was, have been magnificent. But as the saying goes, you can't make a silk purse out of a sows ear.

I've never been so relieved a season is finally over. We'll watch our favourite episodes for sure, of which there aren't many, but a full rewatch of the season we normally do will not be happening. Some episodes were better off consigned to the trash.

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writersperpetualblock · 5 years

Text

Breakfasts in a broken home.

A/N; Cuz I’ve got a major crush on older men. This was originally written as a Jeffrey Dean Morgan × Reader thing but halfway through I changed my mind to my very neglected baby Chris Evans of whom I never write anything. So here is.

Summary; How much can a broken marriage hold when there is nothing left to hold on to? You can try to ignore it, you can try to run from it. But the truth will always catch up to you.

Warnings: Sensitive topics such as depression, malnutrition and divorce.

••••••○

Reader PoV.

Waking up was hard, the air felt chilly even when the sun was already high up in the sky. A soft sigh escaped me as I turn around, half expecting my husband to be lay sleeping by my side. Half expecting him to be on the other side of the country, working.

Not surprisingly enough I find the second one to be the truth. Neither confusion nor disappointment drowned me anymore, now it felt more like a huge wave of empty crashed inside me. Just last night he had gone to sleep on this bed, craddling me in his arms, even after our heated fight. I closed my eyes, and without warning a tear escapes me. I knew what I was getting into when I married him, I knew he'd always be trapped in tons of work and have important things to take care of all the time. It was just sad that I wasn't one of those things anymore.

I could not gather the strength to get out of bed. I simply couldn’t. Not today. Not without my Chris.

Someone slowly knocked on the door. I was quick to wipe the tears from my eyes, hoping anyone would come through the door but my son.

“Come in” A skinny girl pushes the door open and enters the room head down. I was never a fan of having maids, but Chris insisted he wanted to give me the best care whenever he was away. And after a while of what would have been very lonely weeks at a time, I came to appreciate their company.

“Joan” I acknowledge the girl just a few years younger than me and with a baby boy near my owns age. She carried a tray in her hands and much to my dismay I sat up and instructed her to leave it on the night stand. She did so and gave me a small but bright smile.

“Mrs Evans, the kids asked earlier if they could go to the town’s annual fair that's taking place in a few hours. Of course Matteo wished to come ask you himself but I told him you were still asleep“ her brown eyes scan me, as if trying to decide what my reaction is going to be.

“I don’t see why not.” I try to give her a smile “Thanks Joan, you may take them yourself. I'll give you some money for the boys. Buy icecream, cotton candy or whatever they want and bring them back for dinner, all right?”

She nodded and walked out of the room with a smile. Then her head popped at the door again. “I will get them ready now and I'll tell Mateo to come say hi before he leaves.” She trailed off, seemingly unsure of her next words “He has not seen you out of bed in days Y/n.”

My eyebrows rise at that, and she closes the door behind her. Can't be mad when she's telling the truth, but the reprimand isn't exactly appreciated.

Taking one look to my breakfast I sigh, I didn’t feel much like eating today. But with Joan's words pounding in my head, I knew I needed some strength. If not for me for my son. But before anything else I reached for my phone to send out a single text.

: Where did you go?

As I awaited a response I slowly got out of bed and heade to the bathroom between dizzy steps, trying to recall the last time I had more than a granola bar and chocolate to eat. Not being surprised by the fact that I didn’t even remember. While brushing my teeth I managed to avoid a glance at the person on the mirror. Not wishing to see her swollen cheeks, or the dark circles under her eyes or her mistreated skin. After a layer of particularly pink lotion to my face and a cold water rinse I felt a tad more awake, trying not to sprint inside the bedroom at the first ring of my phone. No, instead I took my time drying my face and putting some handcream on. Finally heading out of the bathroom and straight torwards the phone.

Chris♡: They called me in to retake some scenes. Will be home by night.

Of course. The phone found itself being dropped back in the bed rather harshly. Like we didn’t have a marriage emergency going on.

I almost chuckle, marriage emergency… what kind of selfish bitch was living within me. It was his work, mostly what gave me and my son the spectacular roof over our heads and brought food on the table since I pretty much quit my job. I shouldn’t expect it to be less important. It’s not like his family was at stake here.

Suddenly shutting my senses to my thoughts I attempt to shake them off my head. But I can’t. All I do is contradict myself, all there is is a never ending inner fight with myself and it was making me lost. I had a son to look after. I needed to be more supportive of my husband. Of myself when it came to that. But I felt mentally and physically exhausted. And it needed to stop. Start with your breath...

When I consider that I have collected myself enough to pick at my breakfast and turn around there is an expectant little figure by the door. And I feel the wind knocked out of my stomach.

I gave him a small smile. “Hey baby” he quickly runs up to me and my body crouches on instinct, lifting him from the floor and squeezing him into my arms. I breath in the scent of his blonde waves. For a moment, all of my inner fight had dissipated. All of the struggle forgotten for a second and there is a smile on my lips. A true smile.

“Good afternoon momma” he wraps his short arms around my neck. My nose itches and for a second I think I may cry.

“oh I love you baby” I reply, sitting him on the bed. The pain on my lower back not going unnoticed as I do so, but I have mastered the art of acting and sit next to my son.

“Adrian is still getting ready momma, can we watch tv?” he looks up at me, baby blue eyes sparkling, just like his father’s do. "Mhmm" is all I get out. Could my own kid look less like me? It's as if Chris made him solo and I simply carried and gave birth to his offspring that had nothing to do with me.... maybe the nose.

We sat back on the bed. Matteo watching a cartoon, and me trying to eat my food like a little girl being watched eat, almost obligated. With a sigh I take a spoonful of oatmeal to my mouth. It wasn’t bad really, warm and creamy. I eat half of the plate and share a cookie with my son. We both lean back on the bed, Matteo with his small body against my side. I took a second to enjoy it but it didn't last. Joan knocked on the half open door, her son by the hand. "We are ready to go!"

Matteo smiled widely and jumped off the bed, sprinting towards them but stopping in his tracks and heading back to me. I giggled as he left a loud kiss on my cheek and then ran again to his friend. I instruct Joan where to find some money and she smiles, thankful. When their steos are out of earshot I turn the tv off and fill the bathtub with hot water. Deciding to make myself useful or something on this day.

It had been sometime since I'd last taken a nice bath. It was really cold outside so normally a quick shower would suffice, and I'm sure it was more than a day ago since the last one. Yes, I should be ashamed, but I didn't care too much. It's not like I was doing anything too exciting inside these many, many walls.

••••○

Answering the 14th call of the hour a hand runs through my hair as I sit down on the small bed of the trailer.

"Hey Chris, what's up?" There's a tone of worry that I recognize.

My head starts spinning with possible answers, but I shake my thoughts away. "I'm fine, it's just Y/n."

"Oh, is she doing okay?"

"Not really." there's a pause as he gives me time to get my thoughts together "She isn't getting out of bed. She barely eats, she doesn't spend time with our son... I feel like it's my fault, because I'm always away and I've neglected her so."

"Hey I don't think it's that, she knows you need to be away Chris, I'm sure she understands that even if it's hard. And she can take care of herself."

"Yes I know she understands, but, just last night we had a fight. It was the first time I'd been home for weeks and she fights with me."

"You guys have a son that's 3, just couse she understands I don't think it's any easier on her, so you gotta give her some credit."

"I'm worried that she doesn't pay attention to him, what if he thinks it's because of him? I don't know how she might treat him when I'm not there."

"Chris! you know better than anyone else how much she loves Matteo. I couldn't possibly think of her as much as putting her hands on him, much less being mean."

"I know... I just worry, and all kinds of things just come up in my mind."

"Well you need to home more man, if you don't even know how things go in your house maybe it's time you quit."

"What? Scott I signed a contract, I can't just" my back hits the bed with a loud creak and I shut my eyes.

"Break it, I'm not saying it's forever. But you both have a lot of money. It could probably sustain you guys for a lot more years. Your wife needs you brother, and so does your son."

"I can't just..."

"Chris this is your freaking family!"

"I know dammit I KNOW!" Inevitably hot tears fill my eyes and I have to wipe them with the back of my hand.

"What are you so afraid of?" Scott asks and it makes tears to well up again.

A shocked sob came out with the next words "That she's gonna want to leave."

"Chris, Y/n loves you more than a human being can love. You can go and fix your marriage now, or you can keep working until the amazing woman that sits at your home sinks into a bottomless depression that drowns her and your son with her."

My brother's words hit me. I knew it was getting bad, but I was too scared to deal. It was easier being away and pretending I had a happy marriage at home waiting for me every time. But reality was creeping in more and more, I noticed that yesterday.

"What did you guys fight about yesterday?"

"Uh.., my drinking."

"Chris... you're not abusing it are you?"

"No I'm not, I just, had a few glasses because I was finally home. After weeks, and she got mad, said Matteo shouldn't have to see me like that, and I got mad because I really wasn't drunk," My head hurts at the memory of it "it got heated... fast, and I threw a glass against the floor and she got scared and I just... I feel like she sees me like stranger Scott."

"I would see you as a stranger if you were never home and on top of that started acting up when you were. I think you guys should take sometime off, talk things and maybe go to couple's therapy or some shit, I don't know. But you two have a kid, spend some time with him, don't fuck him up just because the two of you have problems. The jobs not worth it, the money's not worth it, at the end of the day, nothing is worth more than your family."

"I fucking hate when you get all deep with me" I chuckle, sitting up and resting my fforehead in one hand.

"That's only because I'm right." my brother laughs too.

"How about you? Are you guys doing alright?"

"Don't worry bout us, we're still on the honeymoon phase"

We both laugh and say our goodbyes, having my brother pep talk me. I knew I had to get my family back, even if I hadn't really lost them, yet. But I needed the incentive to do so.

Reader

The baths I prepare are pretty damn good, dare I say so myself. Laying back on the water, taking a few deep breathes. It does wonders. And suddenly an idea pops in my head.

When I was somewhere around 18 I struggled with depression for years. And one of the things that helped me through that was to write down how I felt, how I wished to feel and how I could improve my situation. It was how I took writing as one of my hobbies.

So I started typing away on my phone.

I know I am not as pretty as I used to be.

I never was too perfect, or perfect at all.

And I'm conscious that my body might not look desirable anymore.

Maybe, I never deserved your love.

Or maybe it was you who didn't deserve mine.

But we made it through the hate,

we had something so beautiful.

We made life.

And I wish things could go back to being so beautiful.

But I would still love you if you decided that I'm not enough for you anymore.

I will accept anything.

All I know for sure is just that this can't keep on like this.

We deserve to be happy.

I deserve to be happy.

For the good of the life that we created,

for the good of our son,

we must get better

wether that is apart or together.

"I had forgotten how much I suck at this." I laughed at myself, but that was fine, because it got the message across. I think.

I hope.

Divorce wasn't something new to cross my mind. I just never thought I would want to discuss it, not so seriously. My parents were divorced, and my mom and I did fairly good. My dad did great on the other hand.. It wasn't that I was scared of it really, because I considered myself capable enough.

My only fear was that I would never move on from Chris, I loved him still. I have loved him since our first kiss. But sometimes it felt as if I barely knew the person that I loved anymore. My heart was still clinging to his, but my mind could not be any more distant right now.

If I really wanted to save our marriage I had to act now. But I couldn't do it alone, and that was exactly how I felt that I was.

The water went cold, and I stood up grabbing the nearest towel. Stepping out of the bath I bent down to unclog it, and when I stood back up my ears rang.

I held onto the wall for a second, and it only got worse. The room obscuring and spinning at the same time. I am not sure if I slipped or if I fainted, but I could surely say there was a bit of blood running down my forehead.

And when I finally came back to it, I was already on an ambulence.

"Ma'am. Mr. Evans is on his way, you're okay."

My eyes went to the back of my head, it felt as if I'd been on a damn carousel for hours. What the hell was happening to me?

There was a distant voice asking me things, and all I could reply was dizzy and nauseous several times.

I fucked up, who was going to take care of Matteo. I couldn't take care of him in a hospital. He needed me by his side.

"You should have taken better care of yourself."

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x you #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x oc #chris evans series #chris evans x reader series

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rwbyremnants · 3 years

Link

WARNINGS: Just a lot of drama.

Yikesss sorry about this one for those of you who were expecting a lot of smut. Next time will be more fun I swear!

=Chapter 9

That night, Ruby was barely able to sleep. Their session had been beyond fantastic as usual, which usually left her exhausted enough to start napping in the car on the journey home; but this had been completely different. There were a few flirtatious comments between them both on their journey, but nothing more. And even when laying by Penny's side, she couldn't sleep. She just kept thinking about what had happened.

Winter liked her. She must have liked her. All this time, it had been right under her nose, she was just too blind to see it! And what did she do? Nothing. She bottled things up as usual, too scared of her own feelings or a sense of judgement to confess how she really felt. There was a possible relationship right there that would make her feel complete, the perfect complement to her emotional closeness with Penny, and she was too scared to grasp it.

No more, she said to herself. She was tired of lying awake in fear; she had to do something. Whether it helps or not, I have to tell her.

And the next day, she did. After dropping off her father at Yang and Weiss's, the nervous little brunette drove straight to Winter's. No prearranged session, no word of warning. Just her dropping in out of the blue. It was completely different from any contact she had with Winter before. When she knocked at the door, she could already feel her heart pounding.

"Just a moment," she heard distantly. There was a long pause, some approaching steps. Then she heard a gasp. "Ruby?!"

An instant later, the door was being unlatched and jerked open. There stood Winter, dressed in her usual business best. It looked as if she were about to leave for some meeting or other, even though she had yet to slip her heels on over her nylon-covered feet. Makeup already impeccable, she blinked slowly, baffled and waiting for an explanation.

"I need to talk to you." The look on her face spoke volumes about her desperation. She looked as though she had already been worrying for days – because she had. "Is this a good time? Or should I…?"

"Well… I have about fifteen minutes, I was just going to head out a little early. Come in, come in."

To drive the point home, she stood back and opened the door a little wider. Doing as asked, Ruby paced inside immediately. If it was anything minor, she would have arranged to come back another day, especially with Winter seeming to have plans. But she was in need. Right away, she walked into the living room, standing rather than sitting just yet.

"Sorry to show up so out of the blue like this."

"My red rose out of the blue," Winter joked with a quiet smile, picking up her heels and sitting in the chair. "Go ahead. What's up?"

"W-well…" Before she entered the door, she had rehearsed this in her head. Exactly what she would say, possible responses and outcomes. Now…

Blank. Her mind was completely and utterly blank. Why did she even come here in the first place? She clearly wasn't ready, not for this.

No! she told herself, shaking her head again. You can NOT do this again, Ruby Rose! You have to say something now – or no more cookies for a week! Swallowing, she continued to stand by Winter's sofa, staring outward rather blankly. "I-I've… been thinking. About our arrangement, what it means to us both."

"Have you?" Winter asked mildly as she pulled one shoe on. Carefully, as if knowing that Ruby was having trouble and that the best thing she could do for her was to be indifferent; to not overreact.

"Y-yes." Nerves were getting to her again. Not even a few seconds into the confession and she was already beginning to feel that she couldn't continue. Powering through, however, she looked back toward Winter. "The way you treat me… i-it's different, from how other Doms treat their subs. I saw in the club, they treat them as their friends, or casual hookups. The nice ones still care, sure, but they don't seem to go… above and beyond. And like… the more sessions we do, the more I begin to realise… y-you treat me like Blake would treat Sun. Still as a Dom, but… more. There's more set up, more care. You go over the moon and back to impress me with everything, make sure I’m safe, a-and happy."

Slowly, as she had continued speaking, Winter's eyebrows drew together. She had picked up the other heel, but it simply lay in her hands as she processed Ruby's words. Finally, she shrugged and tried to respond as best she could.

"That's because you are more than that to me. You're a friend, and a family member. And… I care about you very much. You're right that if it was purely a Dom-sub arrangement with someone I only know from The Clamp, I wouldn't be quite as caring; professional, and considerate, yes. And I'd definitely stop them from winding up in Cinderella's clutches regardless," she added with a frown.

"It's not just about Cinderella," she pushed ahead, finally finding herself sitting on the arm of Winter's sofa. Looking down a moment, she seemed to think a little longer before speaking up again. "You bought so much for our scenes, spent so much on me, just for a little fun. You brought a chapter of a book and film I love to life, for God’s sake!"

Again, Winter had to blink, before laughing - it was the kind of unsure laughter of someone who doesn't know what to think about what they're hearing. "But… but that was what you wanted, wasn't it? Is that what this is about, worrying about the cost? I told you, that doesn't matter to me. Seeing you happy is worth it."

"N-no. That's just it!" Looking straight at her instead, it seemed she was finally coming to the conclusion of their small talk. "You do all this, just for me. You do everything to make me happy… and it does make me happy, happy someone cares about me so much. But I can't help but feel that…" Moment of truth. The first phase of her confession, finding out how Winter felt…

"That you care about me as more than a friend. More than a family-in-law member."

The elder of the Schnee sisters didn't respond at first. She simply stared at the coffee table between them, trying to process what she was being asked-but-not-asked. Or, perhaps more accurately, trying to find how she was going to respond to it.

"Well… I… don't know what's making you think that. Is there something wrong with me wanting to treat you well? To show that you're not just some sub? That may be true, but the way you're saying it… is it such a bad thing to care about you?"

"No, it's not at all!" It seemed not to have come out how she intended. Not only did Ruby gain no knowledge, she had potentially insulted her. That was the last thing she wanted. Now was her only chance. "What I'm getting at I-is… I-I care about you, too. A hell of a lot! And the more I've been thinking about it, the more I've been realising - I care about you more than I would an average friend, even best friend. You're… on the same level as Penny." Swallowing one last time, she finally managed to find the courage. "What I'm trying to say is that… That I-"

But there was a clear clattering of the lock again at the door, one loud enough to stop her in her tracks. The worst thing was the voice that accompanied the sound – one that seemed familiar.

"Snowbird, you in? I have had a real crappy day, I swear to God."

Eyes flying wide, she turned to Ruby and hissed in a low but urgent voice, "I need you to go hide immediately. I'm sorry, but if our arrangement really does mean anything to you… this is very important. Go!"

"B-but-!" Another shush from Winter stopped the thoughts in their tracks. Doing as asked, Ruby made a quick dash for the bathroom, slowly shutting it behind her so there wasn't too much noise. What was going on? Curiosity got the better of her; she she pressed her ear against the door to listen in.

"Customers, they are fuckin' jerks. Bar told me to go home early cause they could tell I was too pissed off not to take it out on some random sap."

"That's a shame," Winter was saying. Her voice was slightly more strained than usual, but not by much. "I know you like that job most days of the week. You… haven't been partaking of their stock again, have you?"

"Nah, we just got a bachelor party. Told them they had too much, they got pissy. Nearly picked a fight with me, I swear. But home now…"

By this point, Ruby knew she recognised that voice. There was no way it could be who she thought it was… could it? She needed to know. Gently easing the door further open, she slowly looked through the crack, revealing it to be…

Exactly who she dreaded it was. There stood a salt-and-pepper haired man, who had just wrapped his arms around Winter. The man who pulled her close to him and was smirking suggestively was one of the worst people she could ever see in this situation.

Her Uncle Qrow. Winter was living with her uncle.

“Now, now,” Winter cooed, her voice pitched so low that Ruby couldn’t have heard it if the door were closed. It wasn't quite affectionate in the way of a girlfriend, but more like… the term "fuckbuddy" that Yang liked to use seemed applicable. "You know I don't have time for this; I'm off to a meeting. I didn't think you'd be home now, anyway."

"Awwww, you sure they can't wait twenty minutes? You know it only takes me that long to make you scream." Smirking downward at her, he gave her a light grasp on the backside. "Especially if that bed frame of yours is involved, hmm?"

This was even worse for Ruby. Not only was she having to deal with the knowledge that one day, her uncle could walk in on them in any moment, but now… it seemed they were both sleeping with the same woman. While Winter had been her Dom, she had still been with her uncle! That crossed all kinds of awkward lines!

Winter's giggle and "Ooh" didn't help matters much. But then she did say, "Tonight. Just corral your horses for the time being, and we will revisit this when I'm back." Then, as an afterthought, she cleared her throat and said, "Why don't you take a little nap? Might help you relax after work… be ready for plenty of action later."

Qrow only seemed to chuckle, even if he was retracting from her grip. "You're telling me to be a lazy ass today? Wow, are you feeling okay?"

"Fine, fine. You've earned it for tonight." In return for him squeezing her behind, she delivered a quick swat to his. "Get in there and relax a bit. I have to be off, anyway."

"I’ll spare myself that kind of relaxing, if you wanna do a scene later. I know you’re happy when it's extra hard." Still, he obediently followed the request. He headed straight for the spare bedroom, thankfully not noticing the slightly ajar bathroom door and little Ruby's eye peeking through it, watching his every movement.

Her own uncle… Winter had been living with him for months. None of this was mentioned, and yet, it was still going on. This was madness! Sick!

The minute the bedroom door shut, Winter started pacing down the hall, as if to open the door. But when she saw it was already open and Ruby was peering through, she waved at her to come out - while her other hand raised a finger to her lips, cautioning her to be quiet.

She would have been, anyway. More from shock than anything else. She was still trying to take everything in that had just happened. Qrow, all this time she had no idea it was Qrow. Nor did she have any idea that they were doing scenes together, something she should have probably guessed when they were both in the same club! God, she felt stupid.

Once they were back in the living room, she pointed toward the bedroom, talking in a hushed voice, "Qrow?! My Uncle Qrow?!"

"Ah," Winter breathed. Her expression had already been strained from the near-miss… but now it fell entirely. "So… you recognised him."

"Of course I recognised him! The man more or less raised me with Dad for over ten years!" Now that Ruby was beginning to come to terms with it, she was becoming more angry than anything else. A mixture of angry and sad. Even if she was keeping her volume down, it was obvious. "Why didn't you tell me that he's living here?! That you and him are a thing, too?! That's kinda something you oughtta tell his niece before you start any hanky panky!"

"Let's discuss this on the way to my car," Winter whispered as she moved to pick up her briefcase again. Her actions were highly anxious, but she was trying her best to remain calm. "Otherwise, he may come out to see why I haven't left yet, and perhaps I'm wrong, but I think you'd rather not have this discussion with both of us."

While she wanted to continue ranting, that was a fair point on Winter's behalf. The last thing they needed was for Qrow to know this was happening, as well; that would be awkward for both of them to explain. Reluctantly agreeing, she walked ahead to the door, waiting outside of it for Winter to follow.

Once on the other side, Winter locked the door and began speaking the moment she turned away from it. "So you do have a fair point. I know that… because of the familial situation, maybe I should have told you. On the other hand, it wasn't really any of your business."

"Wasn't any of my- that's my UNCLE!" she repeated again, without holding herself back on volume this time. She remembered her apartment was soundproofed, so there was no chance of him hearing. But didn't exactly realise the rest of the building was not. "It may not be my business normally, but like, isn’t this kind of a different situation?! You just kept banging my uncle and tried to make sure I never noticed!"

Taking off at a fast clip, Winter led the two of them to the elevators as she hissed, "Exactly. Because my arrangement with him is no one's business whatsoever. Just like mine and yours isn't his business, either. That's how this is supposed to work, you know."

"Don't lecture me on how this is supposed to work!" she snapped back. Regardless of the fact she quite honestly wanted to get away from Winter right now, she entered the elevator, keeping right to one corner and out of the way. But from her scowl, she was still livid. "I thought 'None of your business' meant somebody like Sun or Blake! I didn't realise that meant 'Family members included'!"

"He is a friend. To me. Don't forget, he's your uncle, not mine." Sighing, she thumbed the button and they began to descend to the parking levels. "Look. I am sorry that you finding this out upset you, but I stand by what I said; you didn't have any more right to this knowledge than he does. Maybe I should have thought through the discomfort of the situation a little more and been more careful, but that's not the same as saying I was obligated to disclose."

"No, you're not. But like, maybe you should have considered how I'd feel about it before you started training me! Especially if… If you really…" She couldn't even finish that sentence anymore. Now that this information had come to light, she didn't know what to think. As much as she wanted to ignore it all, simply push it to the back of her mind and ignore it had all happened, she couldn't. This was far too big to sweep under the rug.

When Ruby didn't go on, she sighed. "What? So now you think I don't care about you just because I have arrangements with other people? It's not even as if you and Qrow are my only 'clients'; Glynda, for one, has asked me to put her through a few more sessions. And there are others I haven’t told you about, because it’s not pertinent to you and I. The whole point of this not being personal is that it's not supposed to be personal! And before you get any ideas, no, I didn't intend to ‘collect’ an uncle and a niece; it wasn't something that tickled my fancy, and I never thought of you while with him, or him while with you. And I am very serious about that."

"Well maybe I came today to make it a little more personal!"

In that moment, silence fell. All she could do was take a few deep breaths to calm down. While before she was filled with anger and sadness, now that they had come to this crossroads, she felt something else: fear. This definitely wasn't how she was supposed to confess her feelings…

"Yes, I remember," Winter breathed softly. "But… obviously I can't take that to heart yet. Now that this has changed the discussion." Regret was heavy in her features as the elevator doors slid open, and she began walking through the garage. Continuing to follow, Ruby made her way toward her little red car that looked inferior compared to the rest of the vehicles in the garage. How fitting with her current emotions.

Before she completely parted ways with Winter, however, she spoke up again. "So that's it? I just accept it and we don’t change anything, me and him hiding from each other and I have to deal?"

"Why not?!" Winter burst out, stopping in her tracks to glare at Ruby. "What's wrong with the way things have been until now? Everyone got what they wanted! I… may have wanted more, but I was satisfied, and so were you, and so was Qrow! What’s the harm?!"

Glaring right back at her, she was barely able to hold her tears back anymore, feeling the odd one or two falling down her cheek. "The harm is I thought you liked me! Liked me enough to let me know this was a thing, anyway! Of course I feel weird about it! You'd feel weird if I was sleeping with your dad, or with Weiss, wouldn't you?!"

"RIGHT!" Winter burst out, striding right up to Ruby, face livid. The mask of calm she always seemed to wear was now gone, and the sheer level of fury was all the more startling for it. "Because I have no idea what it's like to have family and sexual escapades get a little too close for comfort, DO I? You wouldn't do that to ME! Oh no, of COURSE not!"

"THAT ISN'T FAIR!" She yelled right back, hands curling into fists to try and hold in her anger. "You can't do that! It’s not my fault that you went through all that shit! Don't you throw that at me!!!"

"YOU FUCKED ME IN FRONT OF MY FATHER!" Her chest was heaving, eyes wild. Ruby took a step back when she realised what they were talking about: not some old issues about her prostituting herself to protect Weiss. No, not that; something much more recent. "I bet you haven't had a bad night's sleep about it since you did it! Have you?! Never once cared, never… didn't consider that maybe you shouldn't have done that, even though I was clearly aroused! Have you?!"

The younger girl’s lip wobbled for a second as she dealt with the storm of emotions threatening to make her burst into tears. "WRONG! I haven't slept, not one wink! And since that time, barely at all, because I thought that… thought that you loved me as much as I love you! You have no idea-"

"I DO, Goddamn you! Even after that, after y-you poisoned my dreams, I still…" Now Winter's tears were falling as well. "How am I supposed to be in the same room as him ever again?"

Stopping in her tracks, Ruby waited right by her car door. She hadn't unlocked it yet, and for good reason. Winter was really hurt, about that? She had assumed that was something that she had enjoyed, given her response to it in the midst of their play, but now upon realising it was damaging…

"Holy shiz, I… Winter, oh my God, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "You didn’t say- okay, I know that doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt. I'm sorry I fucked up, okay? But that doesn't… doesn't mean I'm not hurt still by this. I know I shouldn't… but I just feel… feel inferior."

"Well, you shouldn't." Winter pushed a hand into her face, letting out a laugh that was more like a sob. "Now I'm going to have to fix my makeup before the meeting." Waving away that observation, she stood straighter, looking down at Ruby with a wrung-out, haunted expression.

"You think if anyone else had done what you did to me while I was talking to him, I would have pushed through it? Would have continued play? I would have kicked them out of my life completely. Never to come back. It's just… maybe, if we had discussed it beforehand, it would be another story. But you made an assumption that because I was still turned on from our play before he came in, that you could just… start in on me. And I thought I could handle it, so I didn't really try to stop you, and then…" Her head hung. "And then I was too ashamed of enjoying it to ask. I didn't want to admit it was happening, or… I don't know."

Now sadness was starting to return with a vengeance. She didn't even want to look at Winter in that moment. Seeing the damage she had done would be far too much for her heart. She had come to settle things, to pursue an incredible relationship; this was the last thing she wanted. To not just have muddled things, but to have learned she had hurt her in their previous session. She couldn't take that.

"I really am sorry," she repeated, finally unlocking the door of her car. "I-I… I don't deserve you. I'm sorry I ruined everything."

And with that, she got in, belting up and starting it before she could even reply. She needed to get back home, somewhere she could deal with her feelings.

But Winter wasn't quite finished, it seemed. Through the pane of glass and over the roar of the engine, she could just barely hear, "Ruby? Ruby, I…" And then more words that weren't loud enough.

Not loud enough to stop her. As tempting as it was to turn back, Ruby stuck to her intent, driving past Winter and out to the main road. She wanted to look back, but knew the pain would only be too great if she did. Through tearful eyes, she made her way home.

----------------------------

Penny had just returned from a job interview herself. Everything had gone quite well; they really responded well to her attitude and politeness, and said they were excited to contact her soon! Her mood felt impenetrably positive. Maybe their lives were about to go smoothly, after all.

That was, until she heard the tires squealing and the car screeching to a halt in the driveway. Someone else was not having quite as good a day. Soon enough, the door swung open. Ruby was certainly glad that she had dropped her father off before all this began; she couldn't deal with him right now. All she wanted to do was lay down and cry.

And that's what she did. Assuming that her girlfriend was still out, she went straight to the living room, throwing herself across the sofa and snatching the nearest cushion, cuddling into it as closely as she could and began to let the tears flow. Finally she could sob as loudly as she wanted, out of view from anyone who would judge her too harshly.

At least she assumed so. It was several minutes before Penny approached from the kitchen, walking softly enough in her socks that she wasn't heard. But she finally whispered in a fearful tone, "Ruby?"

Ruby gasped. Sniffing and wiping away the few tears, she turned to face her, just managing to strain her voice. "H-hey. I didn't know you were back."

"You don't have to pretend you weren't crying for me," Penny told her very simply as she knelt by the couch. "What's the matter?"

Joining Penny was a small grey Corgi, tail wiggling away as he looked up at her. Seemed he too could sense something was wrong. Mostly in need of something to cuddle other than a cushion, she shifted over on the sofa to sit upright. After picking up Zwei to place him on her lap, she patted the space by her side, inviting Penny up.

"Things went… really wrong."

Penny did join her, sliding an arm around the small of her partner's back. "In what way?"

While her hands were occupied with Zwei, she leaned against Penny instead, nuzzling her head right into her neck as she sniffed again. She barely even knew where to start! "So many, Penny. I… I fucked up. Badly."

"Shhh, shhh," Penny soothed her, hand petting along her back. "You're okay. It's okay, I'm sure you didn't mean to do whatever you did. I know you better than that, Ruby."

"I did though…" Sniffing again, she tried to nuzzle even closer. "It was something I did… I pushed the limits, I went too far…"

And with that, she went on to explain everything. She explained the session, where she had managed to get Winter off with her father right there in the room. She then explained what happened when she went over to tell her how she felt, how it turned out Winter's roommate was Qrow all this time, and how he was also doing sessions with her. In the end, she ended up crying again, whimpering as she cuddled Zwei closer.

Penny let her weep for some time before she bothered to respond. Minutes had gone by with her doing no more than shushing her and petting along her back. When Ruby's voice finally got a little less distraught, her sobs quieter, she spoke up.

"So… I promise I will try to be impartial. You both have very good points."

"I completely screwed it up, Pen," she confessed, sniffing once more. "How could I be so selfish? I should have asked her before doing that. And with Qrow I… I don't even know."

"You should have asked, yes. Personally, I find the idea of doing that in front of anyone's relatives to be disgusting, but I understand it was the heat of the moment… and that for other people, it's not the same as for me." She was being completely matter-of-fact, never taking her hand away from Ruby's back as she explained her point of view.

"I know… I know I just… I wasn't thinking. I guess I…" Blinking again, she didn't know what to really say. There was no defence for her actions; she crossed the line, that was that. "I guess I was trying to prove that I'm brave, a-and sexy? Not some… some little girl who thinks she’s grown up just because I’m over twenty-one."

"I'm sure she doesn't see you as a little girl, Ruby." Kissing the top of her head, Penny went on, "As for Qrow, I can see both sides of the issue. I don't really think either one of you is 'wrong' in this situation. Even if Winter should have considered telling you to make sure no one was left feeling uncomfortable, it wasn't an obligation; from what I understand, most Dom-sub relationships have sort of an unwritten 'non-disclosure agreement', don't they?"

"But my uncle?!" Thankfully, Ruby had calmed down a little more. Being nuzzled up to her girlfriend while having a warm pooch on her lap was certainly helping. Idly petting through his soft fur, she sighed. "I know it's dumb. But it just makes me think dumb things. What if she was sleeping with my dad? With Yang? I thought… thought she would understand why I was flipping out."

"I'm guessing that she expected you would feel this way if you found out. So she didn't tell you." Shrugging, Penny also reached over to scratch Zwei's flank. "But I definitely understand your feelings. If I found out my partner was sleeping with anyone in my family, I… well, I honestly can't say how I would react. But I wouldn't be thrilled."

"It's not the whole idea of 'I've put my mouth where my uncle’s dick has been', like I think she thinks. Like, that’s definitely gross, but she can sleep with who she wants." There was no other way to put it, as much as she wanted to word it better for Penny. Sighing as she scratched behind the dog's ear, she looked at the ground blankly. "It's… different. I can't explain why, or how, but it's the feeling that I’m not good enough, or something, so she needs someone else. Is that weird to think?"

Frowning, Penny turned to her. "But didn't you say she told you that she cares for you, after all? I mean, I know it was in the middle of an argument, but it's still her feelings."

"I know… but why should she care now?" Able to feel the tears returning again, she moved one of her hands to Penny's shoulder, using it to hug her move closely. "She said she cared, I told her I want more, she wanted the same… but I more or less spat in her face and made it all about me. I don't deserve love after that."

"What are you saying? Of course you deserve love!" With a quiet sigh, she embraced Ruby back, nuzzling into her head. "Of course you were both upset about this happening, and an argument occurred. Maybe in a few days, when things have calmed down-"

"I don't think so, Penny," she whimpered. The hand on her shirt began to grip tightly as she took in a few more shaky breaths. "If she poured her heart out to me and I cared only about myself; then what good would I be to her? I'm surprised you put up with me sometimes…"

"Don't do that to yourself," Penny admonished gently. "You were very upset. I understand that, and Winter probably did, as well. But if you want to take some time away… I will understand that, too. This is a unique situation." Kissing her head again, she added in a soft whisper, "And I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry."

Another few shaky breaths, and Ruby found herself leaning against Penny fully. The grip on her shirt loosened again, now that she was positive Penny wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Still, she wasn't in the mood to make herself feel any better. "I seriously don't know why you put up with me… I vent to you about all this stuff that shouldn't matter, about other people, other sexual situations. God… I just feel so selfish."

"And I didn't want you to start dating Winter. That felt very selfish. Human beings are selfish creatures, Ruby. Being selfless isn't the goal; it's to acknowledge your selfish desires as what they are, and work past them. That's all we can hope to do."

"You… didn't?" Taken aback, Ruby backed away from her lover for a moment, looking her in the eyes. "Then… why did you let me? I asked you if you were okay with it, and you said ‘yes’. Are you… really not okay with it?"

Penny laughed at her confusion and fear, but it was a gentle laugh. "Yes, I am. Because I want you to be happy. But that's not the same as wanting you to date her. Like if you donate blood; you don't actually want someone to stab you with a needle and drain part of you away. But you do want the other person to have the blood they need. That's far more important than worrying about your own momentary discomfort." In an undertone, she added, "Which is why I try to get to the Red Cross a few times a year."

"But… me having feelings for her…" Shuffling a little more was enough to prompt Zwei to finally hop off her, scampering straight into the kitchen afterwards. Ruby continued to look at Penny, still checking. "You know that means I'd be treating her the same as you, right? As in, romantically? That's what… what I meant when I asked."

"I see." Debating inwardly for a moment, she said, "Would you treat me as lesser than Winter? As inferior to her?"

"No way!" she reassured, finding herself gripping her shoulder again. "Absolutely not. You'd both be the same. Sure, I'd see you more, because I want to live with you; but neither of you will be inferior, I could never do that to you."

"Then why would I have a problem with that? You're happy, and you care about me the way I care about you. That's fine with me. Even if you end up dating three other women, as long as I don't get forgotten, I see no reason to be upset."

Continuing to stare a moment, Ruby was close enough to tears again. She really did have the perfect girlfriend, even if she didn't have Winter in the end. Perhaps there was still a chance, but perhaps not. Either way, Penny would be by her side. She leaned forward, kissing her lips firmly. Penny didn't hesitate in the slightest to return the kiss, pulling Ruby in as close as was possible. Grateful to have her home, and to have helped console her at least somewhat. Her hands drifted up and down her back, then settled into squeeze her even tighter.

When they broke apart, Penny whispered, "Listen. Whether or not anything was anyone's fault, you've obviously had an upsetting day. Why don't you sit back and let me make you some chicken soup and a grilled cheese sandwich? I won't even make you eat Daiya this time!"

"When you cook it, Daiya tastes fine! It's just when I try it… Well, the bathroom got a few visits from me." She hesitantly began to let her go, but before Penny could leave the room, she asked, "Maybe we could put on a movie too? I think Frozen is on Netflix…"

The ginger shook her head as she stood up, smiling. "You always reach for Disney when you're down. Set it up while I get cooking." Once reaching the door to the kitchen, she looked back. "And Ruby?"

Just as she fetched the remote and sat back down, she looked back toward her girlfriend. "Yeah?"

In her usual, oddly formal singing voice, she started singing, "I love you more today, than yesterday…" Even once she had backed into the kitchen, she kept going: "But not as much as tomorrow…"

Her girlfriend belting out oldies was all it took for Ruby to finally smile again. And she did as she nuzzled back down in the sofa, setting up Netflix. At least now Ruby was in lighter spirits, she could focus on what they were to do in the future; what she should do in regards to Winter. That was, if she even wanted to pursue her after this.

But at least Penny was still with her, and didn’t even hate her for figuring out she might be polyamorous. That would see her through anything to come.

----------------------------

Winter was exhausted down to the bone by the time she returned from her meeting. Everything had gone quite swimmingly; a new and promising young singer looked to be interested in signing to their label. That was good for business.

And so what if she had lost Ruby? It had never been a truly permanent arrangement. The whole idea was only to train her to be a better sub and then hand her off to another, trustworthy Dom. There was no sense in getting upset about it.

Except there is, an inner voice kept whispering. You liked her. You both liked each other a great deal…

Shaking her head, she stepped off the elevator and strode purposefully to her apartment door. Working herself up about it again would solve nothing. It didn't before the meeting, when she bawled in the car and made herself even later by having to touch up her makeup again, and there was no evidence that it would now.

Sat on the sofa by the time she got back was her roommate. As usual, with a bottle of non-alcoholic beer in his hand, and watching an old sitcom on TV. Nothing there had changed, at least. No doubt, however, she would have wished he was in bed, rather than sat there to remind her of the offer she had given before she left.

But that reminder never came. Instead, he watched as she entered the room and kicked her shoes off, barely saying a word. Other than, "Good meeting?"

"Fine." The answer was curt and simple. Turning toward the kitchen, she asked, "Are there any more of those in the refrigerator?"

"I think there's a couple in there. None of the real stuff, though." Unusual. Winter never particularly enjoyed beer. That was one sure sign that something was wrong. But rather than pry for now, he shuffled to one side of the sofa, giving plenty of room for her to sit when she returned. "What's the occasion, Snowbird? Run outta wine?"

"Need something stronger, and I don't want to uncork a bottle, and deal with the cork potentially breaking or… or whatever." Plopping down next to him, she took a healthy swig. "Ohhh, what a day."

"Thought you said the meeting went well?" Right away, he put his arm down across the back of the sofa behind her. Although he made no attempt to pull her in just yet, he was clearly showing he was there for her somehow. "Wanna tell a dusty old Qrow about it?"

Though it was only scarcely bemused, she did snort at his remark. "Not particularly. I… think this is something I'll have to handle alone."

She had been raising her bottle again, but after speaking the last word, she hesitated. Froze in place. Looking toward her rather than the TV, he seemed to question things in his own head for a moment. That was until eventually, after another swig, he tilted his head.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your little 'friend' in the bathroom earlier, would it?"

Slowly, her head swung around to point at him. "My… what?" Gulping, she looked away again. "What did you see?"

More than anything, Qrow was amused. That much was shown by the small smirk on his face. "I saw a beady little silver eye spying on me when I went back to my room. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't know too many people with silver eyes. Do you?"

Immediately, she lowered her head to look into the mouth of her bottle, trembling with the effort of keeping her reactions calm. "I see. So… you know. What's been going on."

For a moment, he tried to distract himself by swirling the bottle a few times. It wasn't a situation he cared to talk about too much, but now that it was in the open, there was no choice. It would do no good reacting the same way Ruby did. Instead, he let out the breath he was holding. "If it helps, I've known way longer than she has."

"What? You… how could you have? We were both very careful! What did we mess up? How did you know?"

Putting the bottle down on the coffee table rather than distracting himself any further, he shifted his position more to face her. "You were careful, but you forget I'm a veteran. I can't exactly shut off noticing the small things. Like a couple of missed calls and texts coming through while your phone's been on the table." Lowering his head slightly, he added, "Or seeing her in the parking lot a couple of times just before I headed to Tai's."

Her mouth flattened into a thin line for a moment. Then she whispered, "I might be angry with you for lingering to see who I was with… if I weren't clearly the villain of this story."

"I never lingered. I noticed," he corrected. Although as he shifted back into a comfortable position again, he confessed, "Only time it counts as snooping was when I listened after I saw that beady eye. Didn’t hear much, but I get the picture; you like her."

"Oh, did you follow us down to the garage?" Winter demanded. "That would be the only way you could have heard that part. We didn't discuss much in the apartment today."

"Winter, I'm not attacking you here," he reassured her, leaving a moment for her to calm down before he spoke again. "I heard how she was talking, then how you responded; it made sense. If you didn't like her that way, you'd just kick her out when she got pissy. Over and done with."

Looking down again, she contemplated his words. Took another swig to give herself more time. Then she whispered, "If you knew… then why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you confront me, tell me to stop? I'm… you should have heard her screaming at me. She hates me now."

It was a fair point. Why didn't he? All this time, he knew his niece was getting involved with his standing fuckbuddy, but never said a word. In fact, he left more often, made it easier for Ruby to come over – for them to have sessions.

"It's not my place to tell you what, or who, you do," he started, picking his own drink back up. "I figured she must be giving you something you need, considering you've been in much better moods for a while. You're doing it when I'm out and I’ve never had to even see you guys hug, let alone anything worse, so I see no problem here. It’s… a little weird, yeah, but could be worse."

"It doesn't matter now. But… I appreciate your discretion." The tears were falling, even though she had been clamping down on her emotions, straining to keep herself from letting anything through. "Sh-she's gone now, and… and you don't have to worry… because she hates m-me, and… it doesn't m-matter anymo- anym-mo-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Almost as soon as he had picked the drink up again he found himself having to put it back down to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his welcoming grasp. No moment was spared before he ended up stroking her hair, remembering that was one of the few ways to calm her down completely. But from the shaking of her voice, he could tell she would need more than a simple hug.

"What's wrong with me?" she growled into his shoulder finally, at least two minutes later. "Why am I s-so… insane?! I hate myself, I can't even h-handle the only th-thing… I work, and I take care of her, and y-you take care of me, and I was happy, and n-now it's all wrong!"

"Nothing is wrong with you, ya hear me?" He continued to pet her hair, scratching gently at her scalp to help speed up the soothing process. "She'll get over it. Ruby doesn't hold grudges. She's just… she'll just be a li’l squirmy because she found out her uncle is still getting frisky in the sheets, that's all."

"I'm disgusting!" she half-screamed into his shirt. It seemed that now that she had let loose her emotions, they would keep coming relentlessly. "Y-you're family, I should never have let this happen! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I don't know what I thought, I just liked the way everything was! You're both so important to m-me!"

"Stop that." He couldn't bear to hear her talk about herself that way when she was already dealing with so much. Holding her head delicately, he pressed his lips against her forehead, leaving a gentle kiss there. "And you're important to both of us, even if she's a little upset. You're not disgusting. You're human, and so is she. You both make mistakes."

Shaking her head, she whispered, "I shouldn't have told her. I was never going to tell her how I felt, I… had to be ready to let her go when she w-wanted to move on. But I failed, she… she dragged it out of me." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she pulled back a little to whisper, "I thought I learned my lesson after… after Yang… but I'm still trying to control everything…"

"Hey come on, this is hardly comparable to… that. She may be Yang's sister, but I very much doubt that kind of thing would happen again." After a while, he started to relax his hold on her, just enough to give her the freedom of laying however she wanted against him. "I know Rubes. She'll be fine after a while. Right now, she's in shock, but then she'll be all over you like white on rice once she realises she was an dope for reacting how she did. Give it a few days."

"Is she, though?" The corner of her mouth twitched up hopefully. Fearfully. "I… know it can't be the best news you've ever found out, that I'm sleeping with both of you. But you really didn't hate me for it?"

"I'm not exactly pleased, put it that way. But I'm not going to scream at you for it. Like I said, it's not my choice who you do." Though his own mouth began to twitch into a smile. "So long as it's not while I'm here, of course."

"It never has been," she swore to him, face completely serious. "It wasn't today, either; she… she came here unannounced. I didn't…" Her face fell again, but she didn't fall to crying again. Not quite. "It might be my own wishful thinking, but I'm almost positive she came purely to confess her feelings."

"Ah… well, that makes things a little more awkward," he admitted, scratching the back of his head as he thought. Although he and Winter were on closer terms than most Dom-sub relationships, it wasn't more than that. He could tell it wasn't on Ruby's level. "Well… what did you tell her?"

Pursing her lips, she sighed and said, "You came home before I got the chance to answer her properly. But… I think I let it slip when we were arguing." She looked away. "Not that it matters. I don't know anything about… those kind of feelings, anyway."

Tilting his head, Qrow went to swirl his own bottle of beer once more to check if there was enough in there to make it worth drinking. "The way you try to clean up my sorry ass all the time says otherwise. And I'm… well, me." He shrugged his shoulders, giving her a light smile. "Just because you've never had this sorta thing before doesn't mean you can’t. Or shouldn’t try."

Winter thought upon that while he drank, head down and expression strained. Turning to the side, she whispered, "I am… too broken to be that person for anyone. Even a second person for Ruby. You and I work because we don't expect those feelings from each other; friendship and blowing off steam, we can handle. I can handle." Her eyes began to stream, despite that she wasn't truly crying. "And it's selfish for me to want to be with someone who I can't give my heart to… since I don't have one."

Rather than reply with words, he instead looked straight at her. Then after a moment, he placed his free hand against her neck, caressing it gently. Checking something surreptitiously. "You got a pretty quick pulse right now for someone with no heart, then, you know that?"

"Don't make light of me!" she breathed, but there was no real power in her words. "I'm… rotted fruit, damaged goods! I know I'm not technically dead, but… but what's the point in trying to sell someone defective merchandise?!"

"You need to stop doing that to yourself, Snowbird." Seeing that wasn't working, he finished the last of his beer and set it down before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close so he could cuddle and kiss her forehead again. "You went through a lot of shit; I know that, she knows that. But you’re blaming the wrong person; those guys are the broken assholes. You’re not ‘damaged goods’, you're a person; a person who made a mistake. A human."

Winter couldn't deny that his words made sense, even if they felt wrong in her heart. So she spent a few minutes simply crying up against his chest, drinking in the comfort he offered.

"She has Penny," was the simple statement she offered when she could. "I… don't know why she would want me, too. But… thank you for s-saying what you said."

"You really gotta stop putting yourself down," he repeated, still gently stroking her back and leaving the occasional kiss in her hair. "I mean it. You always talk about yourself in such a bad light… but there's a lot of good in you, Winter. Just wish you could see it."

"All that good is me trying to make up for all the bad." Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her hair. "And unless you really want to thrash me with the whip tonight, I… don't know if I'm up for anything. Sorry."

Another smile pulled at his lips as he pulled her in closer a moment, speaking sarcastically. "Oh no, we don't get to bang it out tonight because you're too upset. Oh woe is me, I'll have to get myself off before I go to sleep. What a cruel world."

Laughing against her own desire to do so, she said, "I'd help, but… for some reason, I don't think I should tonight. For her." Then she sighed, rubbing at his broad back through his shirt. "But you don't have to leave the room for it, if that'll help."

"Hey, you need a good cuddling before I need to strangle the snake. So that's what you're gonna get. Priorities." This time when he reached over, it was for the TV remote, which he held out to Winter. "So choose what we're watching, and we'll just lay here and let the rest of the planet worry about itself for a while, alright?"

Even as she was still settling in against him, she asked, "You really want to hang out with somebody this mopey?" When she got no answer, she went for a different question. "Are… you okay with Harry Potter?"

#Lady Stardust #ruby x winter #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants #nsfw-Text

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