#because she took all my care and kindness and then left me to raise myself when i needed her. both intentionally and not

[not-the-grave]

the depth of abandonment trauma i'm discovering i have is kind of insane

[chrattvibe]

៹New experience. nerd!matt.

situationship, suggestive content, smoking, dealer!chris cameo.

I never really overthought things when it came to her.

But today, I found myself folding the same blanket over and over again, and making sure the cushions on the couch were fluffy enough.

I wasn’t nervous. Not that. But yeah… excited.

She’d never been here before. I’d never brought her. Not because I didn’t want to, but because Nick and Chris were always around, and I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Besides, what we had wasn’t really something to show off yet. Not quite.

I left the blanket neatly draped over the back of the couch just as I heard Chris’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Matt? You’re still taking Nick and me to—wow.” He stopped dead when he walked into the living room “Are we... expecting guests?”

I nodded, plopping down on the couch, taking in the spotless living room.

It’s not like I’d gone crazy cleaning —we’re not that messy— but I wanted everything to be just right for her.

Chris raised an eyebrow and gave me a sly smile.

“Is she coming over?”

“Yeah. I invited her for dinner. You guys might have to take an Uber back.”

Chris grabbed a can from the fridge and sat back down on the couch. He slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a simple ziplock baggie. A well-rolled joint inside.

“I was gonna leave this for you. If you’re still thinking about it, that is.”

I took it carefully. It was the same strain he’d told me about, the mellow one. No paranoia, no getting stuck on the couch. Perfect for a first try.

I’d been curious for a while. Not because of pressure or something like that, just... because.

“Is this the same stuff you mentioned the other day?”

“Yeah. Mellow. Smooth. Good first trip.” He leaned on the edge of the couch, looking at me “You don’t have to do it today, obviously. But I’m giving it to you before I forget. I’ve had it in my pocket for like— days.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks man. Maybe I’ll try it tonight, with her.”

“No problem. Just… be careful. It’s not strong, but don’t jump right in.”

I laughed, looking down. “Thanks for the trust.”

Chris laughed too but lowered his voice a bit. “Anyway, you’re taking Nick and me to Sam’s, right? Nick’s almost ready.”

“Yeah, I’ll drop you guys off there and then come pick her up.”

Chris nodded and went back to his room.

I stood there a second, looking at the baggie in my hand. Then I headed to my room and slipped it into the top drawer of my nightstand. Checked the time.

Almost six.

I changed quickly. Something nicer than the old shirt I was wearing.

Simple. Comfortable. But with style-ish.

A few minutes later, the three of us were already at the door. We headed to the car. I dropped them off at our friend Sam’s place and then drove to her house.

The ride over was short. When I saw her step out of the building—with a tote bag slung over her shoulder and her hair a little messy—she gave me one of those quiet smiles that don’t say much but still leave me feeling soft. She always carried that kind of energy. The kind that makes you feel lighter just by being around her.

We chatted a bit while I drove. Talked about not much, what we’d done during the day, or just hummed the song playing in the background. That playlist we made with a mix of her favorite songs and mine. The city was already fading away with that slow Saturday evening rhythm. The car lights, the buildings. Everything had that kind of golden hue that made her look even more beautiful.

When we arrived, I opened the door for her and she went in first, shyly. No need to say anything. She already knew Chris and Nick wouldn’t be there, but she still raised an eyebrow at the quiet in the apartment. A quiet so delicate, so fragile.

“So, you said your brothers went out?”

“I dropped them off before coming to get you. Come on in. The place is all yours. Well… ours.”

Her shyness disappeared as we went upstairs and she felt the familiar atmosphere. It made me smile how she looked around like a curious little kid.

She took off her jacket and tote bag on the sofa like she’d done it a thousand times before. And I liked that. That she didn’t need permission.

“Nice place... smells pretty good.”

“Not gonna lie, I sprayed some air freshener.” —I laughed, tossing my jacket next to hers.— “Thanks for noticing.”

She walked around the living room with silent curiosity.

“So... living room, kitchen. The bathroom is over there, and my room next to it.” I explained, pointing out the parts of the house. “Nick’s room is upstairs and Chris’s downstairs.”

She stopped in the kitchen, looked at some drawings stuck on the fridge, then at some family photos.

“Is this you?” she asked, pointing at a picture of me and my brothers when we were kids.

I came up behind her and rested my chin on her shoulder.

“Close. That’s Nick, that’s Chris, and that’s me.” She laughed trying to find the differences in our faces. She failed.

She slowly turned around and our faces were close, but we said nothing. She just stayed there, looking at me for a second. Then, with that quiet ease she always had, she kissed me on the cheek. Walked past me like nothing, heading for the couch.

“Now what?”

“We can do whatever you want. I can put on some music, or we can watch a movie...” I sat next to her. Well, I lay down, resting my head on her lap. She stroked my hair.

We ended up eating something simple but tasty. She sat on the counter while I handled the pan. Together, we made mac and cheese.

We laughed a lot. Ate on the couch, for once we actually pay attention to the movie playing in the background. It was sweet when we got scared and she clung a little tighter to my shirt.

Then we put on some YouTube videos to shake off the scares from the movie, and those just became background noise. We talked over the audio the whole time. About anything. Our stuff, silly things. Some homework, a weird dream she’d had the night before, how she’d totally steal one of my hoodies next time and never give it back. I kind of liked the idea, honestly.

Afterwards, the dishes stayed on the coffee table. She lay down with her legs over mine, and I made room to get comfortable. It felt like her scent was settling into my clothes. I hoped I’d still catch traces of it tomorrow.

We stayed quiet for a long while. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was one of those heavy silences that don’t ask for anything. She fiddled with one of my hands, and I absentmindedly stroked her knee with my thumb. Her eyes were half-closed, head resting against the backrest, body loose like she weighed nothing. I liked seeing her like that—calm, comfortable in my home. In our night.

“Hey,” I said quietly, eyes still on her legs. “So, uh… Chris gave me something the other day. Like, a… little joint? Or whatever you call it.” I scratched the back of my neck, already kind of smiling at how dumb I probably sounded.

She barely turned her head towards me without leaving the couch. She looked at me with a mix of tenderness and surprise. She smiled. “I didn't know you smoked.”

“I don’t, but we were talking and I told him that I was curious. He said it was super chill. One of his lightest ones, really.” —I finally glanced at her.— “I don’t know. Thought maybe... if you felt like it... we could try it together?”

She didn’t answer right away. She sat up a bit straighter but kept her legs over mine. Her gaze was soft, one of those that don’t rush you.

“If you don’t want to, it’s no big deal, no pressure—”

“You wanna do it with me?” —she interrupted.

“Yeah,” I answered immediately “I think it’d be fun. Doing it with you. Chris said it’s not too strong anyway... but if you don’t want to, forget I said anything.”

She smiled like that really made her happy. She placed her hand on my chest as if to calm me before I could say more.

“I love that you want to share that with me. Really. If you want, we’ll take it easy. I’ve smoked once or twice, so I kinda know how it goes. But if at any point you don’t feel like it, we stop.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly “I think that’s what I needed. I feel calmer.” I laughed and looked into her eyes, now more awake than before. “Will you take care of me?” I joked.

She laughed softly and kissed me on the lips. Short, tender. “Of course. Always. Shall we go to the window, or the balcony?”

I got up and headed to my room. Took the baggie out of the nightstand, grabbed a lighter, and came back. We went out to the balcony. The night was nice—slightly cloudy, but the moon still peeked through, almost full. We sat on the floor, legs crossed on the cold tiles, wrapped in the blanket, shoulder to shoulder. She lit the joint with calm, practiced ease—which made me smile. She knew how to do it. Took a soft first drag, then passed it to me with a quiet grin.

“Your turn. Just take a slow drag, hold it in for a couple of seconds, then let it out gently. Don’t inhale too fast or too deep, it might make you cough.”

“You're not gonna laugh if I cough, right?”

“I won’t, I swear.” she was already smiling.

I took a short drag. Felt the smoke in my throat and forced myself not to rush. Didn’t cough. We looked at each other. She gave me a small applause with her hands. “Amazing!”

We laughed together. Stayed silent a few more seconds. She looked at me, knees to chest, joint still in hand. Passed it back with a calm gesture.

“All good?” she asked, adjusting the blanket around us.

“Yeah, all the same. I guess I should feel something soon, right?”

“You’re supposed to feel like... lighter after a bit,” she whispered softly, like she didn’t want to break the warm air between us. “Maybe everything will seem funnier, or you’ll start thinking deep thoughts. Sometimes it just makes you hungry. Every body is different. But it’s chill. If you feel weird at any point, tell me and we’ll fix it.”

I nodded, half distracted. Minutes later, I was already feeling something.

I didn’t know if it was the effect or the moment, but the world seemed to have gotten softer. Like the air had become denser and slower, but without weight. Like time stretched between phrase and phrase.

I took another puff, a bit longer this time. And then I felt it. Like a small wave from my chest to my shoulders. No dizziness. No vertigo. Just a quiet warmth, like the body remembering what it means to be comfortable. I leaned back a little and closed my eyes.

“You okay?” I heard her soft voice.

“Yeah,” I smiled “It’s nice. I feel like... more inside myself.” I laughed at how silly that sounded. “Pause. Does that make sense?”

She chuckled softly. “It does. That’s a good way to put it. I feel the same.”

I opened my eyes and looked at her. She looked beautiful with the moonlight on her face. And not just beautiful. Her face and eyes seemed to shine brighter than usual. Her perfume smelled a bit stronger and her voice sounded softer. I wanted to tell her all that and more, but I didn’t. I just kept looking.

I reached out and caressed her cheek. The touch felt different too. I can’t really explain how, but it felt light. I slid my hand down her neck, shoulder, and arm. Then tucked some hair behind her ear. She rested her head on my shoulder and we let time stretch a little longer.

“Shall we go back inside?” she whispered.

I nodded. —it's getting cold.— Got up slowly, and she did too. She carefully put out the joint and we went in.

The house was silent. The only sounds were the leftover noises from the videos playing automatically on YouTube and a distant horn from the street. I closed the balcony door and when I turned around, she was there, in front of me, fixing her hair. She slowly came closer. Ran her hands over my shoulders. Looked at me like she already knew.

“I really like you, y'know?”

I smiled. “Me too. A lot.” —I placed my hands on her waist.— “Everything good?”

“Better than good.”

I rested my forehead on hers. I liked feeling her close. No rush. Just that: being close. The fabric felt strange, but her skin felt better so I slid my hands under the hoodie I’d lent her, finding the warm skin of her waist. I squeezed a little.

She came closer. Her lips brushed mine lightly, and I responded slowly. We kissed calmly. Like no one was expecting anything, but everything was there.

Everything felt more intense. More present. The fabric of my own clothes. The way she breathed between kisses. The warmth. It was just her and me in the middle of the living room.

I laughed quietly without meaning to.

“What?”

“Nothing. You feel good.”

We kept walking without letting go until the couch caught us without asking, softening our fall. We fell clumsily, giggling, still half-hugged. She ended up lying on top of me, one leg between mine and her hands resting on my chest.

I felt every part of her body like mine was recognizing it for the first time. The warmth on her thighs. The touch of her hands on my neck. The way her laughter-breath grazed my jaw.

My hands settled on her waist again. Her skin was warm, soft. I ran my fingers slowly down her back, not thinking much about it. Everything made me want to keep going. It was like there was no such thing as rush. Just her, with me, so close.

We kissed again, deeper. Slow but heavier. I could feel how she clung tighter to my shirt with every kiss, how she tilted her head to find me better. I loved that: the way she searched for more.

I’m not used to this. To letting myself go. I usually think everything three times before doing something. But with her, it just doesn’t happen. And I like not having to think so much.

Without realizing it, we adjusted better. She straddled me, lying on my body.

I slid my hands down her back to her ribs. I felt her skin goosebump when I brushed the edge of her bra with my thumbs. She said nothing. Just pressed closer to me.

My head was kind of delayed. Not for lack of desire, but because my body spoke clearer than my thoughts. Every movement felt big. Like the touch of her mouth was the only thing that mattered.

She lowered one hand down my chest slowly to the edge of my pants. I shuddered. Not from surprise, but from how good it all felt. From the feeling and desire.

Clothes started to bother us. In an unspoken agreement, she raised her arms and I took off the hoodie and shirt together. It was the first time I saw her with so little on. I felt almost overwhelmed, but in a good way, like hypnotized. Took a split second to help her get out of my shirt too.

We stayed there, looking at each other for a few seconds, like analyzing one another. I rested my forehead on her collarbone. Kissed there, eyes closed. Then on her neck. Then on the edge of her jaw.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I said, more out of need than choice. “I’m crazy 'bout you.”

She smiled but said nothing. She leaned down a bit more to kiss me, and our hips met with more intention.

My hands went down her thighs, squeezing her skin over the fabric. We moved slowly, like time had become slower and more ours. I thought about saying something. About slowing it down. But there was nothing to slow yet. We both stretched the moment, the feeling. Just that rich intensity growing between us, like we knew exactly how far we wanted to go.

My hands instinctively went for the back of her bra—hers found my waistband again. A soft moan escaped me, overwhelmed by the feeling of having her like this: exposed, all over me, all mine.

But a part of my mind flicked a warning light. A small but firm voice. Not yet. Not like this.

“We— we shouldn’t...” I whispered, breath heavy, forehead still resting on her collarbone. I didn’t move. I couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to.

She stayed still for a second. Then lowered her head to look into my eyes.

“Why?” she asked softly. No reproach in her tone. Just calm curiosity. Care.

I swallowed. It was hard to form the words, not because I didn’t know what I felt, but because I didn’t want to break that moment.

“Because we’re both kinda... well, high,” I said, with a small, almost shy smile. Got a giggle from her “It feels incredible, but I don’t want it to be like that. Not the first time…”

I let my hands slide slowly down her back, landing on her hips. “I want to be fully present. I want to remember everything. No doubt about anything.”

She didn’t say anything right away. She looked at me like she was saving that forever. Then she smiled. Slow. Beautiful.

“Okay.” she whispered. Clasped her hands behind my neck. “Thank you, I like that you think that.”

She kissed my forehead, and I buried myself a little deeper into her neck. I felt embarrassed to stop everything. Like I’d ruined something. But she gently pulled me out of it before the feeling could settle.

Her hands stroked my back, moving up and down calmly. Kissed the top of my head and stayed with me, silent. We didn’t need to do anything else. Just feel close.

The heat from before was still there, between us hugged but now calmer. Kinder. The lingering effect of the joint starting to show. The head lighter. The body loose. She had goosebumps, and I realized just as I ran my fingers along her arm.

“Are you cold?” She nodded slowly. I sat up and grabbed the clothes I’d taken off her earlier. Put it on her gently, like her body was a doll’s. She let me, with a silly smile.

We went back to the couch, this time more dressed, less fired up. But still close. I put on some calm music on the TV. She curled up against me. We talked about how we felt after smoking that, I told her I was glad I did it with her. She enjoyed it too.

We both started feeling a little hungry, and I mentally thanked my brothers for not finishing the ice cream left in the freezer. We sat on the couch, legs crossed, facing each other, sharing a tub of ice cream from the same spoon.

We laughed out loud more than once, talking nonsense here and there. We stole a couple of kisses with the excuse that the other had a bit of ice cream on the corner of their lips.

The ice cream slowly ran out. We both already felt more like ourselves. Like everything before had happened in slow motion and now the world had returned to its normal speed.

She was lying on her side, head resting on the arm of the couch. She rubbed her eyes slowly, like admitting sleep was starting to win was hard.

“Are you sleepy?” I asked with a giggle.

“A little bit,” she admitted, sitting up straighter. “But good. Still feel everything… kinda soft.”

I nodded. Me too. But without the tingling anymore. Just that nice tiredness that comes after a good night.

I checked the time. Almost one in the morning.

“I’d invite you to stay,” I said, half-joking, half-serious, “but I know you don’t like leaving your cat alone for too long.”

She laughed and rested her face on my chest. “That’s true. He’s probably already in bed. He’ll hate me tomorrow.”

“Should I take you home, then?”

“I don’t want you to drive. You must be tired too… I’ll take an Uber.”

“No, you won’t.” I said, laughing but firm. I reached over to rub her back. “If you want, we can walk. It’s not that far. Let’s get some air, what do you think?”

She looked at me with tenderness. “Okay. Let’s walk.”

I put on my hoodie, grabbed the keys, and we went down together. It was a bit chilly outside, but that nice kind of cold that doesn’t bother you. It didn’t feel too much. My hand rested on her waist as we walked silently half the way. No need to say much.

“Thanks for tonight,” she smiled. “You made me feel really good... comfortable."

“I had a really good time too,” I answered. “Thanks for… just being there. Beyond what we smoked, the whole night was amazing.”

She smiled. Didn’t say anything else, just came closer and gave me a slow, soft kiss that left my chest full of that quiet warmth that can’t be explained.

“Let me know when you get home,” she said before going in.

“I will.” I promised.

I watched her get in the elevator and stayed for a second longer, hands in pockets, biting back a smile.

Then I started walking again. Slow, calm. I felt like we’d taken a little step forward, a small but steady one.

I remembered we had class together on Monday, and that we’d probably cross paths half-asleep in the hallway. I liked imagining that. Maybe I could bring her the hoodie I lent her today, so she doesn’t complain about the air conditioning being too cold.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the next time I’d see her as I walked home, with the city lights slowly going out. I knew that night she was going to stay with me for a good while.

—Chrattvibe.

Notes: congratufuckinglations if you made it this far. This was supposed to be shorter but it ended up long as fuck. Hope it was worth it and that you liked it💌

masterlist.

taglist.

[maxsimagination]

better boyfriend - c.clark

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: yn is definitely straight…

-> !! cheating, kissing, implied smut !!

-> i’m back.. kind of

𖦹 masterlist

I HAD APPROXIMATELY four hours to get my last assignment of the semester done.

had i started the essay at all? nope.

was i making up the entire thing? yup.

good thing it was only my elective, plus the professor liked me. i was sat at my desk, procrastinating and staring at the screen, willing words to come to my brain.

eventually, i was furiously typing away, suddenly acutely aware of the minutes ticking down. the four hours seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, because now i was saving and submitting my entirely half-assed essay and praying that i had sweet talked my professor enough to get a passing grade.

in celebration, i grabbed my phone, flopped on my bed, and checked all my messages. i had four from cait, ten from the hawkeyes chat and only one from ben, my boyfriend.

“u should come over.”

i scrunched my face at the short text, not liking the way it made me feel.

“i can’t, i have practice tn.”

i typed the message and sent it. within a second, he was typing back.

“just skip, i wanna see u.”

“i can’t skip practice ben. we have finals next week.”

surely he knew this. although at this point i wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. he’s been distant the last month, only talking at night or when he sees me in class, and not paying attention to me at all.

“who cares, it’s just girls with a ball.”

i started typing out an angry message telling him that it was more that. girls with a ball, when he called me. i picked it up and answered curtly.

“what?”

you could clearly hear the irritation in my voice.

“woah, calm down princess. that time of the month or something?”

it took all my strength not to yell at him.

“don’t be a dick. what do you want?”

“just want my girl to come see me tonight. wanna see your cute little ass again.”

his voice made me want to gag. he was trying to hard to be ‘cool.’

“i’m not going to come see you, i’m going to practice.”

“aw, babe. c’mon. you would choose your silly little sport over your own boyfriend?”

he was pushing my limits, and i was about to snap. tears started to pool in my eyes and i willed them back, but the fact my own boyfriend would treat me like this, like a piece of meat.

“yes, i would. and if you actually knew me, or cared about me, you would know it’s more than just a silly little sport.”

i hung up the phone and all the tears came flowing out. this was a long time coming, and i knew he was a piece of shit before this, but i could never bring myself to break up with him.

as i lay on my bed for a bit, i felt lonelier than ever. i just needed a hug. so i did the one thing i knew to do.

i called cait.

she picked up on the first ring, “hey yn, what’s up?”

“can you come over?”

my voice was quieter, slightly wavering from the crying i’d done. cait didn’t hesitate, telling me she’d be right there and hung up.

it was barely five minutes before there was a knock at the door, and cait walked in.

“what’s wrong? who made you cry?”

she questioned me as soon as she saw my tear-stained cheeks. sitting next to me on my bed, she pulled my closer to her until i was sitting on her lap, straddling her waist.

“ben. he doesn’t care about me and only wants me when it’s good for him.”

my voice was muffled through caitlin’s shoulder but she understood what i was trying to say. her hands started drawing patterns on my back while she held me, calming me.

“love, i told you he was no good.”

her words were soft, reminding me that, yet again, i’d chosen a bad apple. i didn’t have anything to respond with so i left her words hanging with a grumble.

then cait leaned down so her mouth was next to my ear.

“i could be a be a better boyfriend than him”

my body stilled, as her hands still held me close. i knew what she was saying was wrong but i couldn’t help but feel a bolt of adrenaline rush to my core.

“you think?”

i was teasing her for sure, raising my head to look her directly in the eye. she stared right back with that smirk of hers.

“i know.”

i grin, leaning closer, not quite close enough to touch but close enough for her to want to.

“kiss me, cait.”

i broke the silence again, daring cait to step over the line of friendship we’d drawn all those years ago.

her lips were soft, but she kissed hard. passionately. intensely. like she wanted to take you right then and there. i wasn’t objecting, almost moaning at her lips alone.

i moved my hands down to her waist, gripping it tighter and moving my hips forward against her.

“pretty girl, if you do that again i might have to take you right here, right now.”

the fire in her eyes conveyed that she wasn’t playing. part of me wanted to do it again and get just that, but this was a new step for both of us and we hadn’t talked about the feelings side of things just yet.

“maybe i will.”

i still wanted to tease her though.

cait kept kissing me and i kept kissing her back, until we had to break apart again for air. she moved her lips down to my neck, littering little pecks everywhere.

“you should just get rid of him.”

cait spoke in between pressing kisses all over my neck and whatever exposed skin she could find, as her hands roamed with free will. i hummed, finding it hard to focus on anything but her touch.

“i will.

but he can wait until i get my fill of my girl.”

[ceyanabbiolo]

𝑮𝑹𝑼𝑫𝑮𝑬 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶 [21]

Welcome to Vivianne Hall, in which....

Julianna De Francis is put together, perfect, and everything Christopher Sturniolo isn’t. He’s reckless, cocky, and the one person who’s always gotten under her skin. Raised in the same elite world but constantly at odds, their rivalry turns into something deeper as tension sparks into something neither expected. In a world obsessed with appearances, falling for each other could cost them everything...

Warnings: angst

Chapter 21: I Miss You, I'm Sorry

── .✦ JULIANNA

I don’t think I’ve ever felt pain like this before.

It’s been a week since the gala, and a week since he looked me in the eyes and walked away like I meant nothing. And since then, I’ve been numb. Paralyzed and trapped in my own body.

I haven’t been to most of my classes. I stopped replying to texts. I don’t even know where my phone is right now. All I know is that I haven’t stepped foot into my communications class, the one he used to walk with me too. I just… can’t.

“Jules, you need to get up.”

Eden’s voice was soft but persistent. I felt the mattress dip as she sat beside me, shaking my shoulder gently. Her tone wasn’t scolding—it was pleading.

“You can’t stay in bed forever,” she said. “You need to get out. Go outside, even if it’s just for a walk. Show that dickhead you’re okay. You can’t let him see you like this.”

“But I’m not okay.”

The words barely escaped me, more breath than sound. But they were true. 

Eden heard me. She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice cracked just a little. “I know, Jules…But this? This isn’t you.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My chest hurt too much to breathe properly, and my body felt heavy. 

“Jules, you can’t stop taking care of yourself just because he left. You need to put on some nice clothes at least.”

But her words felt far away. They didn’t reach the place that had shattered inside me. I felt broken, not in pieces but in spirit. Like my soul had gone silent.

I turned away from her, curling deeper into my blanket, and whispered, “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Eden didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she lay down beside me, resting her head on the same pillow. She didn’t try to fix it; she just stayed.  

“Jules… have you eaten today?” Eden’s voice was quiet, but laced with concern as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hand gently brushing against my blanket-covered arm.

I shook my head slowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “No,” I whispered.

There was a pause, short but heavy, and when I finally glanced at her, her expression had shifted. Her brows were furrowed, mouth slightly parted in disbelief before tightening into something more stern.

“Are you serious?” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You said you’d at least try to eat breakfast. Jules, you promised me. It's practically dinner now.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” I muttered, shrinking further into the pillows. My body felt hollow, like it was folding in on itself. The ache in my chest had swallowed everything else. It was all gone. Replaced by the kind of grief that made time feel meaningless.

“Julianna.” Eden stood now, pacing. “This isn’t just heartbreak anymore. This is you slipping back into something I know you’ve fought so hard to crawl out of. Don’t do this to yourself. Not again.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t wipe them. I didn’t even flinch. I just stared at the crack in the ceiling like it might offer me peace. “I don’t care.”

Eden stopped pacing. “Well, I do. I care. And if Chris actually gave a damn, he’d care too. You told me he helped you get through this.”

At the mention of his name, my chest tightened until it physically hurt. My lips trembled, but I said nothing.

“He was acting,” I said, sighing. 

Eden knelt down beside me now, her voice softer. “Jules, I get it. He broke you. But you’re not just some girl who can fall apart like this and disappear.”

“I don’t feel like myself,” I said, my voice cracking. “I feel like he took a part of me.”

“You’re still in there,” Eden whispered, gently squeezing my hand. 

I didn’t answer. But I let her hold my hand. 

Eden suddenly stood up, the softness in her face replaced by frustration, maybe even fear. She stared at me for a second, like she was debating how far to push, but then her jaw tightened.

“That’s it,” she said.

“What?” I asked, my voice small.

She didn’t answer. She yanked my blankets off without warning, the cold air hitting my skin like a slap.

“Eden—!” I cried, grabbing for the edge of the comforter, but she pulled it out of reach and tossed it across the room.

“I’m not doing this with you,” she snapped. “You’re getting out of bed. Now.”

“I don’t want to,” I said, curling into myself. “I can’t.”

She didn’t budge. She crossed her arms, eyes hard. “You will. You don’t get to starve yourself over a guy who didn’t have the guts to love you properly. You don’t get to shut down and scare the hell out of everyone who cares about you. You’ve done that before, Jules. I watched you disappear once. I’m not letting it happen again.”

“I’m not trying to disappear,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I just… I don’t feel anything. And when I do, it hurts.”

Eden exhaled sharply and knelt down again, this time grabbing my wrists. Her grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm and steady. 

“I know,” she said. “And you don’t have to fix it all today. But you are getting up. And you are going to walk down that hallway with me. I don’t care if you hate me for it right now. I’ll drag you barefoot if I have to.”

I looked at her, eyes blurred with tears, but something in me shifted. Her stare wasn’t pitying—it was determined. She wasn’t asking.

She stood and reached for my hand again. “Let’s go.”

My legs felt like lead, but I let her pull me up. I wobbled, weak, and she steadied me.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.

“You’re damn right I am,” she said. “Now move.”

And she did just that—guided me down the hall and out the front lobby door, and even the three-minute walk to the dining building, like I was learning how to walk again. Every step felt like dragging grief behind me. But Eden didn’t let go.

The dining hall doors came into view, and my stomach twisted at the smell of food. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want to be there. But Eden’s grip never loosened.  

“You’ll eat something,” she said quietly. “Even if it’s small. Even if it’s just so I stop panicking. You owe me that much.”

I didn’t argue because I  didn’t have the energy.

Eden disappeared for like three minutes, and when she came back, with a full plate. 

When she slid the tray in front of me and sat down across the table with her arms firmly crossed, I knew I had no choice. Her eyes didn’t waver once, and I could feel her watching me like a hawk.

So I picked up the fork with trembling fingers.

I ate slowly, barely. The dining hall had one of their theme nights, today it was Chinese takeout. It used to be one of my favourites. They even had soup dumplings, perfectly steamed, my favourite. 

But they might as well have been rocks in my mouth.

I chewed one bite for what felt like five full minutes. My throat refused to swallow. The taste, once something I loved, now sat on my tongue like paper. Everything felt off—dull, numb, grey.

Then suddenly, without warning, my voice broke the silence.

“I don’t even know why he did that.”

Eden looked up from her phone. “Jules—”

“My emotions are so fucked,” I interrupted, laughing bitterly through the tears that suddenly blurred my vision. “I’m okay, one second. And then…” My voice cracked. “Then I’m choking on dumplings and wanting to rip my heart out next.” 

She put her phone down. “Jules,” she said gently, reaching across the table.

“I just—I just don’t get what I did wrong.” My breath started hitching. “Like… like he promised me. He literally said he’d never leave me. And then—then he did. Just like that.”

Eden reached for a napkin and pushed it toward me. My tears had started to fall, probably wetting the food below me.

“He said it was for basketball,” I mumbled, a dumpling half-mashed in my mouth as I tried to speak and cry at the same time. “Some training thing…”

My sob caught in my throat. I pressed my hand to my chest and rubbed like it could stop the aching. “We talked about making it work. We made plans.” I wiped my mouth, shaking. “Was I nothing to him?”

Eden’s jaw clenched. “Baby. You were not nothing. He’s just stupid. Men are stupid. They only think about their ego and their future. You were real to him, I know that—but he doesn’t know how to hold onto something good. That’s his failure, not yours.”

Suddenly, my fork clattered against the plate, slipping from my trembling fingers.

“I thought he’d never leave me,” I whispered again, and the tears came like a flood I couldn’t stop. My whole body shook, and a choked sob escaped from my chest. 

“Oh, Jules—” Eden’s voice broke with worry as she rushed from her seat to wrap her arms around me. “No, no, no, baby—please, don’t cry. Please.”

She held me close, pressing my head against her shoulder while her hand ran up and down my back.

“I hate seeing you like this,” she whispered. “God, it’s killing me.” She rubbed my hand in hers. “You don’t need a stupid man to love you, you have me,” she said, smiling. “And just know I’d love you forever, unconditionally.” 

I couldn’t even speak, but I knew it was true. I just cried harder, the taste of half-chewed soup dumplings still sitting in my mouth like lead. I swallowed it down with a wince, but it burned like acid. My chest physically ached.

“He said he’d never leave me,” I sobbed into her hoodie. “He said we’d figure it out together. We had a plan—he said I was his person. He promised.”

I already said that, but Eden would also listen if I talked about the same thing a hundred times. 

That was the type of best friend she was. 

Her arms tightened. “I know. I know he did.”

“I gave him everything, Eddy. I gave him all of me. I trusted him with everything. Even if it was only five months,” My voice was raw now, fraying with every word. “And now he’s just gone.”

“You meant everything,” Eden said firmly, pulling back enough to look into my face. Her thumbs brushed away the tears streaking down my cheeks. “Don’t you ever think otherwise. That boy is a damn fool.”

I shook my head, eyes red and glassy. “I just… I don’t know how to be okay without him.”

Eden looked like her heart was breaking, too. “You will be okay, Jules. Not right now, maybe not tomorrow. But one day, you’re gonna look back and realize you didn’t need someone who made you feel like this.”

“But I wanted him,” I whispered. “I didn’t care about anything else. I just wanted him.”

And then I broke again. Right there in the middle of the dining hall, not caring who's watching. 

My appetite had long since vanished, but Eden sat across from me with that same stubborn glare that said, Eat something or I’ll make you.

So I picked up a dumpling with my chopsticks and shoved it into my mouth. Then another. And another. I chewed quickly, not tasting a thing—just trying to prove something. Prove I could eat and that I was fine.

But I wasn’t fine. Not even close.

Nothin' happened in the way I wanted, and now, every corner of this place is haunted. 

By the fourth dumpling, my throat closed up and I nearly choked trying to swallow. The tears were still threatening behind my eyes, and I dropped my chopsticks with a clatter. I wiped my face with my sleeve and stood up abruptly.

“I wanna go back to my dorm,” I mumbled, avoiding Eden’s eyes. My voice was hoarse, like it had been dragged across gravel.

Eden looked up at me, hesitated, and then slowly nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She didn’t fight me on it—not this time. Maybe because she could see it in my face. That I wasn’t running from food, or even from her. I was running from the ache inside me that wouldn’t quit, the hole that Chris had left behind.

She grabbed both our trays and followed silently behind me. Neither of us said a word as we walked out. 

But the world had other plans for me.

And other terrible things for my eyes to see.

── .✦ CHRISTOPHER

“Chris, you need to get your head out of your damn ass,” Nick snapped, his voice sharp as he stood near the doorway with his arms crossed. “Talk to us.”

I didn’t look at him. I just sank down onto the edge of my bed, running a hand through my hair. “I told you already.”

Matt let out a scoff from across the room. “Yeah, we’re aware of the breakup, dumbass,” he said, leaning against my dresser with that disappointed brother tone. “What we’re not aware of is why. Since when were you the kind of guy who dumps girls out of nowhere with no explanation?”

“I didn’t dump her for no reason,” I muttered, jaw tight.

“Then enlighten us,” Nick pushed, stepping closer. “Because right now? It just looks like you torched something for nothing.”

My hands balled into fists, elbows digging into my knees. The room suddenly felt too hot. Too small. I stared at the floor, but Jules’ face kept flashing in my mind. Her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes would light up when she was excited about something small. She used to curl up with me when she got tired.

“I had to,” I said, voice rough. “I need to focus. Basketball—”

“Oh come on,” Matt cut in, throwing his hands up. “Basketball? That’s your big reason? You broke her heart for a sport?”

“It’s not just a sport!” I snapped, finally looking up. “This is my future! It’s everything I’ve been working for since I was a kid. I can’t afford distractions.”

“She wasn’t a distraction, Chris,” Nick said quietly. “You love her.”

And just like that, my chest tightened.

“I didn’t want to,” I muttered under my breath, but they both heard me.

Nick’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I didn’t want to,” I repeated, louder this time. My voice cracked with it. “It wasn’t even my damn choice.” 

Matt straightened, his expression shifting. “What the hell does that mean?”

I rubbed a hand over my face, sighing hard. “Dad. It was Dad.”

There was a beat of silence.

“He told me to end it,” I finally said, voice flat but bitter. “he said she was a liability and that she’d distract me. Then also went on about how I’m too close to the draft to be wasting time on a relationship.”

Nick blinked. “So you just listened to him?”

I looked up slowly, eyes rimmed with red. “You know how he is, Nick. You both do. It wasn’t a suggestion. He gave me an ultimatum: Jules or my career. He made it very clear that if I didn’t end things, he’d make life hell for both of us.”

Matt cursed under his breath, jaw clenched.

“I thought… I thought maybe if I ended it quickly, cleanly, she’d move on. That it’d hurt less for her,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I saw her face, man. I heard her cries, and now I can’t stop hearing her.”

“You’re such a dumbass,” Nick muttered, his voice softer now. “

Matt sat down next to me. “You let Dad win, Chris.”

I didn’t respond. My chest felt like it was caving in.

“Just—get out,” I muttered, standing abruptly. “I have practice.” 

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“I’m busy,” I said flatly, brushing past them and heading for the corner of the room where my duffle bag sat. 

I grabbed it, slinging it over my shoulder, jaw tight. I could feel the weight of their stares burning into my back, but I didn’t turn around.

“You’re really gonna pretend this conversation didn’t happen?” Matt asked behind me.

I didn’t answer. My hand gripped the strap harder as I yanked the door open.

I didn’t know what else to say, because if I stayed a second longer, I was going to break again.  

I hadn’t seen Jules in over a week. Not in class, not around campus—nowhere. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. She’d stopped showing up to Communications, too, which used to be the only class she actually liked. And I knew exactly what was keeping her away. It was my dumbass.

I tried to convince myself she was just busy, or sick, or needed space. But deep down, I knew better. I’d broken something in her.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

Every day, I debated it—walking to her dorm, knocking on her door, just…checking to see if she was okay. 

But, I don't wanna go, I think I'll make it worse, and either way, everywhere I go, leads me back to her. 

At Vivianne Hall, especially, she's everywhere. 

At practice, I couldn’t get my head straight the moment I stepped onto the court. The ball fell out of my hands, my shots were sloppy, and my passes were late. Coach yelled more than once, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there—not really.

My mind had been shot for a week now. My timing was off, my energy low.

The irony?

My dad thought Jules would be the distraction—said she’d ruin my focus. But the truth is, it’s the emptiness she left behind that’s throwing me off.

Without her, I feel like I’m playing blind. Just going through the motions.

After practice ended, I didn’t even wait for the rest of the guys to finish their cool-down. I grabbed my towel, wiped the sweat off my face, and pushed open the locker room doors. The echo of sneakers and bouncing balls faded behind me as I stepped into the hallway, mind spinning.

I just needed air. Something to snap me out of this fog.

But as I exited the gym and rounded the corner, someone smacked right into my chest.

“Agh—damn,” the girl muttered, stumbling back.

I caught her arm before she fell.

She looked up, wide-eyed. “Chris?”

Of course. Just my luck.

“Ava,” I said flatly, my tone dry.

She tilted her head with that same smug smile she always wore when she thought she had the upper hand. “Been a while,” she said, eyes trailing up and down like she was trying to read me.

I gave a short nod, barely acknowledging it.

Then came the dagger. “Heard you and your little redhead called it quits.”

My jaw tightened. I should’ve walked away right then, but instead, I stared at her.

“Where’d you hear that?”

She shrugged innocently like she didn’t just drop a grenade. “Overheard Matt talking yesterday. Something about you being a wreck and ditching classes.” 

Fucking Matt.

I clenched my fists, but kept them at my sides. “Must’ve been a slow day if you’re still eavesdropping on drama.”

She smirked, stepping a little closer. “You always did get nasty when you were hurt.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Ava.”

Her expression flickered for a split second, and I saw it—curiosity mixed with the usual bitterness. “So it’s true then?” she pressed. “You really let that girl go?”

I took a breath and slung my duffel bag higher over my shoulder. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

She crossed her arms, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Just saying... must’ve been hard. Losing someone,” she said slowly, her smirk widening. “Must be karma.”

I stopped walking and turned to her, narrowing my eyes. “What?”

She tilted her head like she was talking to a kid. “You know…” she dragged out the words. “You dropped me the second Little Miss Redhead came along. So maybe this is just the universe's evening score.”

I blinked, once, twice—then laughed. A dry, humorless sound. “Ava, we were never together.”

Her face twitched at that, just a bit, but she masked it quickly.

“You flirted with me for months,” she shot back, defensive now. “Everyone thought we were a thing.”

“Yeah, because you went around running your mouth,” I said, my tone sharper than intended. “I made it clear many times that we were only hooking up, and that you're not my girlfriend.”

She stepped forward, trying to regain control of the conversation. “So what, Jules was special and I wasn’t?”

“Yeah,” I said simply. “That's exactly what it was.”

That wiped the smirk off her face. Her arms dropped to her sides, and she looked at me like I’d just slapped her.  

“You know what?” she said, voice cold now. “You’re just cruel.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But at least I don’t pretend things happened when they didn’t.”

I turned to walk away, but she didn’t let it go.

“You’ve never looked at Jules the way you’ve looked at me.”

I stopped in my tracks, stunned for half a second—then I turned, and genuinely laughed. A real, rough, disbelieving laugh. The kind that came from someone who couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“You’re serious?” I said, still laughing. “You actually believe that?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like I imagined everything, Chris. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me. In the halls. After games. When you’d catch me watching you.”

I shook my head in disbelief, lips twitching in annoyance now instead of amusement. “You’ve seen what you wanted to see. That’s the difference.”

Ava stepped closer, her voice rising just a little. “You used to flirt back.”

“Out of boredom,” I snapped. “We were hooking up, of course, maybe I was saying shit back then.”

Her jaw tightened. “So now you’re denying everything?”

“I’m not denying anything,” I said, voice low now, sharper. “You just read into it way too much. I never wanted you like that. I’ve never looked at you and thought anything more than what we agreed to.”

That struck a nerve—her face darkened, and her eyes gleamed with something nastier.

“You’re in denial,” she said, stepping into my space like she could intimidate me. “You think Jules is better than me, but she’s just another perfect, average high society girl you’re playing hero for. I know you like me. You just don’t want to admit it.”

My expression froze. For a long second, I didn’t say anything. Then I exhaled a short laugh, cold this time.

“You don’t know me at all, Ava.”

She stared.

“I’ve never liked you like that. Not once.” I said, scoffing, “And please, you're an average high society girl yourself.” 

Ava wasn’t done.

As I turned to leave again, she stepped in front of me, blocking my path with that same fake-sweet smirk she always wore when she wanted something. Her eyes flickered up at me, glittering with determination as she slowly leaned back against the wall, deliberately close.

“You’re really going to act like there’s nothing between us?” she murmured, her voice softer now, dipped in sugar. “You and me… we’d be good together. You know we would.”

I didn’t move or flinch. I stood tall, arms crossed, and gaze flat.

She stepped in again. Closer. Her fingers grazed the edge of my sleeve, drifting slowly up my arm like she had any right. I still didn’t back away.

But I didn’t lean in, either.

“You’re not serious,” I muttered.

She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Why wouldn’t I be? We make sense, Chris. You and that girl Jules or whatever—it’s not real. But us? We’d work. We’re the same.”

I scoffed, my voice turning colder. “So that’s why you want me? The good name? My family's money? That's what this is about?”

Her hand slid to my chest now, nails dragging lightly over the fabric of my hoodie like it’d get her somewhere.

“No,” she breathed. “It’s not about that.”

I looked down at her hand, then back at her. “Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

“You want me too,” she said confidently, fingers pressing more firmly into my chest now. “I see the way you look at me. You always have. And I know what that means.”

God. She was actually serious.

“You don’t know a damn thing,” I said quietly, my jaw tight. “You’ve created this whole story in your head, Ava. But I’m not part of it, and I’ve never looked at you the way I look at Jules.”

She reached up like she was going to touch my face next, and I caught her wrist mid-air, firm, not rough. Just enough to say no. 

Her expression cracked for a split second.

I dropped her hand.

“Don’t confuse being tolerated with being wanted,” I said.

As I walked past her, I heard her heels click once against the floor as she pivoted, trailing after me with that voice, low and confident.

“You’ll change your mind,” Ava called, like it was a fact, not hope.

I stopped in my tracks.

She stepped in again, her perfume sickeningly sweet now that I was done entertaining the idea of her. “You always do,” she added, that smug glint returning to her eyes.

I turned my head slightly, jaw tight. “Ava—”

Before I could say another word, she leaned in fast, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

Quick. 

Purposeful.

Didn’t even blink. I just looked at her, deadpan.

She pulled back slowly, her voice dripping with confidence. “See? Doesn’t matter what you say. You didn’t stop me.”

I ran my tongue across the inside of my cheek, biting back a laugh. Not because anything was funny, but because she was that delusional.

“I didn’t stop you because it was pathetic,” I said flatly. “Thought maybe you'd be embarrassed enough to walk away.”

Her smugness flickered—just for a second. 

Then I turned fully, stepping in close this time, voice lowered but cold enough to bite. “You think you’ve got power here, Ava, but you don’t. You don’t know what I want. You never have.”

She opened her mouth, but I shook my head before she could speak.

“And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I won’t be this nice. Got it?”

Silence.

Her confidence wavered. But she still held onto that mask of control, straightening up like she hadn’t just made herself look desperate.

“I’ll see you around, Chris,” she said finally, with a shrug—like this was just another round of some game she thought she was winning.

I didn’t answer. Just walked out.

I sighed, running a hand down my face in pure frustration. My jaw ticked as I turned away from Ava, muttering under my breath, “Unbelievable…”

But the second I started walking away from the building and hit the cool evening air, my body stilled.

Across the street, just outside the dining hall, stood Jules.

My Jewel.

Red-cheeked. Lips parted. Her arms hung limp at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them. Eden was standing right next to her, but her eyes locked straight onto mine—wide, unblinking, and… hurt.

Shit.

I blinked once. Twice. Hoping maybe I was imagining it.

I wasn’t.

She was staring dead at me, like she’d just witnessed something she wasn’t supposed to. And from the flush in her face and the tension in her shoulders, I already knew exactly what she thought she saw.

Fuck.

“Jules—” I started, voice low, almost like I could will her to stay.

But she didn’t hear me, I was too far away. I was across the damn street for crying out loud. 

She’d been gone for a damn week, and of course, this was how I saw her again.

Not in some quiet moment. Not when I could explain.

No. It had to be now—her walking out of the dining hall just in time to catch Ava’s lips on my cheek.

Perfect.

Just shitting perfect. 

A car passed between us, horn blaring as it sped down the road, and for a second, I lost sight of her behind it.

And when it was gone past the street—

So was she.

READ ALL RELEASED PARTS HERE!

[ a/n: I love writing angst. Also, I’m gonna rant—because this is my blog and I can do whatever I want, but seriously… loving a person is insane. Like, actually insane. The way it completely rewires you. Having experienced being in love once in my life, I can say it was both the most beautiful and terrifying thing I’ve ever gone through. It made me act differently—not in a bad way, just in a way I didn't think I would towards someone. And the strangest part? There’s never a solid reason why you love someone. You just do. It’s not logic. You just simply can't choose who you wanna love. Now that I’m not in love with that person anymore, I find myself wondering if I ever could be again. And don’t get me wrong—I’m over this guy, completely (after countless denials and thinking I'd never be over him) and can't even imagine being with them again BUT YOU'RE TELLING ME THERE WAS A TIME I WAS HYSTERICALLY CRYING OVER DIS SHIT!? Anyway, there’s no bitterness or longing left– just silent respect. But it’s like they took the blueprint with them. In all my AUs's i genuinely write the feelings I would/did in similar situations. (If you read this shit, you're a real one, because I don't know why the hell I wrote all that) Like and reblog! mwah] - ceyana

tags: @chynapleasehavemercy @sweetheartsturn @mattspillowprincess @oopsiedaisydeer @chriss-slutt @sturnsflirt @idkwhatthisis2009 @fmg05 @enviedparty101 @malox12 @chrissturniolodailysluts @ribbonlovergirl @kitty-meow-meow44 @jaybirdie34 @mattscore @mattsfrenchtoast @sturnsobsessed21 @kingofeverythingmb @courta13 @slvtf0rchr1s @mattspillowprincess @thewizardfall @sturnsfluff @ifamils @le4hsblog @carrielovesmatt @mattysmrwrinkleton @sturnsplatter @idkwhatimdoinghereeeeeee @ellssturn @meatballlover10 @sagesturns @kiarasmaybank @malox12 @mattsdivaa @wesj11 @headzgonewest @ilovesamgoldencoch @rlstarfiire @charmersturns @eden1217 @pair-of-pantaloons @beardedbernard @lilianasturnsz @tropicfessed @spookysturnz @matchaandmattlovi @franticroads @angelxsturns

Comment taglist on this post to be added!

[thevoidstaredback]

Damian lost. Damian has never lost before. He never loses! Losing means you're weak, and Damian is not weak. He grew up fast and strong and is only ever getting stronger!

But he couldn't kill her.

Damian had been raised to think that love of any kind was a weakness. Grandfather did not love mother because he is not weak. Mother loved father and that made her weak. Damian could not love Danyal because that would make him weak. Grandfather expected great things from him. He could not afford to be weak.

Before they were set to leave Nanda Parbat to live and train with their father, Damian and Danyal had one final lesson with Grandfather. A fight, two versus one, on the edge of the Lazarus Pits.

Danyal did not survive. He did not resurface from the depths of the green water.

Grandfather called him weak. Mother said nothing. Damian was given no time to mourn before he was handed to his father with strict orders not to tell him about Danyal.

For all Grandfather and mother had done to him, Damian could not bring himself to kill either of them. His father had taught him to love, that it was a strength.

Damian loved his mother. He realized this as he stared into her eyes, his katana at her throat, his boot pinning her down. He could not kill her.

"You are foolish, habibi." she scolded, kneeing his back and sending him rolling forwards off of her and to the edge of the Pits. "You have discarded all I taught you."

"I have only added to those lessons," he faced her, "I remember everything you have taught me."

"You lie like your father. Obviously and bluntly."

"I have never lied to you."

"Then you have forgone my lessons!"

"Because you abandoned me!"

"I sent you away to learn. I came back for you. You abandoned me."

"A mother's role to teach her child just as the father's role is to protect." Damian leveled his weapon at her again. "You left me in the care of everyone but yourself, Talia Al Ghoul. You were only ever our mother in title, not name."

Talia lunged forward, meeting Damian's sword with her own. "You know not of what you speak, foolish child!"

"I know plenty!" He pushed back, forcing her back several feet. He followed if only to get away from the edge of the Pits. "No thanks to you."

"I gave you everything, Damian."

"No. You took everything from me. You held it all as a reward out of my reach."

"You wouldn't be where you are today if it wasn't for me and your Grandfather." she stated as though it were an undeniable truth, "Whether you acknowledge it or not, we raised you."

"I raised myself."

"We taught you everything you know."

"I taught myself!"

"We made you perfect!"

"You killed half of me!"

The silence overwhelmed the fighting in the tunnels, the shouting and running and bubbling of the Pits were all drowned out. Talia's sword lowered shakily. Damian's remained raised and steady.

"You allowed Grandfather to take Danyal from me. You forced me to forget him. You killed half of me."

"Habibi-"

"No!" He was shaking now. "He was my better half, just as I was his. And you took him from me."

"Damian-"

"You took my brother from me!" He charged madly at her, rage and grief overtaking him. "I will never forgive you for that!"

Talia matched him blow for blow. "Love is weakness, habibi. That is why he died. Danyal loved you and he paid his price for it."

With a scream, Damian doubled his efforts. His blows grew weak with rage as his mother pushed him back.

Damian knew he could not kill her. Some part of him still yearned for her approval. Some part of him still loved her.

Talia's sword impaled itself into the area below his sternum, piercing the armor and skin and muscle, stabbing through to the other side, the hilt stopping it from moving ant further.

Suddenly, the silence flooded over the cavern again. A shrill ringing filled Damian's ears as his grip weakened. His katana fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor so loudly, but so, so quietly. Blood spilled from Damian's mouth with a cough.

Talia drew her sword back, throwing it behind herself as she caught her son. Love is a weakness, but that had not stopped her before. Why hadn't it stopped her now?

"Damian? Habibi?" She cradled his body on her lap, her hand turning his face to her. "My darling?"

Damian's eyes were vacant, staring into a distance unseen. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He knows what was coming next. Sleep. Release. Soon, he'd be in his brother's arms again, just like when they were children. They'd have so long to catch up with each other.

Damian closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

Storyboard Part 2

[blushingsastiel]

Liam wasn't listening to a word Theo was saying, but it's not like anyone could fault him for it (and it's not like this is the first time this has happened. Sometimes Liam will be completely oblivious to any conversations that happens around him because he's too busy honing his attention on the chimera).

It was risky business, to ignore Theo like this.

"Liam," the chimera gritted out, his lips pressed together in a thin line for a brief moment. "Are you even listening to me right now?"

With a snap of Theo's fingers, the beta was startled into a semi-conscious daze. He tried to keep a level head but the claw wound across his torso was proving that it was difficult to make that possible. So, not only does Liam, on a regular basis, tend to favor just staring at Theo and accidentally ignoring any words said to him, but this time, it actually wasn't his fault.

The wound from the alpha had gone in deep and there was a lot of force that was used to make Liam this dazed. Really, the only thing he could focus completely on was Theo's green eyes (you know, the eyes that he could write poems about even if he doesn't know how to).

It wasn't the alpha's fault either. The alpha, Diana, had come in from Ohio, looking for Scott's help, but had been tracked by Monroe's hunters. Attacking Liam didn't even seem like a conscious effort on the alpha's part. Most likely, she was reacting in fear, all her senses heightened and on alert, and her first reaction to Liam getting close to her was to simply get him away from her and her wounds.

Diana was just scared, and Liam couldn't hold her against it.

Even if the wound did hurt like a fucking bitch but it's okay.

"Liam! Jesus christ, I'm going to kill you myself if you ignore me again," Theo sneers at the beta. His entire body language was labeled as tense from what Liam could tell in this state of mind he was currently in.

The chimera had Liam propped against a tree while the rest of the pack took care of Diana, trying to coax her into calming down and listening to them (it was working slowly but surely).

"No need to yell, Theo. I'm right here."

Maybe it wasn't the right time to get snippy when Theo was like this (worrying about Liam was a full-time job if Theo got to say).

In all honesty, it hurt to breathe because Diana's claw marks had dug in deep, stretching across his torso from the left side of his ribs all the way down across to his right hip. It made up almost the entirety of his torso.

If Liam focused hard enough, he would be able to feel the blood oozing out of him, dripping down his torso onto his jeans (that are now ruined. Thanks, Diana even if it's not really her fault, but Liam will still be a bit pissed about his ruined jeans that make his ass and thighs look good, but it's okay...).

Theo lifted up Liam's shirt again and pressed his lips together. The grip on the shirt was tight, knuckles turning almost white. The chimera stared at the wound for more than a few seconds before dropping the piece of clothing. He took in a short breath before focusing his attention on the beta once more.

"Okay, take off your shirt."

It has to be comical how fast Liam tuned in to his surroundings with that one, short sentence. It's like as if his own mind got whiplash. Take off his shirt? Theo asked him to take off his shirt?

Is he dreaming?

Because Theo only said those kinds of things in his dreams. Or when he's daydreaming.

Is this real?

Like, seriously, someone tell Liam if this is real because taking off his shirt for Theo is a dream come true.

"You want— my shirt off?" Liam questions the chimera, eyebrows raised in disbelief and eyes wide.

(If the beta started breathing more heavily... it has nothing to do with his wound and obviously has to deal with Theo and his question, but nobody has to know.)

"Yes, Liam," Theo drawls, "unless you want to hold up your own shirt while I put this huge ass band-aid I happen to have because, somehow, I just fucking knew I'd need it for you, then be my guest."

That was a lot of words. Like, a lot for Liam's muddled brain when he's really been focusing on 'shirt off' and not really much else.

Liam gulps and his hands that are resting on the forest floor twitch slightly. "Okay, yeah, whatever you need me to do, Theo. Like anything."

His response must be weird to the chimera because Theo raises an eyebrow at Liam and stares at him for a few seconds, assessing him. Liam isn't sure what he finds because Theo reaches for the hem of the shirt and starts pulling up.

To the best of his ability (which isn't much), Liam tries to help Theo take off his shirt by lifting his arms. It's a bit uncomfortable with the action causing Liam to wince because it pulls on his wound.

Before he knows it, Theo wraps his fingers around one of Liam's wrists and starts pulling pain away from the beta. Instantly, Liam feels better, closing his eyes at the sensation of the pain ebbing away more and more. He rests the back of his head against the tree and exhales in relief.

"Hey, eyes open."

Liam's eyes flutter a bit before staying open completely. His head lolls to the side a bit before he settles his gaze on Theo's face. He seems to be concentrating on the wound, eyes never leaving Liam's torso, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed.

He looks... beautiful. Handsome. Pretty.

"Fuck, it's still bleeding too much. The bandage will have to wait," Theo murmurs to himself.

Instead, Theo uses Liam's shirt and presses it against the claw marks. Liam groans in pain, gritting his teeth. It does fucking hurt. Fuck you, Diana (even though Liam is not going to be mad at her once his wound stops hurting).

The fingers around his wrist are there again, drawing pain from Liam to Theo, with the only evidence being the veins turning black and rushing up like a river.

By this point, Liam is panting in exhaustion. From the very corners of his mind, he can hear Scott and Lydia gently tell Diana that she should get checked out by Deaton for her wounds.

"Okay, little wolf, it seems like the bleeding is stopping," Theo sighs in relief, pushing a bloody hand through his hair to get the short pieces away from his eyes (don't do that, Theo! You look so good with them!). "Let's get you to Deaton."

"Wait, wait," Liam scrambles with his hands to hold on to Theo's shirt, effectively keeping the chimera kneeled down in front of him, "Did you like it?"

Theo immediately stops any and all movement he was going to make. His hands rest on the dirt uselessly. "Did I like what," Theo asks slowly in disbelief.

"Me with my shirt off," is the immediate reply from Liam.

"I—"

Wow, Liam hasn't rendered Theo speechless in a while. It's always a good feeling.

"Shut— shut up, you fucking menace."

"Hey, that wasn't an answer," the beta whines.

"How about I give you an answer when you don't have claw marks from an alpha," Theo seethes, voice tight and high, almost bordering hysterical.

Liam nods his head, content with the compromise. He has a sweet smile on his face. "Okay, I accept that."

("Okay, why is Theo cursing so much?"

Mason shakes his head in exasperation. "Liam asked Theo if he liked him with his shirt off."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Stiles groans.

"I can't. I had to witness the abomination that was that conversation from start to finish," Mason says.

Scott speaks up this time, "But why did Liam even ask that question?"

"Oh, Scott," Lydia sighs, patting his back a few times before speaking again. "We talked about this, remember? The sexual tension?"

The alpha snaps his fingers as the memory jumps out in his mind of him and Lydia discussing the relationship between Liam and Theo. "Oh, yeah, I do remember that."

It was quiet for a few minutes as the group ushers Diana into Stiles' jeep, and they watch Theo helping Liam walk to his truck.

"Did anyone happen to record that?" Stiles asks the group.

Corey held up his phone and shook it a few times. He had a large smirk on his face. "Started recording as soon as I saw Liam looking like he was about to say something stupid but entertaining."

"Doing God's work, Corey.")

//

The car ride from the preserve to Deaton's clinic didn't take long, and soon Liam was ushered into the back room by Theo.

Deaton didn't look surprised at all when the other part of the group stepped into the room with Diana, the other alpha. He briefly took in Liam's and Diana's appearance before speaking, "Okay, let me work on her first and then Liam. Diana's wounds are a bit more critical as of right now."

That was fine with Liam because the bleeding had stopped and honestly, the pain was nothing more than a dull ache. While alpha wounds took much longer to heal, he knew that it was his healing that stopped the bleeding already. It hadn't stitched up the claw marks yet, but he needed to at least have Deaton clean it up and bandage it.

Theo grabbed an empty chair and practically shoved (gently but with some force) Liam into it. The seat most definitely helped Liam feel better, not having to stand up on his legs.

"You're an idiot," Theo whispered to the beta. He was standing next to Liam, so closely that Liam's bare shoulder was pressed against Theo's jacket sleeve as they watched Deaton help Diana.

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"I just said you were an idiot."

"I know you are—"

Theo growled at Liam, shutting him up. "I can't take it. Just shut up."

The beta was a bit more level headed than he was in the preserve. Knowing that the wound wasn't fatal and that he was going to get checked out made Liam more relaxed. His shirt was still off too, not that Theo seemed to care. If anything, Theo was looking at anything but him. And if he did look at Liam, it never once went below his nose. Like he was actively avoiding his bare torso. Which, Liam couldn't help but be annoyed at.

Didn't he have a nice body? Yeah, it was covered with chest hair, but some people were into that, weren't they?

Was Theo not one of those people?

"Why are you so mad?" Liam asks, nudging the other man. He tilted his head up to look at the chimera.

"I'm not mad," the chimera murmured through clenched teeth.

"Uh, I think you are. You're wound so tightly."

It was true. Not only was Theo clenching his jaw, but his posture was rigid. His shoulders were pulled and set, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. Even his eyes held murderous intent.

"Uh, I think I'm not," Theo mockingly retorted.

"How come you can never answer a question like a normal person?"

"I always answer a question like a normal person. See?"

Liam felt like banging his head against the wall when Theo got like this with him.

Between the two of them, Theo had gotten softer and less ready to snap at everything Liam said or did. It felt good to be one of the few people who Theo felt comfortable enough to not be so on guard with all the time.

When it's Liam and Theo with Liam's parents (Jenna and David who have come to completely adore Theo), the chimera's rough edges have smoothed out. He would cuddle up on the couch with a blanket thrown over him, legs drawn to his chest. He watches Love Island USA with them and throws a fit when his favorite islander leaves (Theo misses Belle-A everyday). That kind of stuff has become normal for Liam to witness. He doesn't want anything to go back to the way it was before. Before when Theo was hesitant to be any kind of soft around Liam. Before when Theo didn't show his true self in front of Liam. The beta refuses for any of that to disappear.

Theo let's his guard down with Liam. He does.

But right now, it's like his guard is back up, and Liam hates it.

He wants to be back in a teasing manner with Theo where they don't snap at each other and mean it.

Liam does not want to be pushed away by Theo.

For now, Liam will let it go and grit his teeth and have Deaton look at him before Theo drives the two of them home.

Finally, finally, when Deaton is finished with both him and Diana, Liam grips Theo's wrist tightly and starts shoving the chimera towards the back door.

"Can me and Theo leave already? Diana, you'll be okay, right?"

The alpha snaps her attention from the floor to Liam and a bitter smile appears. "Yes, I'll be okay. I'm really, really sorry for hurting you. It wasn't my intention at all," she pleads to everyone in the room to believe her, but mostly to Liam. Her eyes dart between Theo and himself, and her expression loses some of her guilt (because she knows that there is someone who will care for and tend to Liam when he leaves the clinic).

"It's okay, Diana. I'll see you later so we can help you with your situation," Liam responds with a small smile.

The rest of the pack waves the two goodbye, and Scott promises to text everyone when Diana is settled in his house. He quickly announces before the two are out the door that there will be a pack meeting with everyone tomorrow to figure out a plan to help Diana.

Liam doesn't stop pulling Theo by his wrist until they are close to Theo's truck. He goes to the passenger side and waits for Theo to unlock the door, which he takes a little bit to do. When the truck is finally unlocked, Liam slides in with Theo joining him quickly from the other side.

The beta doesn't dare talk just yet. Not the whole way home, and not even when they get to his house. Walking with no incline is fine with Liam, it doesn't hurt that badly, but the stairs that lead up to his room is sure going to be slightly painful.

With some hesitation, Theo wraps an arm around Liam's waist and makes Liam wrap his arm around his shoulder. It definitely, definitely, definitely causes Liam to shudder with having Theo touching him like this, especially with no shirt.

Maybe he could handle it with a shirt, but it feels so different to have no upper clothing and for Theo to be touching any part of his skin. Even though Theo is wearing a jacket, it still makes Liam shudder.

Showering while trying not to wet his bandage was challenging for sure, but Liam preservered through it and was soon nice and clean again. No blood on him or sweat or any kind of bodily fluids.

It was Theo's turn next to shower since his hands were still completely tainted with Liam's blood. Even though Liam felt like he could sleep a hundred years, he forced himself to stay awake and wait for Theo to get out of the shower. He really wanted to talk to him before the chimera went to his room.

Theo was dressed in his pajamas with his hair still damp when he opened the door to Liam's room to check on him one last time before he went to bed. The beta still hadn't put a shirt on; he felt a little lazy to and he also didn't want to pull on his wound more by lifting his arms to get inside a shirt.

The chimera darted his gaze away from Liam's bare chest as soon as he realized Liam still wasn't covered to the dresser next to the bedroom door.

This was getting ridiculous.

"Okay, is there a reason you can't look at me?"

Theo sighs but turns his attention to the beta. "There. Happy now?"

Liam shakes his and gets up from his bed where he was sitting down. The chimera hadn't fully stepped into the room, so Liam moves to fix that. Grabbing his hand, Liam tugs Theo further into the room, and with his other hand, pushes the door closed.

Without meaning to (sure, Liam...), the beta pushes Theo so he's pressed against the door, still holding onto his hand.

"No, I'm not happy now," Liam exclaims. "I'm trying to understand why you don't like me shirtless. Is it because I'm not attractive to you or something? It's driving me kinda insane."

The chimera eyes are wide by the time Liam finishes his spiel. Liam doesn't notice it at first, because of how dark it is in his room, but when the moonlight illuminates his room through his window, the beta realizes Theo is blushing.

It's a really pretty shade of red all across his cheeks and a little bit of his nose.

"Wow, you're blushing. I never see you blush," Liam says softly. His eyes trace over the red hue over and over again.

"I am not," Theo weakly replies.

"Yes, you totally are." The beta waits a few seconds before asking his question again. "Why can't you look at me when I'm shirtless?"

Everything about this moment feels delicate as if one wrong move or word could shatter what's happening the two of them.

"Because," Theo starts, licking his lips to buy some time (all it does is make Liam want to bite them and lick his way inside Theo's mouth). "Because it makes me nervous."

"Me being shirtless makes you nervous... Why?"

The chimera groans and tried to pull his hand away from Liam's. When Liam subtly sniffs the room, the smell of embarrassment is mixed in.

"You know why, Liam. You have to know why," Theo whispers, eyes roaming Liam's face, tracing his eyebrows, his nose, and then his lips. Liam watches as Theo's eyes go lower, down to his chin and then his neck. The chimera's gaze goes lower, lower, lower until Liam knows Theo is looking at Liam's chest and stomach.

Now, Liam is the one who groans quietly. "You like me, Theo? Tell me it's because you like me."

Theo doesn't look up, his gaze firmly on Liam's chest looking like he wants to touch. "I like you. I like you a lot, and you're really hot, especially when you have your shirt off," the chimera says, out of breath.

That'll do it. That will most certainly do it for Liam. It'll most certainly cause Liam to surge forward, pressing his lips against Theo's. It's a bit frantic, a bit messy, and the back of Theo's head hits the door from the force Liam uses. But, Theo only moans when that happens, and Liam feels like his veins are on fire.

He pulls back with a gasp. "I'd like to see you shirtless, too."

"Yeah, I think I can do that for you," Theo pants.

(A message pings to both Theo's and Liam's phones. Liam stretches a lazy hand to his phone that is resting on his bedside table. His other arm has Theo draped on it. The chimera is resting on his side, facing Liam who is on his back. They're both careful to steer clear from touching the covered wound.

"Corey just sent a video of the two of us..."

"What is the video?"

The beta opens the message and clicks on the video, waiting for it to start playing.

When the video ends, Theo is laughing hysterically. The beta also thinks it's funny, but it's also kinda embarrassing that everyone in the pack has now seen it because Corey gracelessly sent it to the groupchat that has every member.

"Shut up, Theo," Lima whines.

Theo doesn't stop laughing until Liam elbows him in the stomach.)

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

My Sister’s Keeper

Dean went to hell and Sam left his little sister (16/17 yo) to fend for herself. Dean gets back and he is pissed with Sam and they have to find her. Fluff

Warnings- swearing, angst, fluff lol

A/N- I kind of changed the way Dean was brought back. Instead of going right to Bobby he found Sam first. Let me know if you think I should do a part 2?

“She’s a fucking kid Sam,” Dean let out an angry yell. He couldn’t believe that Sam had ditched their baby sister when she needed him the most. His heart ached as he thought about the times he reassured her that when he was in Hell she would always have Sam and that he would take care of her. He knew that she still wasn’t convinced and it made leaving so much harder, but he had no choice. After all, Dean had raised her and Sam had left them both multiple times. His heart panged when he thought about where she could be all alone. The look of horror on his face when he came to realization, “A young girl at that!” Dean grimaced. God forbid someone touched a hair on her head, they would be dead and Dean would make sure of it. He couldn’t imagine his baby sister alone and scared fending for herself. Sure she was tough, but she was just a kid and he knew her better than she knew herself. He knows that when she claims she’s okay after a hunt, its clear she isn’t as her body betrays her words and she trembles until he or Sam rub her back and let her know that she’s safe. It doesn’t take an idiot to notice the flash of panic on her face after a door slams or a loud noise is heard. Or when they have to calm her down during a panic attack or comfort her in the middle of the night during a nightmare. Or the way she clings to Sam or Dean’s shirt every night when she falls asleep. She was tougher than hell, but at the end of the day she’s just a kid who was forced to live this life. Dean looked at Sam and saw the look of regret that filled his face. “You better fucking find her Sam or I swear to God,” Dean trailed off grabbing his phone to call Bobby, putting it on speaker phone. The phone rang a few times until Bobby picked up, “Hello?” “Hey Bobby it’s Dean, have you heard from Y/N,” Dean asked as he shot a look at Sam. Bobby replied, “I talked to her last week and she said her and Sam were getting close finding you a way out,” Sam’s heart panged as he realized that she told Bobby he was with her so no one would worry about her. She never wanted to be a bother to anyone and he felt even worse knowing she was trying everything in her power to get Dean back while he ran off with a demon. Something that none the less probably cost her her soul. He should have been with her and he will never forgive himself for leaving. But he thought he was doing the right thing in the moment. Now looking back at it he wasn’t sure how he thought that because right now he was terrified at the thought of her being alone or worse, hurt. Sam’s emotions were interrupted by Bobby speaking again, “And I can see that it worked. Welcome back boy.” “Thanks Bobby, do you have an address of where she might be?” Dean replied. Bobby hummed “No, but I have a town.” Dean let out a sign of relief. He grabbed the keys and turned to Sam, “You better hope she’s safe Sam. Let’s go.”

They got into the car and Dean took off. They were about 3 hours out from the town that Bobby sent over. Luckily it was a pretty small town and there was one motel that they could pretty much pinpoint where she could be staying. The car ride was agonizingly quiet and Sam was forced to be stuck in his thoughts on how awful of a brother he’s been. He was too worried about killing Lilith while she was too busy trying to find a way to bring Dean back. He was fucking selfish and he should have been focused on his only living sibling left that was trying to bring back their other non living sibling. He decided to break the silence, “Dean I’m so fucking sorry, I screwed up man and I screwed up bad. I’ll never fucking forgive myself.” Dean scoffed, “Yeah you shouldn’t be able to forgive yourself Sam. She’s just a kid, I don’t understand how you could EVER leave her like that. She needed you the most and you left her. We don’t even know if she’s alive,” Dean gripped the steering wheel and pressed the gas harder thinking the worst possible scenario. He continued, “She found a way to bring me back and we know how that story ends Sam.” Sam filled to the brim with guilt, “I’ll fix everything, I promise Dean, I won’t let anything else happen to her.” The car went back to silence as both brothers continued to hope their baby sister was alright.

It was around 1am when they finally arrived at the motel. The engine roared as Dean turned the car off. They got out and hurried to the front desk. “Hi. how can I help you?” The man behind the desk asked. They both pulled out their FBI badges and stated who they were looking for. The guy pointed them to a room and they rushed to what they were hoping was Y/N’s room. She’s always been a light sleeper so when Dean started to pick the lock to her door, she immediately heard it. Her heart dropped and she grabbed her knife to give her a fighting chance against her intruders. She quickly glided across the motel room and put her back against the wall. It was pitch black, but she could make out two figures. One was much taller than the other, but they were both pretty big which made her gulp. There was no one way she could take on the both of them and she knew that. They picked the lock with ease and started to make their way into her room. They took a few steps in and that’s when Y/N charged at them. The taller one of the two immediately turned around and just before she could make contact with him, he grabbed her. She immediately dropped her knife as he pinned her wrist back and slammed her against the wall. She let out a yelp and braced her head for impact, but instead of feeling the hard wall against her head it was the palm of a hand. She was confused, but she still whimpered terrified. “Please,” she cried, “please don’t hurt me.” As she pleaded, the light to the motel room flicked on and she was finally able to make out the person in front of her. “Hey hey it’s alright,” it was Sam. “Sammy,” she whimpered. Still clearly dazed, confused, and frightened. Sam loosened his grip on his sister and wrapped his large arms around her small frame, “Yeah, hey shhhh bug I got you. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She cried, flinging her arms around him and holding him tight like he could disappear at any moment. To be fair, he could disappear at any moment and he did. They stayed like that for a few moments before rage took over her. She pulled away, crying and started hitting him. “How could you Sam,” she cried. Slapping his chest and hitting him over and over again, “How could you fucking leave me. I-I needed you Sam. I needed you and you left me,” she sobbed. She was weak with exhaustion, but Sam let her hit him because he deserved every single blow even if it barely hurt him.

Dean stood back watching his little sister. He was taken aback by how fragile she looked. She definitely lost weight as she was much skinnier. He noticed dark heavy bags under her eyes like she had been crying every single day for months straight. He couldn’t take it anymore, his sister was clearly suffering and he wasn’t around to help her. In fact, no one was around to help her. He couldn’t watch her crumble any longer so he came up behind her and embraced her. He pinned her frailing arms down with his and held her in a tight hug from behind. She fought against him, crying when Dean calmly spoke, “Hey hey hey Y/N/N I’m going to need you to relax for me alright?” She stood frozen, “De?” “Yeah, I got you sweetheart, I got you. I’m so sorry,” He released his hold as she turned around and launched herself onto him. Dean wrapped his arms around her and she gripped onto Deans shirt for dear life. She whimpered, “De I was so scared.” Dean felt his heart drop even further, “I know kid, I know. Shhhh it’s okay, I’m here. I got you.” Dean tightened his grip on her and rested his clenched jaw on her head shooting Sam a look. Sam watched them both, feeling sick to his stomach. How could he have done this to his baby sister? This is no life for a kid. He knew that too and that’s why the pit in his stomach only grew bigger. A sob interrupted Sam’s thoughts as Y/N’s emotions began to escalate. He watched as she collapsed, falling into their older brothers arms. Dean quickly sunk to the floor with her as her breathing hitched. He could feel her heart hammering against her rib cage and knew he needed to get her out of her panicked state before she passed out. “Hey hey hey hey Y/N/N breathe for me sweetheart, breathe.” She felt her chest start to tighten which frightened her even more. Her breathing was erratic at this point and she dug her finger tips into deans arms. “Hey kid, you’re having a panic attack okay? It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe okay?” She nodded still trembling, still gasping. He repositioned her so she was sitting in between his legs with her back pressed against him to feel the rise and fall of his chest. “I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that sweetheart?” Dean felt her nod and continued “Yeah? Okay. We’re going to breathe out for 10. Come on bug 10…9…8…7…” She matched Dean’s breath which ended up hitching on 7. Dean reached down to rub her arms, “Keep going kid. You got it. 3…2…1…” He walked her through breathing in and out a few more times until he felt satisfied enough to where he knew she wouldn’t pass out. He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head, “That’s it sweetheart, I got you.” He could still feel her heart pounding though so he pulled her onto his lap like he did when she was a child and ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s alright, I’m here now and I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me kiddo. I’ve got you.”

She sat on the floor with Dean for what felt like hours while he comforted her. Eventually Sam made his way over unable to see his baby sister hurt any longer. He sat down and brushed her hair away from her face, “I’m so sorry bug. You have every right to be upset with me. I let you down and I caused you so much pain. I just thought I was doing the right thing for all of us. If I could go back in time, I would change it. I’m so incredibly sorry for everything, but I’m here now and I’m not leaving you ever.” Sam let a few tears escape his eyes. Y/N reached to grab his hand, “I forgive you Sammy. I’m sorry for hitting you.” Sam chuckled. His baby sister was too nice for her own sake. “I deserved it,” he said. She shot her head back up and looked between her two brothers. “How did you get out?” She asked, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer. She was scared that a crossroads demon finally took Sam up on his offer for his soul. Her heart rate picked up again while she waited for her brothers to give her an answer. “I don’t know how I got out. I thought it was either you or Sam who figured it out, but Sam didn’t,” he trailed off looking at her with worried eyes. She blinked, “No it wasn’t me. I tried Dean, I tried so hard to save you. I- I tried. I’m so sorry. I-I couldn’t figure it out.” Dean’s face softened, “Hey sweetheart it’s okay. Thank you, but I wish it wasn’t put on you in the first place. I would have never wanted this for you. I’m so sorry.” He could tell she was filled with so much guilt when she shouldn’t be. It crushed him and he rubbed her arm, “I’m here now.” Y/N had so many questions, but all she knew was that she was back with her brothers and that’s all that mattered to her. She was exhausted and eventually let the darkness flow over her. “Get some rest kid, we’ll be here when you wake up,” she heard Dean say. She could finally sleep peacefully knowing she had both of her brother back.

[ariieeesworld]

ᯓ★dying love-c.s

ᯓ★what’s it about?- chris goes through internal turmoil wondering if his commitment issues are messing with him or if his girlfriend is falling out of love with him. hoping its the former, not the latter because he really fell hard for her.

ᯓ★warnings- toxic!reader, (tried) angst, crying, heartbreak, one-sided arguing, chris’s pov, breaking up, lowercase intended

ᯓ★based on the song grenade by bruno mars for @bernardsbendystraws’s music writing challenge!!

── .✦ “what did i do to deserve this?” i exclaimed to my girlfriend, who i have been dating for a year. she sat at the edge of my bed and stared at me blankly. after everything that i have done for you, i let my guard down for you, all the effort i have put into this relationship lately. i knew i shouldn't have done it, i should've seen it coming. why am i so stupid? everyone could see that she was leading me on. even my fucking mom could tell and she didn’t even get a chance to meet her yet, not like she ever will now. it wasn't like this at the beginning, she was sweet, and kind. nick and matt warned me about this shit, why did i fall in love so fast? it’s like she cast a spell on me, i knew it was too good to be true, way too fucking good.

tears welled in my eyes as i glanced at her, sitting there with a smug look written on her face like she’s proud of breaking my heart. i couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sadness at that moment. “oh, you’re fucking ecstatic that you’re playing with my feelings? i don't understand why you’re sitting here like you’ve won an achievement.” i raised my voice and pointed toward myself, looking at her with a sense of disappointment, hoping she understands how i feel, knowing she never will. “just tell me you don't love me anymore! that’s fucking better than this shit you’re pulling!” my voice echoed off of these four walls, reminiscing about the times i held her when she was bawling her eyes out, when i was her shoulder to lean on. the most vulnerable moments, i’ve been there by her side, but i couldn't lean on her fucking shoulder at all.

“i don't fucking ask for much! to give me all your love is all i ever ask, but i guess that’s too much for you huh?” i ask, my voice cracking, tears rolling down my face. how can she not be affected by this, can she not see what she’s doing to me? “i can't do this, you’re actually doing too much, chris.” she expressed as she stood up looking for her purse, “me?! doing too much? you’re doing too little, i actually cared for you! fuck - i still do, even after all the times you pushed me away!” i say as i run my fingers through my hair, “don’t run away from me, talk to me! what did i do wrong? i want to fix it.”

i don’t want to lose her; i’d do anything for her. i fucking hate how i keep giving everyone second chances when they don’t deserve that shit at all. my heart feels worn out, and i’m tired, but i can’t just let this go. “everything,” she says, her words piercing my heart like daggers. my tears flowed like a waterfall as i took in her words and watched as she walked out of my room. following her into the living room, “wait, no come back, please” I begged her, tears streaming down my face as i sobbed uncontrollably. “we’re done, i just-you’re just too obnoxious.” she let out as she stepped through the front door, i was left feeling profoundly shocked and heartbroken. i stood in the living room, not knowing that matt was behind me watching from his position at the fridge.

he walked behind me and pulled me into an embrace, my tears soaking into his gray hoodie as i rested my head on his shoulder. “i would give anything for her, i’d die for her, yet she’s shattered my heart like it was nothing. you guys were right… and she called me fucking obnoxious! am i obnoxious, matt?” i ask as i look at him with my probably bloodshot eyes, waiting for a response, i expected him to agree with her because that’s all i had always been told: "chris, you’re too loud," "chris, shut up," "chris, stop being so fucking annoying." he shook his head, no, a sense of sadness crept in the air as matt and chris held onto each other.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws!!

i hope i didn't make chris sound like an asshole😭… (especially in the first few sentences )

[jasperhaleobsessed]

What if Bella was raised by Charlie instead of Renee?

November 13, 1987

"Charlie I can't do this anymore, I feel stuck in this town and I can't put down roots here when I know I'll be miserable. I can't make this mistake anymore which is why I'm gone by the time your reading this. It isn't you, I love you with all my heart but I'm lonely and I feel empty inside because of it. I just can't stand to be here anymore. But, most of all, I feel that even if I was happy here I could never give you what you want. Stability and responsibility. I never been able to remember the important things. I'm scattered brained and I can never remember for the life of me to pay bills or go to the grocery, if I forget to do it for myself then how can I provide stable childhood to my daughter? Or my husband? It isn't fair to you or her. I love you, I'm sorry but it isn't enough nor right."

-Renee

Preface

Three months after I was born my dad and my mother divorced. My mother was never one for small town life. My grandparents on my dad's side were sick and he needed to stay in Forks to take care of them. And he took a job as an officer at the local police station to support them. But that also meant he spent less time with my mother and she was cooped up by herself constantly. I think that weighed on her. I couldn't completely fault her for being unhappy or wanting to move somewhere more acting. But, I couldn't help but wish they'd worked it out or something rather than her leaving. At the same time at least my childhood wasn't filled with bickering and hatred from my parents, if they were still together there could have been mutual resentment and maybe that would have been worse. I didn't have the best relationship with my mom, I never had after she left my dad I only stayed with her during the summers. And whenever I visited her it felt like I was the parent, I didn't always mind that she wanted to know if I had a boyfriend or who I was friends with or what hobbies I was currently interested in but what bothered me was she was more like a friend than mom. All I had ever wanted was mom not a friend.

But at least I had the greatest dad in the world. He doted me and he never hovered. My dad and I were alike in many ways both more introverted and less social. In some ways though, I think because we were comfortable around each other there could be comfortable silence but also be very talkative with one another. He was more in sports and I was more of a bookworm and yet he took the time to ask me about my books, even if he wasn't one for literature he'd still put in the effort. And even though I despised sports I still asked questions here and there to show I cared.

I loved that about my dad his commitment and unconditional love. It's something I'll always cherish with me. Even if I didn't always get along with my mother, I still loved her. I always would, I will always love them both. So much. I'd do anything for them, even if it meant giving my life for theirs's.

8/10/03

Dear Diary,

My name is Isabella Swan, my friends and family call me Bella, I'm 17-Years-Old and I live in Forks, Washington. My parents are divorced and my mom just remarried. The wedding was beautiful. My dad is still single of course but I can't talk either. I've lived in the sleepy town of Forks since I was a itty bitty baby. My mom left my dad when I was three-months-old. Yikes, right? She only left a note but surprisingly they are on good speaking terms.

My dad was never one for confrontation, he was a very calm and placid guy. My mother on the other hand was erratic and hyper but passionate and loving. My dad was warm and kind but quiet. And my mom was the same except for the quiet part. She was loud and rumbunctious. She hovered and my dad left me to my own devices. He didn't like to be over bearing, he understood I needed space. My mom wanted to know everything, every little detail. She meant well but I wasn't going to say I didn't get annoyed here and there. But I still enjoyed the summers we spent together.

My best friend is Jacob Black, he lives on the reservation. I wish we could go to the same school but we hang on the weekends and spend time building bikes and around bonfires. Jake is a bit younger than me but he's very sweet, a ball of sunshine. I've known him my whole life especially since my father is friends with his. Billy Black. He's like a second father to me, he tells the best stories. We've been doing Thanksgivings and Christmas's as far back as I can remember, I believe my dad and Billy have been friends since High School. He was there for my dad when my mom and dad divorced.

And my other best friend Angela goes to my high school with me. Which, I'm very thankful for. Luckily, we have each other to get through the chaos of High School. Angela and I have a group of friends consisting of Jessica, Mike, Eric, and Tyler. But, I'm the closest with Angela. She's so sweet and bit introverted like me. She's a good listener like me, so we both can talk with one another but also get some good advice. We both like to read and have the same humor. Jessica is the gossip in our group but we can't help but gossip over boys. Ever since her crush on Eric, I've been hounding her over asking him out. And she's been trying to set me and Mike up, I don't have the heart to tell her no. Mike really is only my friend, I think Jessica likes him. Angela been my best friend since we were in diapers and I couldn't have asked for a better friend.

In other words, my life is pretty ordinary and boring. Fun, right?

Anyways, for an early birthday present my mom gave me a diary to write down my thoughts. To help me feel more organized and have a place to vent me thoughts when needed. I thought I should write a little introduction to my life.

Well, hi, this is me. Well, today is the first day of school, so I better get going or else my dad will have my head.

-Sincerely, B.S

Notes: divider by @enchanthings-a idea inspired by a post I saw on tumblr and a fanfiction concepts I saw on reddit.

[beesartstuffs]

Once More To See You (Hannibal AU)

(Art for AU on page, Chapter One, Seven more on Ao3)

Summary:

Will Graham never joined the force, never went to school. Haunted by a brutal childhood and burdened by a mind that won’t let him forget, he spends his life running his dog rescue out of his cluttered home in Wolf Trap, no structure, just fur and chaos and the fragile peace animals bring. Isolated and spiraling into alcoholism, Will hides from the world and from himself, believing the only good he can do is for creatures who can’t speak.

But everything begins to shift when he picks up a rescue from a crime scene and he catches the eye of a well-dressed stranger standing in the distance. Dr. Hannibal Lecter sees something in Will. something broken, something fascinating and he’s not the type to look away.

As Will’s episodes worsen and memories from his past claw their way to the surface, he finds himself drawn to the man who seems to be the only one to truly see him. What begins as therapy teeters into obsession, danger, and a connection.

Tags:

Chapter One:

I live with seventeen dogs. Eighteen, if you count the one under the porch who still doesn’t trust me. I don’t force it, she’ll come in when she’s ready, or she won’t. That’s the rule around here. You come in when you're ready, no one pushes you. 

I don’t have a kennel. I have a living room with claw marks on the doorframes, a kitchen that smells like liver treats and bleach, and a hallway I mop twice a day even though it never actually looks clean. There’s a dog chew in the microwave and someone pissed in my shoe last night. I haven’t figured out who yet. Probably won't, justice is mostly symbolic around here. 

Still there’s a structure to it.  

Wake up at six.  

Feed them.  

Let them out.  

Clean up what they left behind.  

Make calls.  

Take calls.  

Drive out to whatever backroad hell someone left a shaking mess of fur tied to a fencepost in. 

Bring them home.  

Do it all again tomorrow. 

It’s exhausting but it's mine. 

Routine is what keeps the wheels from falling off. If I don’t have that imagery list, I forget to eat, forget to sleep, forget to think. Thinking is dangerous, that’s when the rest of it creeps in. The stuff I can’t outrun. 

I didn’t plan on this life. Didn’t dream of being the barefoot guy at the end of the gravel road with a fridge full of expired vet meds and a porch collapsing under the weight of second chances. But I’ve learned to make peace with it. People used to say I had potential. That I could’ve done something great, if I just let people help me. If I just got out of my own way. But I never did.  

I never got a degree. Never took up any jobs and settled somewhere lonely and cold. And now I’m just a man in a house full of dogs, pretending that saving them makes up for wasting myself. 

But the thing is… they don’t ask for anything I don’t have. They don’t want brilliance or ambition or whatever the hell else people kept expecting from me. They want soft words and gentle hands. A quiet corner to sleep in, that I can give. 

I help them because I know what it’s like to be terrified for no good reason. To flinch when no one's raised a hand. To sit in a room full of warmth and still feel like you’re freezing to death. And maybe that’s enough, maybe the understanding is enough. 

I drink too much. 

 I know that.  

I lie to myself about it every morning and promise I’ll cut back every night. Then I wake up with a headache, step in something, and the cycle begins again. 

But no one here judges me. Not the mutt with half an ear or the one with a heart murmur. Not the blind old shepherd who sleeps at my feet. They don’t care who I could’ve been. They’re just glad I showed up. 

Some days, that’s the only thing that keeps me going. That, and the sound of paws on the floor in the morning. Little lives depending on me. I guess that counts for something. 

People call it empathy, like it’s this beautiful, noble thing. Like feeling everything too much is some kind of virtue. It’s not, it’s a trap. It’s noise I can’t turn off. I don’t have boundaries. If someone’s scared, I feel it in my teeth. If someone’s angry, I taste blood. 

It would’ve been useful, maybe. If I were someone else, who used it to do something important. But I never went that way. I didn’t go to school. Couldn’t sit still long enough for any of it. So now it just sits in me. Like a radio stuck on the wrong station, playing only the worst parts of people. 

It’s not just strangers I pick up on. I feel my father like he’s still standing behind me. Sometimes all it takes is a sound, the clink of glass, the slam of a door, a dog whining too sharp and I’m back there. Ten years old, knees on cold tile. Holding my breath because I spilled his drink. Knowing he’s going to make me pay for it. And I’ll feel it, even now. I feel it. 

I never really left that house. I just grew up and built another one around me and filled it with dogs. Animals I can understand, creatures that don't lie. They bark, they bite, they run. But they don't pretend they love you when they don’t. They don’t hit you and say it's because you needed it. 

People ask why I live like this. Why I isolate and I don’t let anyone in. The hard truth is I don’t trust myself not to break under it. Not to become him or worse, to still be that scared little boy who couldn’t stop shaking, even when it was quiet again. 

So I take care of the dogs. I rescue them and make sure they get to loving homes. Because if someone gets to be safe, even if it’s not me, then maybe the world isn’t all bad. Maybe something good can still come from someone like me. 

I wake up before the sun, like I always do. A dog pressed against my back has been stealing heat all night, and my sheets smell like damp fur and regret. I don’t bother changing them anymore. Why start?

I shuffle through the house in socks, stepping over toys and sleeping bodies. The kitchen light flickers once before it stays on, like it’s half awake too. I feed them in order. Routine matters. Wet food for the old ones. Chicken broth for the jumpy ones. Kibble for the rest. I talk to them while I work, not like I’m trying to be nice, just noise to fill the quiet.

Outside, the frost crunches under my bare feet. The gate swings open, and they bolt past me paws and breath and tails wagging like they don’t know a bad day. I watch them, I’m jealous.

Morning is spent cleaning. Pawprints appear the second I look away. Dishes pile up again by night. I drink coffee, lots of coffee but tend to forget I’m drinking coffee and make a new cup before finding the old one that's gone cold

Afternoon, I’m in the truck, following a call about some poor bastard left tied to a tree behind a trailer park. Windows down, radio static humming. I don’t play music. Lyrics feel like they’re sneering at me.

The dog is bony, eyes too big for his head. I kneel in the dirt and murmur until he lets me leash him. I don’t ask what happened, I don’t have to.

Back home, the light turns gold through the trees. I let the new one in, let the others sniff, let it settle. Dinner, cleaning, checking in on everyone.

Then the drinks start.

One.

Two. 

Three.

The house shrinks around me, full of sleeping dogs and the smell of whiskey and cedar chips. I slump on the couch, glass loose in my hand, half full. I don’t remember finishing the second, or starting the fourth.

The TV flickers, I’m not watching though. Just staring at nothing.

I tell myself to get up. Shower, eat. Do something different. But my limbs feel like lead. The spiral’s started.

By midnight, I’m still here. One dog at my feet, another on my lap. I’m not crying. I don’t do that. I just breathe and wait for sleep to drag me under like a tide I stopped fighting a long time ago.

The morning comes, but I don’t. Not really. I’m trapped beneath the weight of the blanket, sweat soaking the pillow, hands shaking like they want to break free but can’t. My head pounds like a funeral drum, slow and relentless.

The dog’s soft breathing nearby is a reminder of a quiet accusation. He needs me. I need to get him to the vet. But the thought of getting up feels like staring down a cliff I can’t climb. My limbs refuse to obey, and the room shrinks tighter, walls pressing in like they want to suffocate me.

I lie there, heart hammering against my ribs, every breath a shallow panic. The nightmares from last night are still clinging to my skin, ghosts crawling under it, whispering warnings I don’t want to hear. The sweat stings my eyes when I blink.

I want to tell myself to get up. To pull myself together but that thought fills me with a dark, cold dread, like the whole day is waiting to swallow me whole. Even the simple act of standing feels like a betrayal, like I’m choosing to let the panic win.

I don’t move, I can’t. I just lay there, caught in the space between wanting to do what’s right and the crushing fear that I never will.

The only thing that drags me out of bed is the sound of paws scratching at the floor, hungry eyes waiting, patient but insistent. I tell myself they don’t ask questions. They don’t care how broken I am. 

They just want to eat.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, heart pounding as the room tilts beneath me. The nausea rises fast, like a storm in my gut. My hands shake as I stand, and every step toward the kitchen feels like I’m wading through mud.

I fill their bowls, one by one, trying to ignore the sharp sting in my throat. The dogs gather around, tails wagging. I should be grateful, but all I feel is heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of every bad choice I ever made.

I reach for the coffee pot. Black, bitter. I pour it half full and then reach for the bottle beside it. A splash of whiskey, because mornings like this aren’t made for clarity. They’re made for survival. I cradle the cup like it’s a lifeline and sip slowly, trying to convince myself I’ll be okay.

The dogs eat, I drink. The day moves forward, whether I want it to or not.

The drive to the vet is a blur. The dog lies quiet in the passenger seat, head resting on my knee like he knows I’m barely holding it together. I keep my eyes on the road, muscles tense, stomach twisting with every bump. 

The vet’s office smells like antiseptic and hope. The new dog gets poked and prodded, nothing too serious, but enough to keep him here a few hours. I sit in the waiting room, running my hands through my hair, trying not to think about the pile of dogs back home, waiting, barking, needing.

When I finally get him home, it’s late afternoon. The sky is bruised purple. I’m halfway to the couch when my phone buzzes. 

Caller ID flashes a number.

I recognize one of the animal control officers who usually calls when something’s gone wrong. I don’t want to answer. But the dogs don’t feed themselves. Someone has to show up.

The voice on the other end is sharp and urgent. A dog was left abandoned at a crime scene. Poor things family, gone, just like that. A sharp pain hits my chest.

 No time to waste. 

They need me to come get him now.

I close my eyes and press the phone to my forehead. 

Not again. Please, not again.  

But the world doesn’t care about my plea.

I drag myself back into the truck, my hands grip the steering wheel so tight they ache. I know what this means.

At the scene, the air is thick with the smell of gasoline and burned rubber. Yellow tape flutters in the wind like grim banners. I park a little ways off, telling myself to keep it together. 

Don’t look. Don’t imagine. Just get the dog. 

But my mind doesn’t listen.

I see the house, the shattered glass. The dark stains on the porch, a scent of death, of fear, of something I’ve tried to bury deep.

I tell myself to breathe.

To focus on the dog.

He’s sitting in the truck of an animal control officer, trembling like he knows his life has changed. His eyes are wide, unblinking, but there’s a spark, a fragile thread of hope when I bend down and reach out.

I clip the leash on, picking him up, and fight the urge to look around again. To watch the past unfold right before me.

I keep my voice low, steady. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Behind me, a shadow moves, a man stepping out from the other side of the truck.

“Will! There you are.” The voice is bright, too bright for this place. I turn slowly, a faint dull smile forced onto my lips. The animal control officer, Rick, weathered but with that easy smile that’s supposed to put you at ease steps into view.

Rick’s eyes light up like he’s seen an old friend. “How the hell have you been, man? We haven’t caught up in ages. How’s the rescue going?”

I swallow past the tightness in my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s… surviving.”

Rick nods like he understands more than I say. “Good, good. You know, it’s important work. You’re doing a lot out here.”

I force a small, humorless smile and chuckle. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

Rick steps closer, lowering his voice a notch, like he’s sharing a secret. “Listen, I know it’s rough. But you look like you’ve been through hell lately. You holding up alright?”

The question lands like a fist. I want to deflect, to say something clever or just walk away, but the weight of the dog in my arms and the buzzing in my head keeps me rooted.

“Some days are better than others,” I say quietly. “It’s hard to keep it all together.”

Rick nods again. “I get it. You ever wanna talk, you got my number.” He lands a soft punch to my shoulder.

I give a brief nod, already feeling the tight coil of anxiety curling in my chest. The conversation isn’t over, but the dog whines softly, breaking the moment.

I think Rick took the hint and took off to retreat back to his truck, and I tighten my grip on the leash, ready to leave this place behind.

Then, from the edge of the trees, a figure emerges quiet, composed, every movement precise as if choreographed.

His eyes find me, steady and unreadable, weighing without judgment.

“You move as though you carry more than this poor creature,” he says smoothly, his voice low, deliberate, as if savoring each syllable. The man had an accent and an alluring presence.  “Fatigue that no amount of sleep can touch.”

I stiffen. Strangers don’t usually speak this way, not here, not now.

He inclines his head, a polite gesture, eyes flickering with a depth I don’t want to meet.

“I am Dr. Lecter,” he says, voice as calm as a winter lake, “a student of the human mind and its many intricacies.”

I say nothing, watching the dog shift beside me.

He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a simple, elegant card white with black lettering.

“Should you ever find the burden too heavy to bear alone,” Dr. Lecter continues, offering the card with the gentlest of smiles, “know that I am available to listen.”

I take the card, fingers brushing his for a moment longer than necessary.

He steps back, the shadows embracing him as effortlessly as his words embrace the silence.

I stand there, a little more unsteady than before, wondering what it means to be seen by a man like that and whether I want to be.

I lower the dog to the ground letting him walk beside me. Too obedient for a creature that’s just seen something awful. That’s always the worst kind of quiet

My other hand still holds the card.

Dr. Lecter. 

He said it so simply, like he’d been waiting to introduce himself to me. Like he already knew I’d listen.

I don’t know what I expected from today, a headache, sure. A mess to clean up. But not this, what a curious man.

His voice still lingers in my ears, smooth and steady, laced with something I can’t quite name. Not pity, something older and sharper. Something that noticed me too well.

I shouldn’t care. I don’t have the room for it.

But as I toss the card on the passenger seat and guide the dog into the truck, I realize I haven’t stopped thinking about him.

That bothers me.

The drive back to Wolf Trap is short, but it drags. My head feels packed with cotton and broken glass. The sun's dipping below the trees by the time I pull into my driveway, gravel crunching under the tires. The house is still standing, still overrun with barking and paws and clutter, and that’s the only comfort I’ve got left.

I brought the new dog inside, making sure I grabbed the card out of the seat and shove it deep in my pocket.

 He freezes in the entryway, unsure, like he’s waiting for a blow that won’t come. I kneel down and unclip the leash.

“You’re alright,” I murmur. “No one’s gonna hurt you here.”

The others gather, sniffing, crowding, barking. They’re excited to meet the new one. They don’t care that I look like hell. Don’t care that I reek of sweat and nerves and sleeplessness. They just know I came back.

That’s more than I get from most people.

I feed them wet food, broth, and kibble in bowls already half-cracked. They eat like they’ve never known pain. I envy that. Then I open the back door, let them pour into the yard in a rush of tails and teeth and happy sounds.

Only then do I sink into the kitchen chair, elbows on the table, hands buried in my hair.

The card is still in my jacket pocket. I don’t need to look at it to remember the name.

Dr. Lecter.

His face calm, unreadable presses at the edge of my mind. His voice, too articulate to be casual. The way he looked at me like he was cataloguing every fracture, every quiet ruin, and still found it worth examining.

I should throw the card away.

Instead, I pour a drink.

Half coffee. Half something that burns on the way down.

I sit there until the cold creeps in, letting the silence take over.

The dogs will come scratching at the door soon. I’ll let them in, I always do.

But for now, it’s just me, the bottle, and the quiet hum of something I don’t want to name.

Not yet.

I lock the back door after the last of the dogs shuffle inside, their bellies full, their bodies warm against mine as they find places to settle for the night. It’s the only time this house feels like it’s holding itself together when they’re all here, breathing softly in the dark. When I can pretend I’m needed.

I don’t brush my teeth. Don’t change clothes. I just collapsed on the bed, too broken to care if I smelled, clinging to the sheets and my skin.

I close my eyes just for a moment.

A flash.

The scene unfolds like it always does uninvited, unrelenting. I’m back at that porch. The yellow tape flaps like wings, slow-motion in the breeze. The door is cracked open, just enough to invite the imagination. I try to turn away, but my mind walks inside anyway.

The blood is brighter here, fresh. Pooling beneath fingernails, soaking the floorboards. There’s no sound but breath, mine.

Then I’m moving. 

Not watching. 

Doing. 

The knife in my hand is so detailed I can feel the weight of it. The resistance of skin and sinew. The rage, the method, the heat.

I see the victim’s face but it’s already gone slack. Dead long before I even blink.

The walls close in around me. I look down, and the hands are mine.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

But the worst part is I almost understand it.

I jolt violently, breath ragged, shirt soaked through. One of the dogs stirs beside me but doesn’t move.

I sit up, hands in my hair, nausea curling low in my gut. I can still see it, like an afterimage behind my eyes. 

The violence. 

The part of me that could almost believe it was true.

I stand too fast, the floor tilts. I find the kitchen by memory.

The bottle’s still there, half-empty from earlier. I don’t bother with the coffee this time. Just the liquor, straight. Then I pop open the little orange pill bottle beside the sink.

Two pills tonight. 

I don’t care.

I chase them down with a burning swallow, lean against the counter, and wait for the weight to return, not the emotional kind, but the thick, drugged gravity that promises sleep without dreams.

Or at least without memory.

The house is silent now. Still.

And if I’m lucky, it’ll stay that way until morning.

[armybratz123]

The Netflix Devil May Cry show: Why I Think it's Utter Trash

Okay, this is usually not my thing. My sister, Froggy, is the one who usually goes on rants about stuff. Usually, her gothic stories and Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss stuff. But I need to get this out somewhere. My sisters don't know the story as well/don't want to/are tired of hearing it. My brother hasn't seen the show (and no way in hell am I letting him), so he only barely understands when I manage to explain it to him.

So now I'm finally using my account for something outside of my quick ideas that I need to get out and decide are good enough to post.

First off, I want to start on the subject that has the most controversy and mixed reactions among the audience of the Devil May Cry Netflix show. The Makaian refugees, I was wierded out by the concept at first, honestly.

The reason why I didn't care for the Makaian refugees in the Netflix show is that what made Devil May Cry so impactful is that Demons are born bad. With these instincts to hurt and kill and make others miserable. It's what makes stories like Sparda, Trish, and Bradley (a Demon who fell in love with a human in the 2007 anime) so impactful.

Because despite their instincts, their heritage, and how they were raised, they chose to be something different. Something good. It felt out of place, but I could deal with it...... until they started using the refugees to pretty much spit on Sparda's name. The White Rabbit's whole motivation is that humans are ruthless creatures, in his eyes they are the true Demons, and Sparda is an idiot and the real Bad Guy because he chose one helpless, but cruel/unworthy race, over the other helpless race that are suffering, dying, and of his own kind. Another thing that took away the impact of Sparda's deeds.

I didn't entirely care for the Makaian refugees at the start, because I saw them as what I thought them to be, at the time, a tool. Mary (I'm not calling her Lady, that woman in the show is not Lady. She's no Walking Arsenal, she's a fake) was written to hate Demons to the extreme x10, they needed something to the extreme to knock her down a few pegs. Thus, the Makaian refugees.... And then I watch what basically was a reenactment of the Holocaust at the end of the episode. When I was watching the show, there was one part that really stuck with me. It was when the Darkcom soldiers were loading up the refugees under Mary's orders onto the trucks, you know, the ones meant to hold demons with flamethrowers on the inside? I was getting nervous. All I could think of was the stupid flamethrowers, but I had to remind myself that this is supposed to represent change, the humans, overall, are the good guys here. Seeing and helping the refugees will help them see the bigger picture- oH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?

The Vice-President ordered them to kill them all, and they fucking lined the ones left in the building up, and my mind kept blanking out, the images from the stories I read, the stories I learned growing up, of how Jews would be lined up in the streets, in broad daylight even, and executed for the crime of existing. There were tears in my eyes because I saw what was coming next. My gut was screaming about it since I saw the refugees being loaded up in those damned trucks, and I was reminded of the showers in Concentration camps, only this time, instead of gas, it was fire. Which could be argued to be a worse, more painful death. I was crying in the end, not sobbing though, my mouth was too busy hanging beneath my shoulders in horror to be sobbing while I cried.

I wasn't the show's biggest fan or anything, but before that point, I thought the show was okay. I could deal with it, it's not canon, no skin off my back. It could be a what-if Dante never knew his Father and who he is, and Lady had already killed hers since the beginning, so she was no longer after him for revenge. But they did that.

Whether or not the Makaian refugees wrecked the Devil May Cry universe and the impact it was meant to be, we still had reason to cheer for humans, for our people, for justice to come out on top. The whole point of Devil May Cry is to push the boundaries of justice, of what's considered right and wrong, because Demons don't consider those boundaries, so sometimes, tough decisions are made. The point of Devil May Cry's lesson was to reveal the shades of grey that make up the real world and that we alone are in charge of making up our identity. Instead, the Netflix show decided to dig their heels in, shovel themselves a deeper grave, and show us that there is a Black and White, but both are to the extreme that you can't even tell what was right and wrong anymore, with just of sliver of Grey in the middle and the grey is actually just Dante.

And right after that episode, we saw the White Rabbit's and Mary's backstories. It was cool how they did it with the music, little to no sound, music was great too. And then they hit me with the ending again and I just wanted to groan.

I was already emotionally tired and done with the show because the extermination of the Makaian refugees literally just happened at the end of the last episode.

By the end of the show, I just settled for cheering for Dante and hoping he beat the White Rabbit so the divide Sparda made wouldn't be destroyed. He did, and then he mentions him and Mary partnering up and fighting Demons together, protecting humanity. I though I saw Lady, that we were going to get out duo, they will build the Devil May Cry shop together, okay. Alot of sucky bits, but I can be happy with this ending- Mary just betrayed Dante and drugged him to unconsciousness.

Vice President stole the White Rabbit's portal device and is now using it to invade Makai because his Ego is the size of a continent.

And now Dante has been put on ice, like he's a weapon being put away until ready for when is in need to be used again.

You can't- You can't just give me the one thing? Just the one? Seriously? Are you for real? I was ready, I was ready and willing to give you a chance. I am a hardcore Devil May Cry fan who looked into the lore outside of the games and was willing to give you a chance. In fact, I gave you multiple! And in return... You Give Me....... THIS FLAMING PIECE OF HOT GARBAGE!!!

For over an hour. I was pissed for over an hour and felt like I just wasted four hours. Of. My. Life. I wasted four hours of my life right there, because, of course, I binged it. They nerfed Dante, Mary killed more high-end demons than he did, made Lady a backstabbing bitch with a potty mouth worse than Nero's, twisted just about everything that made Devil May Cry what it was, and just pumped up everything to the extreme.

Down in the comments, tell me, did anyone else just give up and start cheering for the demons at the end after Dante was put away? Because to be honest, when Vergil showed up, I wasn't happy he showed up because I like Vergil, no, I was in relief because I was FREAKING CHEERING FOR THE DEMONS AT THE END OF IT!!! I should NOT be cheering for the demons! I was even imagining how Vergil would rescue Dante due to this ending. Just-! JUST-! uuuUUUURRRGGGHHH!!!!!

.

.

.

.

.

.

So yeah. Not a fan.

And yes, being a Devil May Cry fan did make me hate the show. I am aware of my own bias, but I also know myself. I don't like the writing of this show, even if I weren't a Devil May Cry fan, I wouldn't like this show. I wouldn't feel hot burning rage and as if I wasted four precious hours of my life, but I still would dislike the show. I don't know if I would still call it trash if I weren't a fan.

But I am a fan.

So, it's Trash.

[dreamingofmarauders]

Healing Hearts

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Part two to "Broken Hearts"

Part One

Summary: In which Y/n's shattered heart is put back together by Sirius Black

Warnings: Crying and heartbreak but mostly fluff (I think)

A/N: I'm finally releasing a sequel to 'Broken Hearts' after forever. I kind of wished it turned out different but oh well. Hope you all like it! <3

Tags: @imgondeletedis @hisparentsgallerryy @bugworldsworld @therealmsmisery

Masterlist

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Watching Sirius with someone else finally broke Y/n completely.

The cup fell from her grasp as a sob made its way out. Tears cascaded down her cheeks and she felt the room close in on her.

She took in a ragged breath and one thought crossed her mind: To get out of here.

She hastily made her way to the exit, pushing through people and not caring when they gave her an annoyed glare. She needed to get away.

What she didn’t realize was that Remus had seen her rush out and his heart clenched, however his eyes returned to his other best friend at the sudden sound.

Sirius shoved the girl, who Remus recognized was in Ravenclaw, away and glared at her menacingly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The girl looked mildly confused before she grinned, a tipsy smile on her lips. “Oh Black, don’t act so good now. We both know what you want.”

Sirius growled, “Actually, you don’t know what I want.” He inhaled sharply. “In fact, I think I really have been wasting my time this whole time.” Sirius looked around the common room, trying to catch sight of the one who ruled his heart.

Remus placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder making the boy look at him.

“She just left, Pads. She needed a break from everything.”

Sirius realized what Remus’ underlying message was in the last word and he clenched his eyes shut, hating himself because if Remus was indeed correct about y/n reciprocating Sirius’ feelings, he had hurt her one too many times and he was the one to blame.

Sirius nodded and made his way out hurriedly, ignoring the protests of the Ravenclaw who was trying to cling forcibly onto him again. He knew where y/n would be, she always went there when she was upset and Sirius began to run like he had never before in his life.

After what felt like painfully long minutes, he began to ascend up the stairs to the Astronomy tower and as he neared the top, heart wrenching sobs made their way into his ears, tormenting him. When he finally reached the top, the sight in front of him broke Sirius' heart.

Y/n had her knees brought into her chest, having buried her face as she cried, hating herself for having fallen for someone who she thought would never love her back.

Sirius silently walked over and took a seat beside y/n, who still hadn't noticed the new arrival. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and y/n stilled, slowly raising her head as she wiped the tears away. Sirius felt his eyes gloss over.

"Sirius, what are you doing here?"

Sirius tentatively reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, making y/n's breath hitch.

"Love, I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"For putting you through this."

Y/n tensed up, wondering if he knew.

Sirius sighed and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"I am so sorry, Y/n. I should have said this earlier darling and I hate myself for putting you through this." Sirius let a tiny smile flicker on his lips. "I love you, y/n."

Y/n was stunned.

"You what?"

"I love you." Sirius repeated as he awaited a reaction from the girl. Y/n stared at him in shock and disbelief. Her heart did a flip and smile made its way onto her lips, making Sirius feel relieved. However, the next second the smile vanished and y/n moved away from Sirius' touch, breaking his heart at the action.

"No. You're lying-"

"I'm not, sweetheart." Sirius interrupted, trying to make y/n understand but she slowly stood making Sirius copy her action. She shook her head, her eyes tearing up.

"No, you don't. You don't love me. This isn't fair." She told him, tears welling up in her eyes again, "You can't play with my feelings-"

"I would never ever play with you, y/n," Sirius said, his voice becoming desperate, as he didn't know how to make y/n understand that his love for her is real and not a lie.

Y/n let out a whimper, turning away as she buried her face in her hands.

"Love, please," Sirius said, desperation evident in his voice, "Please believe me." He watched y/n raise her head, turning back to face him.

"I really want to believe you, Siri," She told him, "But I'm too scared for it to be false, for my heart to be broken. I know if I give myself to you, only for you to leave me later, I won't be able to take it." She told him, tears racing down her face.

Sirius sighed sadly, taking a step closer, carefully placing his hand on her cheek, in case she moved away. However, Sirius slightly relaxed when y/n didn't, who was looking at him with red rimmed eyes.

"Dove, give me a chance to prove my love for you, and after that, whatever your decision is, I'll accept without any protest." Sirius expressed earnestly, to which she found herself melting and nodded, placing her hand above his and removing it from her face, to take it in between her own.

"Fine. I'll give you a chance. If I find that what you mean is true, I'll give us a chance." Y/n told him softly.

Sirius' face broke into the largest smile. It wasn't a complete yes, but it was a start.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" He said, picking y/n up and spinning her. When he set the girl down, he said, "I promise you my love, I will only love and love you from this day on."

Y/n smiled up at him before gently extracting herself from his arms.

"You still need to prove yourself, handsome." She told him, to which Sirius grinned.

"I'm not leaving your side at all, dovie, I'll prove myself to you in no time."

Y/n just gave the boy a small smile before turning back, going to lean against the railing, "Go back to your party, Sirius." She told him, gazing up at the sky, feeling a lot lighter now.

Sirius looked at her back before grinning, joining the girl by her side, making her look at him with a quizzical expression.

"I'd rather stay here with you, love." He said, winking down at y/n who felt herself smile and the two turned their gaze onto the beautiful starry night, their hearts easing from the pain their separation had caused, but instead the two hearts beginning to thread together into one.

Their broken hearts turning into healing hearts.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[venusianbarbiedoll]

✧✦ 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

I am the daughter of Aphrodite and a mortal man named Eduardo Valencia. I was raised by my father since my mother couldn’t take care of me, seeing that she’s a goddess and all. We lived in Starling City and I went to school there. He wasn’t the best dad considering he was always at work. But he was all I had.

We used to live in Central City where my best friends were Wally and his cousin, Jack, also lived up until I was eight years old and then we moved to Starling City. The reason why we left was because my Dad got a job offer in a construction company. It paid a bit more so we moved.

I lived with him until I was twelve years old. That was when Count Vertigo murdered him by injecting him with his drug. Following this, I stayed with my Mom on Mount Olympus for the next few years. I was shocked to hear that Zeus was allowing her to take me in, but incredibly grateful as well. During that time, she taught me more about my powers and magic. It also gave me the opportunity to learn more about my celestial heritage and family. I bonded with my relatives like Apollo, Hestia, Artemis, Aphrodite (of course), etc. It was amazing but eventually I had to go back to Earth.

After returning, I decided to avenge my father's death by battling criminals and investigating his killer. I adopted the code name Cosmic Cupid in honor of my mother, the goddess of love. While I occasionally use a bow and arrow, my primary weapons are daggers.

my weapons:

At the age of fourteen, while thwarting a robbery, Black Canary and Green Arrow found me and offered their assistance. They asked me who my parents were. When I told them that I had none, they took me in.

Through them, I met Roy and, eventually, my future best friend, Artemis. They trained me, and I joined the new team for the “sidekicks” alongside Robin, Kaldur, and Wally. Although Roy didn't join the team, we maintained contact and he was always kind to me, like an older brother.

It wasn’t too long after joining the team that pI found out who my father really was. Before he died, he was a villain known as The Prowler and he worked for horrible people—the same people who were hurting Starling City, the place I called home. I found this out after I met Oliver and Dinah, my adoptive parents.

How did I find out about this? Well, Sportsmaster (Artemis’ dad) let it slip once when I was fighting him. He didn’t know who I was though, not my real identity at least. He was just bringing my father up because he said that I had eyes that resembled his greatly. Well, he said that I had the same eyes as The Prowler technically, not those of Eduardo Valencia as I knew him. But who’s to say that he didn’t know that I was The Prowler’s daughter…?

I haven’t told anyone since finding out. How could anyone trust me if they knew my father was a horrible person who had committed crimes for a living? It shamed me to be related to someone who could do such horrible things. I would just have to keep it to myself in the meantime; but like they say, the truth always comes out, one way or another.

my superhero suits:

my mission suits:

my training suits:

[starlightandfairies]

Lonely Nights ~Enzo St. John~

Description: Reader experiences many lonely nights and Enzo is finally the person to be the desired comfort.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, angst, mentions of drinking

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,581

First Person's POV

Sitting in the small apartment that I owned, alone for another night as Team Save Elena worked their little butts off to accomplish rescuing her from her stupidity and be her babysitter yet again. I had grown astray from them, and when I finally realised that Elena was far more important than everyone else, I couldn't allow myself to be near that and by doing so I lost the majority of my friends. 

A rhythmic knock filled my ears; alerting me to the door, hesitantly I approached the door, glanced through the peephole and instantly became confused seeing Enzo standing on the other side. I could trust Enzo, he was a good man despite what Stefan echoed repeatedly on a loop saying that he wasn't. 

"Lorenzo." I smiled, opened the door and invited him in. 

"Hello, gorgeous." He whispered, with a smirk growing across his lips, stepping inside my apartment and waited for my attention as I closed the door and proceeded to lock it. 

"What can I do for you, Lorenzo?" I smiled, glancing down to the basket in his hands, raising an eyebrow as he handed it me and shrugged his jacket off, placing it neatly on the couch. 

"I figured since you have been shunned by everyone... what is it that you call it?" 

"Team save Elena." His chuckle was gorgeous to listen to, the vampire gestured to my couch and sat down beside me once I took my seat. 

"Right, Team save Elena. Anyway, seeing as those bastards left you alone because you realised what none of them could I thought you could have some company and I've noticed just how joyful you seem when we are together." 

"Don't get too cocky... but thank you. It really means a lot to me, thank you." He brought me to his side, his cologne tickling my nostrils as he rested a soft but chaste kiss on the side of my forehead. 

"Anything for you, gorgeous." 

The silence between the two of us lingered for a moment; it was comforting, heartfelt and peaceful. The kind of silence that an elderly couple would share after many happy years together, Enzo was good to me and having that goodness in my life from someone who actually cared- I cannot begin to describe just how perfect it was in my eyes. 

"So, I figured you and I could watch some films, eat some popcorn and whatever else I threw together in that package for you. What do you say?" The idea of having a movie night was delightful, being able to be a normal person with someone who I wish could be my boyfriend. 

"That's lovely, Lorenzo." 

"Please, Y/N, call me Enzo. I don't know how many times I have to ask this. I'll go get the popcorn cooking and set up the rest of the snacks. You pick something to watch." He shot a wink, leaving to head towards the small kitchen in the adjoining room. 

I chose a movie, grabbed the blanket from off my bed, and settled down on the couch, glancing into the basket that Enzo had brought with him. There was a little teddy bear, a vase with flowers and a small box with a little bow on top. 

"I see curiosity got the better of you." Enzo smiled, sitting down and placed the bowls of food on the coffee table. He rested the box in his lap, handing me each individual item while giving a little speech about each item. 

"A teddy bear because that one night when you got drunk at the bar, hardly able to stand up I took you here and got you settled in bed and saw all those teddy bears from your childhood and thought why not give you one that you could have to add to the others?" 

"I love it, thank you." The kind gesture made my heart sore with happiness, I rested a kiss on his cheek, thanking him for the gift. I rested the teddy bear in my lap, watching as he pulled out the flowers. 

"Roses and carnations as they are your favourite flowers." He carefully rested them to the side, his eyes never once leaving me as he grabbed out the final gift he wished to share with me. He handed me the little box with a bow, resting the basket to the side, watching me anticipation filling his gorgeous dark eyes. 

"You really did not have to get me all of this. Thank you, Enzo... thank you so much." Enzo's arms wrapped tightly around my waist as I threw my arms over his shoulders, his head buried in the crook of my neck a gentle smile forming on his lips as he pulled up and urged me to open the final gift. 

I did just as he asked, opening the present and smiling as an antique heart locket met my gaze, scared that it would crumble in my hands, I picked it up as if it were the most fragile item in the world and opened the silver piece of jewellery, seeing the photo of the two of us together. 

"It's beautiful, would you help me put it on, please?" 

"Anything for you gorgeous." Enzo's tender hands placed the locket on, his hand moving to rest on the side of my face for a moment as the British vampire seemed deep in thought as he stared into my eyes. 

"What movie did you choose to watch?" Enzo rested back against the couch, missing the eager look that crossed my eyes and yet he just continued to smile at me as if I were the greatest thing in the world. As if I were the only thing that mattered to him and I wish for that to be true. 

"Love Actually. It's a holiday film, seeing as we're entering the holiday season and seeing as you're here I figured why not share my favourite modern holiday film with someone that cares about me the same way that I care about them." 

"I cannot wait," Lorenzo whispered, resting another kiss on my forehead, smiling as he managed to conjure up a blush on my cheeks. We watched the film, cuddling up halfway through the film, Enzo seemed deeply hypnotised by the film, intrigued by the 'hidden meaning' or he was just enjoying the smile that was plastered on my face that always showed up when I watched this film. 

"So, what did you think?" I questioned, genuinely curious to hear what he had to say.

"It's got obscure humour, however, I do enjoy the film and seeing you smile the way you did as you watched this film. It just makes me feel good to be able to see that smile, you look so gorgeous when you smile. I want you to be happy." Enzo smiled as he said his words, I cannot explain what happened next, tears just started welling in my eyes and I cradled into him as he instantly pulled me into his arms. 

"I'm sorry, it's just... having you care for me, having someone that really does care for me..." 

"Shh, I know, gorgeous. I know. I'm here for you and I'm not gonna disappear. You don't have to worry." Enzo whispered, he began stroking my hair, the misunderstood vampire continued to do this until he soothed me into a calmer state of mind. 

"Would you like to stay for the night?" I whispered against his chest, finding his comfort too desirable to be suddenly taken away by his leave to do whatever it is he does when he is alone. 

"I'd love to." 

"I'll set up the blow-up mattress." 

"Don't worry about it, love... this couch is perfect for that fairytale character Sleeping Beauty. I'm quite happy to be sleeping here." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Of course. Don't worry about me, love. You get some rest, you look tired." 

"Goodnight Enzo, I'll see you tomorrow morning." I don't even know why I did this, it was almost like it was a habit, I bent down, rested a kiss on his lips and instantly pulled away once I realised what I did. 

"I am so, so sorry... oh gosh." Enzo pulled me down onto his lap, shutting me instantly as he placed a tender kiss upon my lips, bringing me closer to him, holding me and kissing me with so much desire yet he was tender and gentle. Enzo was the first to pull away, however, he seemed reluctant to do so. 

"I have been waiting too long to do this." 

"You have?" 

"Of course I have, you are utterly perfect and you desire so much more than you give yourself credit for. Promise me something, Y/N" I leant into his touch as he caressed my cheek, smiling at him as he lovingly grinned at me and began to say the words that he wanted me to promise.

"Promise me that you'll allow yourself to be happy before anyone else, no more putting yourself below others and remember that you come first." I rested a small kiss on his lips, nodding to his request and smiled as he brought me closer to curl into his arms. 

"I can promise you that" 

"Thank you." Enzo's voice echoed in my ears as I fell asleep. 

[zafill]

Oh, hi!! this is my first time doing a request.

Could you do obanai × new fem hashira, he finds her intriguing because she's another person who has heterochromia. Her eyes are blue on the right and red on the left. Her breathing technique is smoke breathing. You could easily tell her breathing by the way her hair is grey, white and black.

But if you don't mind, the character grew up from a black market and Obanai learns that her motivation to keep going is that she does it out of spite from her abusers.

Idk what else to put and what I think I wrote is vague but yeah, have a nice day!!

weak? yeah right.

this is so sigma, trust (this is so short bro, dont get me wrong, i love the idea, but i just couldnt get myself to write more or go into detail </3)

-----

It was a quiet morning at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters, the kind where the air felt thick with anticipation but nothing stirred on the surface. Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira, was meditating by the courtyard, his eyes closed, the feeling of the cool breeze brushing against his skin.

But something—or rather, someone—disrupted the calm. He noticed her immediately.

She stood just outside the gates, her silver-white hair catching the sunlight, the streaks of grey and black giving her an ethereal, smoky appearance. She had her back to him, as if she was waiting for something, or perhaps someone. He could sense the air around her, thick with the faintest trace of smoke—a unique, subtle aroma. It reminded him of the dense fog that rolled in from the mountains during early mornings.

Her breathing.

It was so distinct, yet unfamiliar in a way that intrigued him. Obanai’s sharp eyes locked onto the back of her head, trying to process everything in an instant. She was not like the others. Her presence was strange, a mystery he was compelled to solve.

He noticed her eyes first—strikingly unusual, not just because of their color, but the way they seemed to carry a story in their depths. Her left eye was a dark crimson, glowing with a deep intensity, while the right one was an unsettling blue, as vivid as the summer sky. Heterochromia. Another one like him.

He didn’t know why, but he felt drawn to her, perhaps because of the resemblance between their eyes, or maybe it was the quiet yet powerful aura she emanated. It was a strange connection, something unspoken, but undeniably present.

The woman turned around, and for a split second, their eyes met—Obanai’s sharp, cold stare locking with hers. There was something unreadable in her expression, a mix of caution and curiosity.

Obanai took a step toward her, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.

“You’re the new Hashira, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

The woman nodded slightly, not speaking at first. She didn’t seem intimidated, nor did she offer a word of welcome. Instead, she tilted her head just a fraction, as if she was studying him, trying to read him as much as he was reading her.

“Yes,” she replied finally, her voice just as soft, but there was a sharpness to it, like the edge of a blade. “I’m the Smoke Hashira.”

Obanai couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Smoke breathing. He had never heard of such a technique. He was intrigued, more so than he’d care to admit. He could already see it in the way she stood, how her hair swayed as if it were drifting in the wind, an extension of the smoke that she commanded.

He studied her in silence for a moment, taking in her form, her stance. There was strength in her, but it was laced with something else—something raw.

“You’re... different,” he said, narrowing his eyes, his attention fixed on the intricate details of her being. "Your hair. The way you breathe. It’s all... strange."

She looked up at him then, her expression still unreadable. “I was always told that I was strange.”

He hesitated. There was something about her, something that both bothered and fascinated him. Her gaze flickered to the side, and for a brief moment, Obanai saw something else behind her eyes—something that lingered beneath her cool demeanor. He knew that look all too well: a sort of quiet defiance.

“Where did you come from?” Obanai asked, his tone shifting slightly. There was genuine curiosity now, the harshness in his voice replaced by something more human.

Her expression tightened, and her lips thinned into a tight line. She wasn’t willing to reveal much, but he could see the weight behind her words when she spoke again.

“A place where people like me don’t survive long.” She paused, looking away for a moment, as though the memories were too painful to relive. “I did, though. Not because of any skill or strength. I survived because of spite. Spite for the ones who thought they could break me. Spite for the ones who thought I was weak.”

Obanai’s eyes narrowed as he processed her words. Spite, huh? He understood that feeling. It was what had driven him all these years. The rage that burned inside of him, the need to prove himself against those who had written him off.

“So, you keep going,” Obanai said softly, his eyes never leaving hers, “because you want to prove them wrong.”

The woman looked at him for a long moment, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She nodded slowly. “Yes. And because the world is full of people like them. And they need to be reminded that they were wrong.”

Obanai’s expression softened slightly, though his posture remained tense. He understood her more than he wanted to admit. There was a darkness inside her, but it was one that had kept her going, had shaped her into the warrior standing before him now.

"You’re not alone in that," he said quietly, his voice softening ever so slightly. "I understand that feeling."

She studied him for a moment, her red and blue eyes flickering with something that might have been the beginning of understanding, or perhaps the start of something more.

For the first time, the distance between them seemed to shrink, and Obanai found himself feeling... intrigued. More than just by her breathing technique, or her unusual eyes. He was intrigued by her story, her resilience, her fire.

"Maybe we can help each other, then," he said, his voice steady again. “And maybe, just maybe, we’ll make them regret ever thinking we were weak.”

[lunalosers2]

This isn't a problem

Prologue:Amid end-of-the-world chaos and supernatural threats, a very human problem unexpectedly arises. How will Dean and the reader face something so normal—and yet so life-changing?

After Sam and Dean stopped the apocalypse, I really believed we’d finally get some peace. I mean, without the father of all evil around, who could possibly torment us? If you guessed “the mother,” you’re right.

“The Mother of All,” as we came to know her, started out as just a rumor. We didn’t even know if she was real—or even possible. But the string of strange events that followed proved otherwise.

It all happened so fast. It wasn’t like Lucifer’s rise, carefully planned and executed. No, she hit like a tidal wave, no warning, just pure destruction for anyone in her path. Which meant... we had work to do.

Whenever something threatens humanity, we’re the ones called in. Especially Sam and Dean. I don’t usually get involved in the physical stuff—I’m much better at finding things no one else can. A photographic memory kind of makes me a walking encyclopedia of all things supernatural. But hand-to-hand combat? Not exactly my strong suit.

Still, I’d never let the boys face something that dangerous alone. Especially not after what I found out last week.

Dean and I were together for nearly five years. It started with banter and teasing, but eventually, we got tired of the games and gave in. We had our ups and downs—he wanted out of the hunting life at one point, and I knew I was too tied to it to ever really let go.

Then came Lisa. That broke me. While he played house with her, I worked alongside soulless Sam for almost a year. Dean had left the life behind, and I told myself I didn’t tell him Sam was alive because I was respecting his wishes—but honestly? It was payback. I wanted him to feel the same betrayal I did when I watched him move on so quickly after Sam "died."

When Dean finally found out Sam was alive, things slowly returned to normal—well, except for the whole “missing soul” issue. I was one of the first to notice something was off. I tried talking to Grandpa Samuel, but he brushed me off, saying hell changes people. But I knew better. Dean had been to hell too, and he never lost who he was.

It took time—and a lot of sacrifice—but we got Sam’s soul back. And during all that, Dean and I found our way back to each other. He admitted his time with Lisa wasn’t just a fling; he cared about her. But he also knew it was more about escaping and keeping a promise than building a life.

When we reconnected, I decided to take things slow. No labels. My heart was still bruised, and only I knew how much I’d suffered after our breakup. Dean was understanding, though he thought it was silly to waste more time when we both knew we were meant to be.

After the chaos that came with Eve, I thought things couldn’t get more complicated. Then I saw the positive result on the pregnancy test I’d taken just to be sure.

This couldn’t be happening. I’d been with Dean for five years and never got pregnant—why now?

It’s been two days since the positive, and I still haven’t told him. Maybe now isn’t the right time. Dean’s already got enough on his plate. Apparently, so do I—because we’re all gathered in Bobby’s living room, and I only snapped back to reality when Sam raised his voice.

“Hey. You okay? You kind of zoned out.” My friend—and future baby uncle—asked with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, Sam. Go on.”

“Now that we have the phoenix ash, we need to find Eve,” Sam continued.

“Right. I’ll start digging.” I agreed and left the room to grab my laptop from the guest room.

“Hey, beautiful. Are you really okay?” Dean asked from the doorway. I hadn’t even noticed he’d followed me.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep and start researching later?” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“We don’t have time for that, Dean. While we sit here talking, who knows what that psycho’s up to out there.”

“Well, once we deal with her, I’ll give you a full-body massage as a reward,” he said with that cocky grin.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you, Winchester?”

Dean smiled and kissed me gently before pulling away.

“I’ll let you work. I know I’m not great for focus.”

“You know what I love most about you, Dean? Your modesty,” I teased as he left the room laughing.

Dean Winchester has a way of making all the weight on my shoulders vanish with just a few words. I started digging into the research, but frustration quickly took over. After almost an hour of getting nowhere, I slammed the laptop shut. For the first time in years, I found nothing. No leads. I felt useless. This was the one thing I was supposed to be good at—finding what no one else could—and I hit a wall.

I went down to the basement where everyone else was. Dean was fussing with shotgun shells filled with phoenix ash. As soon as I stepped in, all eyes turned to me.

“Got nothing,” I said sharply, catching them off guard. “I have an idea though... but we’ll need Cas.”

We usually only called Castiel when things were truly out of human hands. But this time, I just couldn’t find the answers.

“All right,” Sam said gently, resting a hand on my shoulder.

“Maybe it’s time you call him,” Bobby told Dean.

“Why is it always me? It’s not like he’s always breathing down my neck or—” Before Dean could finish, Castiel appeared right behind him, absolutely crushing his personal space. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Cas! Personal space, man!” Dean jumped.

“I wasn’t—” Castiel looked genuinely confused, which made it even funnier.

Then, suddenly, Castiel’s expression shifted as he looked directly at me. His head tilted slightly, confusion giving way to realization. He stepped closer, his gaze narrowing. “Hi, Cas,” I greeted.

He looked straight at me and leaned in close to whisper, “Do they know?”

“Shut up,” I muttered back.

No one noticed our little exchange—except Bobby, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Any leads on Eve?” Cas asked the group.

“No. I tried everything. She’s hiding,” I admitted.

“She’s hidden from all the angels too,” Cas added.

“Great,” Dean muttered.

Honestly? That made me feel better. If even the angels couldn’t find her, I didn’t feel so useless. I suggested we reach out to some of the more “friendly” monsters we’d met over the years—Eve was reaching out to all her “children,” after all. Maybe they’d know something.

It took a while, but Cas brought us Lenore, a vampire girl Sam and Dean had once saved. She looked awful—filthy and terrified.

She told us Eve was in Oregon—and that she knew we were coming. After helping us, Lenore asked the boys to kill her. None of us were okay with it. Except Cas, who touched her forehead and let her lifeless, twisted body drop to the floor.

It was disturbing—but we had to keep moving.

Once we reached the town, Cas lost his powers. Apparently, being near the Mother of All blocked him. Things just kept getting worse. People were going missing. The boys found corpses—tons of them—including a pile of duplicate bodies of a missing boy. One "copy" of the boy was still alive, but barely. Seeing him sick, surrounded by corpses of himself, coughing like he’d shatter, made me run out and throw up.

Cas followed and put a hand on my back as I sat on the curb, shaking.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his eyes piercing through me, even powerless.

“I have to be here, Cas. I’m part of this.”

“You’re pregnant. If Eve finds out, she’ll use that against you.”

“She won’t—if you keep your mouth shut.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the boys came out of the house, and he held back.

The kid’s info led us to a bar, where Dean called the creatures we fought “Jefferson Starships”—a stupid name for some really nasty monsters.

Somehow, we ended up cuffed—everyone but Dean. At the station, Sam noticed the eyes of the officers shining on the security cams. “Jefferson Starships!” he shouted, and he and Bobby jumped into action. I was taken down in ten seconds flat, crashing into a desk with a sharp pain in my back. My first thought wasn’t even the pain—it was the baby.

Dean showed up just in time to help them kill two creatures and capture the third for interrogation. I sat in silence, still shaken.

“You okay? I saw you get hurt,” Cas said, coming over.

“I suck at this fighting stuff, you know that.”

“That’s not why you’re worried.”

“You think something happened?” I whispered.

“If I had my powers, I’d know. But right now—I don’t.”

While Bobby interrogated the Starship, Sam and Dean returned with two boys. One of them wasn’t talking at all. The guys decided to drop them with their only known relative. I agreed. Cas hated the idea. Bobby didn’t argue—he knew it was pointless.

While we waited, Cas tortured the creature until it gave up Eve’s location. Turned out it was the same diner we’d stopped at when we arrived.

“Look, there’s gonna be a fight in there. You should stay in the car,” Dean said.

I wanted to argue—but after what happened at the station, something shifted in me. Nothing mattered more than protecting that baby now.

“Okay,” I said simply.

Dean looked surprised. Usually I’d fight him on it. He didn’t question it though—just kissed me and joined the others.

I listened as they talked, then watched Sam and Dean go inside. A few minutes later, the windows were covered, and my stomach dropped.

Cas and Bobby were ready to go in when we were ambushed by demons. I tried to hide, but they knew I was there. Two dragged me out of the car. There was nothing I could do.

They forced us into the diner. Sam and Dean sat inside, tense. The woman—Eve—looked like their mom now. She smiled at us.

“Well, there goes your Plan B.”

She kept pushing them, trying to get them to work for her. Dean refused every time.

“I’ll kill everyone you love, Dean. Including your girl—and the little Winchester she’s carrying.” She smiled as Dean’s eyes filled with confusion. “Oh? Did I spoil the surprise?”

Dean was stunned. I could see the panic. I locked eyes with him.

“Do what you have to do, Dean. We trust you.”

Suddenly, her hand was around my neck, choking me.

Dean snapped. Everything happened so fast—Eve bit him. It should’ve been a disaster—but it was the answer. She started to die. Dean smirked, telling her he drank phoenix ash in his whiskey.

Once she was gone, Cas regained his powers, wiped out the demons, and healed Dean. Then he flew us to the boys’ relatives’ house—only to find everyone murdered by demons. Crawley might still be alive.

It had been a brutal night. I could barely stand when we got back to Bobby’s. He let us crash there to recover.

Dean was silent the whole way back, but I could feel the questions boiling inside him. Before he could say anything, I went to the guest room and sat on the bed. It didn’t take long before he followed and closed the door behind him.

“Is it true?” he whispered. I nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying to process it. I didn’t even know how I felt—how could I handle your reaction?”

“What reaction were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, Dean. You’ve already got enough to worry about.”

“Yeah, but this? This isn’t a problem.”

“A baby in the middle of all this? It is a problem. I’m scared out of my mind!”

Dean sighed and sat next to me, pulling me into his arms.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll protect this kid.”

“I don’t even know if it’s okay, Dean.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t see it. Those things—Starships—they threw me across the station.”

Dean’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen it happen.

Then Cas appeared in the middle of the room.

“The baby’s fine,” he said calmly. “I can see now. I just wanted to give you two a moment.”

And just like that—he vanished.

I exhaled in relief, finally meeting Dean’s eyes. He had a small smile on his lips.

“I always wanted to be a dad.”

“Well, I hope you remember that when it’s your turn for 3 a.m. diaper duty,” I teased.

Dean laughed, the sound a little rough but genuine.

“See? You’re already getting your humor back. Told you—we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

I let myself lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart, grounding me in a world that rarely gave us solid ground.

“For the first time in a long time,” I whispered, “I actually believe that.”

He kissed the top of my head, arms tightening around me like he never wanted to let go.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because this kid’s already got one hell of a family.”

Outside the door, the world was still dangerous, uncertain. But in that room—in that moment—it felt like maybe, just maybe, we had a future worth fighting for.

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Hey thanks for reading. I was thinking about writing a part two, let me know if you're interested.

XO