#Evermore cries tears

[evermorethecrow]

This is for the eyes of @emtearzz specifically, I'm politely asking every and anyone else to ignore this for the sake of my reputation and heart pls pls pls I know I'm shameless but not THIS shameless

I'll post the second half in a bit

[kahans]

'tis the damn season or long story short?

and the heart i know i'm breakin' is my oooown... to leave the warmest bed i've ever owned...

tis the damn season babey <3

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

Evermore (part 1)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Category: Heavy angst

Summary: After Emily’s death, everything comes falling apart, losing yourself into your old habits. Little did you know that you were secretly talking to her the whole time.

TWs: active self-harm, blood, mentions of suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts. please do not read it if you’re in a bad place. my dms are always open for anyone.

Word count: 7K

“And I couldn`t be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for

Evermore”

Your whole world turned upside down with those seven words that came out of JJ’s mouth.

“She never made it off the table”

From that moment, it didn't take more than five seconds for the first stage of grief to settle: denial.

No no no no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't…this couldn't be happening. This was NOT how your story was supposed to end. This can’t be it, right? God please make her come back, please…

Your ears started ringing, and you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped too, blood running cold in an instant. With the biggest pain in your chest that you’ve ever felt in your entire life, you got up from that hospital chair without saying a word, going in JJ’s direction.

You needed to see her. You had to see her. This couldn’t be happening.

”I…I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye”, you heard Spencer from behind, and it broke the last piece of strength that you had left.

You didn’t get to say goodbye either.

”JJ, I need to see her”, you heavily let out, like someone was pushing rocks onto your chest so hard that you could barely breathe.

“y/n”, she stopped you in front of her, pulling you into a hug.

”JJ please”, you sobbed in her arms, almost not being able to stand up.

“It’s going to be okay”, she repeatedly whispered into your ear.

And if you would’ve had it in yourself at that moment, you would’ve screamed how it’s never going to be okay.

How could it ever be okay living without the love of your life?

“Let your last memory of her be a good one, y/n. Please. She’d want it to be this way”, she told you.

And you broke down right in the middle of the waiting room, your legs giving out any remaining shred of strength. You wailed and cried and yelled and begged for Emily to come back to you, hoping that she would come right through those doors.

But she didn’t.

This couldn’t be happening.

—

In those almost four years that you’ve been dating, Emily’s apartment was your home more than yours ever was. You had everything there - your toiletries, clothes, CDs - you could say that you were actually living there, even though there wasn’t anything “official”.

But now, standing there in the middle of the hallway, alone, you couldn't stop the new wave of tears coming from your eyes.

This place has never felt so wrong.

I want to go home.

Your soul ached intensely at the thought - you’re never going to be home again. Looking around, you barely recognized the place, even though nothing was out of its place. It was just…wrong.

It was so quiet.

Slowly, your body made its way to the bedroom by itself and you crashed into the mattress, not even caring that you’ve been wearing the same clothes the whole day.

You painfully looked at Emily’s side of the bed, and it only made you cry harder. You couldn’t fathom the fact that you were never going to have her by your side ever again - you still hoped that this was the biggest nightmare you’ve ever experienced and that you’re going to wake up soon to her being alive and well, right there next to you.

”Come back Emily, please come back”, you sobbed into your pillow, “I can’t do this without you”.

—

When you thought you couldn’t feel worse, you quickly realized that you can - and you will.

Because nobody prepares you for burying the love of your life.

The only thing that stopped you from breaking down crying was that you wanted to put on a brave face for Emily, to be able to say a few last words to her before she would forever disappear into the ground.

With a trembling hand, you placed the white rose on her casket, fighting back the tears that were slowly appearing. You were the last one to do it, but that little extra time didn’t make you feel even remotely more prepared.

With your vision already blurry, you made your way to the speaker.

How were you supposed to tell goodbye to the person you love the most?

”I…uhm, hi”, you sniffled, trying to compose yourself, “as you all know me, I’ll skip the introduction. I am not standing in front of you today just to remind you that I am…was Emily's girlfriend, but to say that it was the most beautiful experience of my life to be able to know her…to really know her. To speak of her is to speak of warmth and kindness, of laughter that could light up even the darkest rooms. She was not just my girlfriend, but my best friend, the person who could easily shove away all my fears, who always listened to my stupid ramblings and was my biggest supporter. Her presence was a blessing to all of us, and her absence leaves a void that cannot be filled”, you felt the pain of your words hitting your chest, wishing nothing more but to be able to fill that unrepairable void.

“From the moment we met, which was three years and seven months ago, we were inseparable. Like two pieces of a puzzle - as cheesy as it sounds”, you brought your left hand to your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears.

”She loved those cheesy comments so much, even though she would never admit it”, you chuckled humorlessly, and everyone else did the same, “But Emily’s love didn’t stop at me. She loved you, all of you, so much”, you almost whispered the last words while looking at the team, “and that day we did everything we could to save her, it just wasn’t…wasn’t”…enough, you wanted to say but refrained.

“My love”, you looked at the casket in front of you, “I wish I knew that the last day I saw you would be the last. I would’ve listened to you speak for longer, I would've looked at you longer, I would’ve sat closer to you. And I wouldn’t have left you alone, despite how desperately you’ve asked me to. But you’ve always been so selfless, I can’t be mad at you, not even this time”, you looked at the sky, one more attempt to keep the tears at bay, “I hope you’re happy up there. I love you so much. Forever and always, I won’t stop loving you”.

Everyone was full-on crying by the time you finished your speech, and now that you were done, you finally let go too. You sobbed in JJ’s arms - just like you did at the hospital - wishing that you would wake up in the right arms instead.

—

“Can’t remember

What I used to fight for”

They say time heals everything, but it didn’t seem to work for you - each night, you were dreaming of her, and each morning was bringing you back to the cruel reality of your lost lover.

It was mentally draining you, and you were starting to wish to never wake up - to not have this huge pause when you were somehow supposed to live your life - and to be able to constantly see her.

Everybody was back to work already, of course, serial killers don’t take breaks because of your heartbreak, but you couldn’t. They kept visiting and checking up on you, but eventually their lives went on. Yours didn’t. Your life has stopped from the moment JJ stepped into that waiting room with that look on her face which told you everything.

You just couldn’t.

How were you supposed to function like a proper human being when you had so much pain within yourself that you couldn’t even get out of bed?

How were you supposed to go back to work without her by your side, and still be able to focus on the cases instead of her heavy absence?

You just couldn’t.

“Where am I to store all this heartache?”, you wondered, looking aimlessly around the room.

You just wanted to go home.

You didn’t know what time it was - you didn’t bother to charge your phone. Which you probably shouldn’t have done, considering the frantic knocks on your door that you got later that day.

Ignoring the pain in your body from not moving almost the whole day, you’ve made your way to the door, not bothering to check who it was.

It wasn’t going to be the right person either way.

”JJ? What are you doing here?”, you asked, rubbing your eyes from the intensity change of the light coming from the hallway.

”We just finished a case and I thought of bringing you something to eat”, she cautiously responded, looking with a worried expression at you - you were clearly not taking care of yourself.

She didn’t want to ask when was the last time you ate. She felt awful, failing at the one promise she told Emily before she left - that she would take care of you in her absence.

”Thanks”, you weakly told her, not looking inside the bag - the mere thought of food made you sick, “I appreciate it, but you know you don’t have to take care of me”.

”I know, y/n, but I know how hard it-“

”You can’t possibly know how hard it is for me, JJ”, you muttered, your temper running short, “whatever you might think, it’s at least one hundred times worse. Look, I appreciate the gesture, but please leave. I don’t want you here”.

You watched the pained look on her face as she defeatedly nodded, “I’m sorry”.

”Sorry won’t bring her back”, your tears quickly resurfaced.

You couldn’t control yourself, letting them flow as you heard the apartment’s door opening and then closing, self-hatred coursing through your veins.

You’ve pushed away the one person who was constantly there for you, who actually cared.

—

“I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost”

“Emily, no! Stay awake baby, open those beautiful eyes for me”, you panicked, trying to keep her awake as long as possible.

The sound of the sirens could easily be heard in the background, but why weren’t they getting closer?

Why aren’t they getting closer !?

“Emily, come on”, you sobbed, trying anything in your power to make her look at you for a little while longer, “you can’t die on me. You promised we’d be together forever”.

You could see the defeated look in her eyes, already accepting her fate.

No no no no no! Emily never gives up.

“Please don’t leave me”, you held her close, your own clothes soaking in her blood, “I love you”.

Suddenly, dozens of paramedics started to show up, but instead of saving Emily, they just stared at you, not moving an inch from the ambulances.

“What…what are you doing?! Help her! Please, I’m begging you!”, you weakly screamed, watching them as they stared at you.

“I love you”, you suddenly heard coming from Emily, then you felt her whole body going limp in your arms.

“No no no no, Emily! Wake up baby, please wake up!”, you desperately cried for her, but you got nothing in response.

Only then, a pair of paramedics approached you, taking her away and leaving you in the pool of her blood. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t fight, you just watched as the love of your life slowly disappeared from your vision.

“Emily!”, you screamed, waking up in your sweat instead of the blood, but you could swear that you were still able to smell it.

You brought your hands to your chest, trying to take deep breaths - this was not your usual nightmare with her, it was much worse. It was a sick, twisted way of your brain giving you what you haven’t actually experienced - being next to her in her last moments.

Every single night you had this constant nightmare of her death, your mind trying to imagine how it would’ve been like to be in Derek’s place that day, and you couldn’t make it stop.

You stared at the empty side of the bed, wishing nothing more than to be able to be held in your girlfriend’s arms again, telling you that everything is okay and that it was just a nightmare. And that she was right there and you had nothing to be afraid of.

But she wasn’t there. She will never be there again.

Oh, what you would give for it to have been a simple nightmare.

Suddenly, you started to panic.

“She will never be there again”, your mind couldn’t wrap around that thought.

“You will be all alone, forever”

“Maybe that’s for the better, you never deserved her”

“You’re so pathetic, being so dependent on a person. She’s finally free from dealing with you. It’s for the better”

“Stop”, you gritted your teeth, trying to make your mind go quiet, “please stop”.

But you already knew you were going to lose. The only times you didn’t, Emily was by your side. Dread filled your body, knowing well what you were capable of.

“I bet she would’ve left either way if she saw you right now. So weak. So worthless”.

“Just give up already”, you already knew where this was going, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t know why a part of you still fought that thought. Maybe it was the years of progress in which you managed not to relapse, even though you had a few close calls. Maybe it was for your own sanity, knowing that once you restart that path, there’s no going back up to the surface.

Before, Emily was with you during the bad days, turning off those awful voices simply with her presence, holding you close and letting you dry your tears on her shirt while telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Now all that was left were the shirts.

“Come on, you know you want to do it. Just one cut, it hardly counts”.

Without noticing, you were already on your way to the bathroom, even though there was a part of you screaming to go back, to not give in. But you were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that it was your only escape from your thoughts - even if temporarily.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, barely recognising yourself - you had extreme dark circles under your eyes, your hair hadn’t been brushed in days and it wasn’t hard to guess that your teeth had a more intense shade of yellow.

You were disgusted with yourself.

“You look like a monster. You’re lucky Emily won’t be able to see you like this. She would feel repulsed by your appearance”, your mind continued, and your silhouette started to become blurry as tears formed in your eyes for the millionth time.

“I can’t believe she ever loved you”

“Stop!”, you screamed, frantically searching through the cabinets for the razor blade, knowing it was your only option.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you laid your eyes on it, picking it up with your shaky hand.

“One cut, it hardly counts”, you told yourself as you lifted your sleeves, revealing your old, long healed scars.

Pressing it hard against your skin, you slided it on your forearm, taking in the pain that came through. You carefully looked at the droplets of blood that were appearing, watching as they went down on your arm, feeling like you were in a trance.

Suddenly, the slight pain that you were feeling gave you the urge to do more - this wasn’t enough.

The worst part? The too familiar relief that crept through your body made you realize that you were playing a losing game. It was only a matter of time until you would utterly and irreversibly destroy yourself. And you had no desire to change the ending at this point.

You put the razor blade against your skin again, repeating the same process. Again and again, spiraling out of control, until your vision became blurry from tears, and the pain was becoming ineffective to your mind.

Blinking for a few times, only now you’ve realized how much you fucked up. Panic immediately settled in.

“Fuck. Oh my god. Shit. What…what did I do?”

Turning on the water, you started to clean the blood off your arm, your heart rate rising again as you watched it going down the drain. Just like your six years of sobriety.

Turning it off, you quickly found the first aid kit, your hands trembling as they opened it. Clearing the cuts was definitely the worst part - you certainly didn’t miss the sting. Not that it even mattered right now.

You hissed at the burning sensation that only increased as you continued to sanitize them, then you rapidly put a bandage on, covering your whole upper forearm.

You sighed - the effect was already gone, but that was when exhaustion hit. Never looking once behind at the mess you left, you made your way to the bedroom, climbing under the blanket.

Only then you acknowledged the occasional twinges of pain that came from your arm. The lump in your throat intensified with the immense shame and guilt that you soon felt, your soul shattering into pieces that could be put together only by one person.

“What have I done?”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I failed you”, you spoke to the still empty side of the bed, wishing that you would be strong enough to pull through this.

—

Your days started to achieve a comfortable pattern as they went on - you could actually function during the day now that you had a solid distraction - and when the sun would settle down, you would find your stability in self-destruction, in the prolonged sadness that you continued to seek, not knowing any different.

You gradually started to do the simple tasks that any normal person wouldn’t think twice about - getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, your hair - and you started doing the groceries on your own, still being the only times you went outside. But it was progress nonetheless, even though you knew deep down that it was a well-built façade for the people around you, the truth being covered underneath your sleeves.

It was going so well - or so you thought.

But everything changed one day when JJ asked you to look after Henry - you didn’t hesitate to say yes, figuring it would be a good distraction from your own mind - and that kid was so full of love, it almost made you think that maybe…maybe life wasn’t that bad.

So, you quickly asked Penelope to pass by and feed Sergio later that day, managing a small smile at her excitement - she loves that cat as much as you do. You dressed with the first decent outfit that came into your mind and drove in a hurry.

You did everything right - made his favorite meal, played together with his little car toys, brought him to the park, letting him guide you through his world with the biggest smile across his face.

And for the first time in almost three months, you actually, genuinely smiled.

When it was his bedtime, you read his favorite story, tucking him in and telling him how much auntie y/n and his parents love him.

He smiled again, but then a frown sprawled across his little face.

”What’s the matter, buddy?”, you asked, your voice filled with concern.

”Don’t wan’ you huwt”, he pouted, looking down at your covered arms.

Oh. Oh no. Did he see your bandages?

“I’m not hurt…I’m okay”, you sigh, trying to find a good enough explanation, “You know how your mommy fights bad guys?”.

He nods, silently watching you with his big eyes.

”Well, I’m fighting my bad guys too”, you smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “But it’s nothing for you to be worried about, okay?”.

”Are they bad bad?”, he worriedly asked.

”Nothing I can’t handle, buddy”, you kiss his forehead, brushing his hair with your fingers, “Now go to sleep, my little superhero”.

He grinned, giving you one last hug after you closed the lights and exited his bedroom.

You exhaled sharply as you laid on the couch, dozens of thoughts already running through your head. It was only a matter of time until JJ would come to you asking questions and you couldn’t find one lie that would sound good enough.

You called her at some point, telling her that everything was okay and that Henry was already sleeping, and she thanked you probably for the millionth time that day.

There was that feeling in your chest back - the guilt. But you kept your voice steady throughout the whole conversation, only letting the tears out once you threw your phone somewhere on the couch.

You couldn’t even point out the exact reason why you were crying, but over the past few months you lost your control over it, not being able to shut down and stop the tears anymore. You were surprised that you even had tears left to cry.

You were so tired, but sleeping was not a possibility today, not when you weren’t alone in your apartment so that you could easily fall apart. You had to keep yourself together until the next day.

You had to stay awake so you wouldn’t have to see Emily in your dreams, only to lose her all over again the moment you would wake up.

So you went to the kitchen and poured some coffee in a mug, making yourself comfortable on the couch again as you tried searching for a decent channel on the TV.

“It’s going to be a long night”, you muttered to yourself.

You lost the battle with your eyelids around 7am, but it didn’t take more than two hours until Henry woke you up, demanding pancakes for breakfast.

It also wasn’t long until both JJ and Will arrived home, thanking you again for watching over their son, and you tiredly smiled at them.

You knew the dark circles under your eyes were obvious, so you sighed in relief when no-one commented on them. Though JJ did offer to drive you back to your apartment, you quickly said that she should enjoy her time home with her family and that you’ll be okay.

And you left before she could fight you on this.

—

“Writing letters

Addressed to the fire”

Home - you still couldn’t call it that way, but there wasn’t a better word out there for it.

As soon as you arrived, you could feel the exhaustion hit, mixed with the relief of not having to hide yourself from anyone here. You were alone again, but you’ve started to accept that this is how the rest of your life’s going to be.

Alone.

Going back into the room you’ve spent most of your time in, you crawled into bed and scrunched your face at the light that was coming through the window. You tried pulling the blanket over your head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the light. So, in one final attempt, you buried your head under the darkness of the pillow, pretending that it was night.

Smiling to yourself, you could feel yourself falling asleep - and you were ready to see Emily again.

—

Same nightmare, same way of waking up in your sweat, your cheeks wet from tears that you didn’t acknowledge at first. You could recall it perfectly at this point, your whole body aching from suffering - you wanted nothing more than to be able to make it stop, but at the same time, you knew if you had the choice - you wouldn’t get rid of them.

Because if you stop seeing the love of your life, even in your nightmares, then it would make it too real. It would mean that you really were alone.

And you couldn’t walk through your life without Emily by your side - it was just wrong. Foolishly, a part of you was still waiting for her to come back, a part of you was still searching for her in the first seconds of your body waking up, unable to grasp the fact that she would never be there.

Would this torment be all you were going to feel for the rest of your life?

No, it was becoming too much again.

Shaking your head, you reached for your phone, being met with a few missed calls and messages…all from JJ.

“y/n, i’m coming over to check if you’re okay”, was the last message she sent you, which was over twenty minutes ago.

Great, just great.

You had no energy to get up, to try to look less messy after sleeping for who knows how long, or to pretend that you’re okay.

It was so exhausting putting on a brave face every time you talked to someone, pretending that your smile is genuine or that your arms weren’t intensively itching underneath those long sleeves.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the doorbell, suddenly starting to work on autopilot as you got up from the bed and went to the door, letting JJ in.

—

“I’m worried about you, y/n”, she sighed, looking across the room to where you were standing, “and I really think you should talk to someone about everything”.

It felt like a punch in the gut - Emily used to be that person. The one who you would tell all your fears, your struggles, your pain and she would listen to you, hold you, her soft touch dissipating every negative feeling that came in your way.

No, you couldn’t replace her.

“I don’t want to!”, you said defensively, “and I don’t need to. I’m okay”.

“Liar”, you could hear a voice inside your head.

She continued looking at you, her words full of concern.

“Henry told me about the bad guys…and he pointed out that your arms looked weird?”, she sighed, almost being scared of not phrasing her words correctly, “y/n, I’m here for you, okay? I don’t want to lose you too”, she felt like such a hypocrite to say that.

But it seemed to get to you.

Your stomach dropped.

“I just…”, you felt your eyes filling with tears, “I don’t want a therapist, JJ. I want my Emily back. Nobody else can fix what’s inside of me right now”

Her heart broke at your words, wishing that she could tell you the truth, that she could make your pain stop.

Suddenly, an idea came through her mind.

“What if…what if you could talk to her. Not in the way you would actually want, but…”, she saw the despair in your eyes as she kept going, “you could write her letters”.

“Letters?”, you looked at her confused.

“Yes. You know…putting your thoughts and feelings on a piece of paper might help you get through this”, she spoke as she got closer to you with a sad smile across her face, “and you could read them to her when you’re done. I used to talk to my sister this way”.

Now it was your turn to return the sad smile. You knew what she was talking about, and you also knew that it’s still hard for her to recall those memories. So, instead of fighting any kind of help, like you would usually do, you let her words sink in.

Letters…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe…maybe it will help. At least you hoped so.

You didn’t want to think about the other option.

“And if you don’t want to watch the pile of letters growing, you can give them to me”, she noticed your puzzled look, “I promise I won’t read anything”, she immediately clarified, “I just think that…since letters are made to be sent, you can give them to me. I’ll store them for you”.

You had no energy to question her words or to try thinking of any other options, and you knew that she would leave faster if you just agreed to everything she was saying.

“Okay”, you let out, “I’ll do it”.

“You will?”, she happily said, hugging you, “Thank you for trying this. I hope it will help you as much as it helped me”.

“I hope so too”, you smiled at her, even though you still felt hopeless on the inside.

JJ left not too long after that, and you sighed in relief.

“Letters…”, you let your mind wander around the idea.

You knew that this was her giving you a chance before she would be insisting on therapy again, but that was a worry for later. Maybe this could help.

You hoped it would, since you were soon starting to work again, all your days off being already used.

You shook your head, the thought of Emily not being in the chair next to yours breaking your heart again.

You couldn’t do this.

Without realizing, your mind led you to the bathroom again, maintaining you on the pattern you created.

—

On your last day before going back to work, your mind was plagued with thoughts from the moment you woke up, your chest feeling heavier than before - if it was even possible.

You reflected on the possible options to quiet your mind, miserably trying to prevent your body from any more scars. But it was like you couldn’t even stand a chance against yourself as you let your tears flow on your way to the bathroom.

You steadied yourself against the sink, gripping it tightly with your hands. You fixated your eyes on the person in the mirror, every ounce of hatred roaming through your body.

“Do it”.

“No”.

“Do it”.

“No”, you say louder than the previous time.

“Just one-“

“NO!”, you screamed, punching the mirror, “No more…no more scars. You can’t hurt me anymore, I’m not afraid of you”.

Your bruised hand started trembling as you watched droplets of blood going down your fingers, and panic filled your body.

No no no no no what did I do?

You desperately ran the water and started cleaning the mess you made, bandaging it almost instinctively, which subconsciously made you hate yourself all over again.

You let yourself sink on the floor as you kept on crying, the crippling loneliness feeling like a dagger to your heart. This was not who you wished to become.

“I’m not…I’m not afraid to…to keep on living”, you tried convincing yourself, “I’m not afraid to walk this world alone”.

But it only intensified your pain, feeling like you were losing control over yourself again.

That’s when it came to you - the letters, notes, writing down everything. You didn’t even think twice about it, forcing your body to get up, frantically searching for your notebook.

Relief washed over your body as you laid your eyes on it, and soon all the darkness that crept through your mind was transferred to the words that you were writing without even thinking. Easily losing track of time, you grabbed a few papers and started creating the letter from the spilled words in your notebook, telling Emily exactly how you feel.

By the end of it, a little part of you was actually glad that she couldn’t read this - you could still imagine the pained look on her face, her beautiful eyes full of sadness. It only made the ache in your heart grow.

Glancing your eyes outside, you noticed the gorgeous mixed shades of orange and pink on the sky, and your mind immediately went to her. You couldn’t explain it, but it was like she was here, with you, and you cried from the little comfort that you felt in that moment.

Grabbing the written pages, you opened the bedroom window, for the first time sitting on her side of the bed. And you read to her everything that you’ve written with tears in your eyes, a few of them falling on the paper itself.

“I love you”, you whispered at the end, hugging the letter as if it was your connection to her. As if the gesture was somehow paving her the way back home to you.

You felt foolish, waiting for a love that would never come back.

But at least this way…you could feel a bit closer to her.

You soon made your way to JJ’s house, dropping off the letter and then going back to the apartment.

—

The last thing Emily expected was one of her neighbors handing her an envelope, fearing for the worst as she thought that her cover had been blown up.

Taking it in her hand, she thanked the lady, trying not to show the anxiety and fear through her mimics as she went back into her apartment.

Sitting at her desk, she held her breath as she carefully opened it, her fingers trembling while she unfolded the paper.

Right then her heart stopped - this was…this was your writing. She knows it too well. It was from you. It really was.

“Oh my god”, she murmured, a thousand questions roaming through her mind.

Her eyes darted on the letter, the desperation of hearing from you beating any other rational thought. She could feel each beating of her heart as she started reading.

“Dear Emily,

Is there even a proper way to start this? I don’t know. But hi, it’s me - you would’ve probably recognised my writing by now if you could read this”.

She couldn’t help the wave of tears that were welling in her eyes already, a bittersweet smile curling at her lips from how well you knew her - and how well she knew you.

“JJ suggested writing my feelings down on a piece of paper, so prepare yourself, because it’s a lot. I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. I just know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we weren’t supposed to be torn apart like this. And then I feel like the world is laughing at me, because this is how it is, and I get no saying in this matter, just having to accept the reality that I’m living in, but I can’t”.

Guilt rushed through her body in an instant with every beating of her heart, her lip quivering from the pain that echoed from this letter — from your pain. The pain that she caused you.

“It’s weird, because on some days I am completely detached from the reality that you’re actually gone, doubting if I can bring myself to remain present in a present that has no element of you in it. I’d rather remain present in a past that has you, your smile, your voice, hoping that if I focus hard enough, it will replace this actual nightmare of a present. And there are the days when it hits me that you’re not coming back home, and I have to hold onto the pain because it’s all I have left of you. I knew that it was cruel to be so foolishly optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn’t resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on a prayer. A prayer that I could hear the twist of your keys again, and recognise it’s you by the way you open the door, and that I would get to jump in your arms and never let you go again”.

Emily was fully crying by this point, her heart crumbling with every word that she was reading. She wished nothing more than to be able to walk through that door and right into your arms, to tell you how incredibly sorry she is, hoping you would forgive her. Hoping that you would forgive all the suffering she put you through.

”But of course, you never come. How could you? You’re not even alive. It’s not fair, you don’t know how awful it is without you. There is this hole in the world where you used to be, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling at night. It’s when I realize, oh God, I am so alone. It’s happening again. I find myself wondering if it will ever stop, if this feeling will ever go away, if the loneliness will ever cease. My mind answers for me instantly, with the harshest no I’ve ever heard. And then I cry, because I don’t want to feel like this my whole life. I’m so afraid, not having a place to call home anymore. It lost its meaning the day you left, and I don’t think I’ll ever find it again”.

Tears turned into sobs, feeling like a bullet striking right through her soul as she read this paragraph, her hands trembling on the paper, struggling to not fall apart.

What has she done?

She completely destroyed the love of her life, and she couldn’t do anything but watch the aftermath of her actions.

“I wish we had more time together. I wish I knew what to do with all the love I have for you, where to put it in your absence. I miss you. I miss you so much. And I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I let the tears fall on my face as I find myself wishing to be able to be beside you just one more time, knowing it would tear me apart even more. But I would still do it, if it meant being able to see you again. I would give anything for that. I don’t know who I am anymore, without you here. It’s like you took a part of my soul with you that day and left me wandering around, trying to find the piece that will always be missing. Please come back Emily, please. I don’t want to walk this life alone”.

She clutched the letter to her chest, the desperation in your words almost taking her breath away - the torment and agony of feeling so helpless causing every part of her being to ache.

”I’m so sorry”, she whispered through her sobs, endlessly repeating it as if you could hear her.

She wished she could do more, oh how much she wished it. To book the first plane ticket back to the States and rush to you like her life depended on it, and it killed her that she couldn’t do that. To hold you and wipe your tears away, to scatter the pain inside your heart with her presence, to tell you that everything is okay and that you didn’t lose one another.

It wasn’t fair.

Almost fearful, she placed the letter back on her desk, continuing to read it.

“Is it selfish to want you to come back, despite the suffering that you went through? Maybe it is, I don’t know. I just want you here. But I know you’re in a better place, at least I’d like to think that. I was never much of a religious person, but here I find myself hoping that Heaven exists and that it’s treating your soul with nothing but kindness. I hope it’s full of peace and happiness, that you are free from the pain that you’ve endured for so long, that you can be carefree and laugh and smile, that you’re feeling everything I haven’t since I lost you. And if somehow you can hear me, I need you to know that I forgive you for breaking our promise - the promise that we’ll be together forever. I know you wanted to protect us, I know. It still hurts, I don’t think it will ever stop, but I know. And I’ll keep holding on my part, because I’ll never stop loving you. Forever and always, isn’t that what we told each other? You were my person, my everything, and I’ll never let you go, at least not from my heart. It’s always been yours. I'm going to miss you until my very last breath. But that’s why I hope that at least you are okay up there, because I never will be. I just hope that, in my freefall, the bottom won’t destroy me completely”.

“Oh, my love”, she brushed her fingers on the spots where your tears were long dried, trying not to ruin it with her own.

It has become a constant battle with her own tears, hopelessly trying to wipe them before they made their way on the tragedy-filled letter, whilst every fiber of her being wanted to scream from the top of her lungs until you could hear her, that she’s still here, living in a nightmare of her own.

The words written on this letter, she feels each and every one of them, hitting her harder as they went on, slowly destroying another little part of her. She couldn’t even feel an ounce of relief at the thought of you forgiving her, when she has hurt you irremediably so.

And even in this suffering, you wished her every wonderful thing that you could - and of course you would, she didn’t expect it to be any other way. She didn’t even know if she preferred you to be angry at her, but one thing was clear - she would have deserved it.

But you would never do that.

”Anyway, I’m going back to work tomorrow, first time without you being there, and God, I have no idea how I’m going to pull through. Without you next to me at the table, or in the car, or on the plane, or anywhere at all. I wish I could hear you say one more time that it’s going be okay and that I’m strong enough to do it, because I really don’t feel like I am. My only hope is that it will get easier over time, even if it feels like wishful thinking at the moment. Because otherwise, I don’t see things ending well for me. And I know you’d be incredibly worried if you could hear me, so part of me hopes that you’re in your little bubble of paradise and cannot hear my rambling. But if you somehow heard me, I hope you can accept my love and pain without the guilt that comes with them. And I want to finish this by saying that I love you and always will, and I’ll carry you in my heart everywhere you cannot be, through all of my days, for the rest of my life”.

Goddamnit...

[deeppenguinstudent]

Raven elodie would be absolutely brutally sad in my imagination I fear.

Like imagine, when Jean gets marked, elodie is brought along tetsuji, and she's made to play under Jean like how jean did to Thea (so the media runs wild since riko and Kevin were considered half brothers and Jean and elodie full siblings are playing on court together in the future.)

She's trained under a senior dealer, but Edgar Allen doesn't let her stay in evermore because of her age. Anyways, once she finally reaches the line up or she essentially just joins Edgar, she resides in evermore. [The age thing does not make sense, but omg, please bear with me]. She's trained to be a dealer.

Feel like she would hate every Raven, Kevin included. Her body hurts, and her legs scream, but she doesn't care. As long as her brother is next to her. But one day, riko makes the backliners hold her down and watch what he does to Jean when she gets extra mouthy. She looks to Kevin at the side and watches him stand there with his eyes to the ground.

Why weren't they helping him? Her brother is gasping for air as the cloth hits his face, her brother is biting his lip as riko carves into his skin over and over. She watches Kevin try to pick up the pieces but she shoves him away and asks him to get the fuck away.

Her brother, the brother that used to hold her close when the children didn't want to play with her and tell her that the only friend she ever needed was him since the rest were all losers for not befriending her. Her brother, who always stood in front of her, once their father's whip struck and shielded her, was once again protecting her from monsters; abnormal people that only wanted to hurt.

She slowly cleans him up, and she retches as he teaches her how to stitch up his open wounds. They sleep together in the same bed that day, Jean crying because he doesn't want this life for her and elodie sobbing because she can't bear to watch people torment her brother any longer.

So she gets better. Zane and Grayson have been eyeing her since she came to evermore, mainly because she is probably going to be the next perfect court member, and they are angry. She allows the nasty scowls and the jibes from Grayson directed to Jean but steps in between when it gets gangrene. It's stupid she knows because both of them are 19 and look much more powerful than her undeveloped 15 year old self but she stares him down.

When kevin leaves, everything goes for worse. Rikos moods are temperamental, and none of the Ravens dare question the king. Elodie works until her body drops from exhaustion each and every night; she doesn't need to try this hard, she knows, but every mistake she makes, Jean will be punished for it and she couldn't afford that.

Riko even compliments her for once in practice as she manages to guard the defence better than grayson and he jokes and says she might be able to play beside her brother in perfect court and be a backliner instead of a dealer. This leaves grayson more furious than ever. Zane also stares at them with a sense of vexation.

She doesn't get it, really. She doesn't get it until Colleen whispers something soft into her ears, telling her to hurry up. She doesn't get it until she's pounding on the door of their shared room begging to be let in when she hears her brothers pained cries and pleas. She finally gets it when she sees Grayson with a blissed out expression and his zipper down as he whispers to her to get her whore brother cleaned up.

She slams the door behind her and places a chair in front of it. There, on the ground, she sees Jean. His eyes are dead, and no light is in them as he stares blankly at the wall. His thighs are dirtied with blood and cum and elodie feels like puking. His neck has numerous bitemarks, and his hips were bruised, and she systematically carries him to the bathroom and runs the water.

The water changes from clear to red as he soaks himself, and he looks her into the eyes, his cheeks stained with tears and mouth bitten red.

"You should have left with Kevin."

Elodie recalls the amount of punishment they both endured and her heart sobs with the implication that he thought she would leave him here to die under the hands of these monsters. She tries to smile but everything has been knocked of her, she can't see a future - she doesn't even know whether she'll be able to keep that last ember of desire to keep going burning until tomorrow.

But she has Jean and Jean has her. Nobody would understand him as well as she and vice versa. She would rebuild her brother piece by piece and give him pieces of her that have been carved out by Riko, snatched by the Ravens and willingly given to Kevin by Jean.

I like to imagine that Elodie is more outspoken, a dangerous piece on the board that's cunningly smart. She works around situations, and she knows how to trip up her teammates to be the best. She knows what it takes, and her determination is her strong point. While Jean was a survivor, elodie would be an analyser. She knows how to get under people's skin, she puts on a mask to be liked by the Ravens, and there's undoubtedly sure she would do anything to protect her brother.

So when she sees Andrew holding Jean's hand in a vice grip, she pushes him hard, under the hoax of oh, I'm sorry I had to get my shoe. When she sees Kevin again, she stares him down cold and doesn't let Jean reply to him opting to speak to him instead.

I have so many ideas for Raven elodie but I think it mainly stemmed from the audio, she's my sister and she's no bitch but I am tbh

[yourheartandmind]

Crossed Lines

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warning: Dark themes

Wednesday Addams has committed many unspeakable crimes. She's performed many unspeakable acts. Some, simply for the sake of doing so.

But, even she had a limit. A line she swore to never cross. A concrete boundary to what she was and wasn't willing to do.

Because for all her bravado and all her threats, Wednesday Addams refused to become a monster. To prove the people around her right. To give in to her family's darkness.

Call it stubbornness. Call it hopeless.

She knew she wasn't good by any definition - she would never be like Enid, could never be like her, not even close- but Wednesday always wanted to believe that she wasn't entirely bad either. That somewhere, hidden in the very depths of her being, she too had a soul worth saving. A soul capable of redemption.

Yet, as she took in your crumpled form on her bed, dark, crimson blood seeping through the layers of your tattered Evermore uniform - a color she had seen thousands of times before, but never seeming so nauseating as it did that moment - even she was surprised by the dark thoughts that crossed her mind.

The lines she was suddenly willing to cross.

You were mumbling something under your breath, a slur of pleads and cries that blended with dull ringing in Wednesday's ears.

The paleness of your skin was jarring. The lifelessness in your eyes haunting. And staining the sheets beneath you, caking the surface of everything you had touched, your blood was inescapable - the sheer amount of it painting the room.

Someone had touched you.

The thought lit something inside Wednesday.

Everything began overtaking her senses: the scent of sweat and rust from dried blood; the messy incoherent cries of pain that filled the room; the sight of you. Like that.

"Wednesday?"

Someone was calling out to her. They seemed close. Yet not quite there.

Someone had touched you.

"Wednesday?"

A second attempt to reach her was registered, now laced with a hint of concern.

The person seemed further now, though.

Someone had touched...you

Wednesday's mind began to swallow her, taking her to the darkest corners of her subconscious. To a place where all her inhibitions were washed away - stripped away - until all that was left was a desire to hurt.

Someone had touched you. Someone had hurt you.

"What happened?"

Her voice was cold. Distant. More than even she thought possible.

It didn't sound like her anymore.

The blur of a figure turned to her, Wednesday guessed that it was Enid, "Let's not doing anything careless now, okay?" They, Enid, whoever, tried to caution.

"What happened?"

The question wasn't going to be asked twice. And for their sake, Wednesday hoped Enid caught on to that.

"I-"

"Enid."

If bloodlust could be heard, not just seen, it would've been heard then - dripping with malice from every syllable of Wednesday's voice.

Enid looked over to her roommate, always having believed the Addams cruel but reasonable; now seeing, that any semblance of rationality had long disappeared.

She sighed and answered. Cautiously. Uneasily.

Wednesday left without so much as a thanks.

Watching the girl go, Enid felt her heart drop with fear. Not for herself, but rather the people who had hurt you.

///

Wednesday knew she had lost it - that what she was going to do was reckless and dangerous beyond belief.

Yet she couldn't find it in her to care.

Even as she stood over the faces of the men on the ground, bounded and tied expertly by her ropes, fear evident in their eyes. Even as they began to shake with tears and beg and plead her for their release, promising to not tell anyone. Even as she began to realized that there was no coming back from what she was about to do.

She had never wanted to become a monster like this.

But when people - the same hypocrites who've bullied and ostracized Evermore students as liars and killers - hurt the one she loved and got to walk back into their lives like nothing happened, Wednesday Addams no longer cared about her childish wants.

All she knew was was the anger and hurt she felt and the consuming need to make those responsible pay.

Afterall, someone had hurt you.

She'll make sure they hurt more.

And she'll be sure to enjoy every second of it, too.

[adalricus]

(AMAB) yandere!crybaby x (GN) Darling

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, drugging,bullying

Aziel was someone who found no light in his life,people found it pathetic that a boy cried evermore cried so often and easily. Why would society not accept him yet they do that for his sister. He grew a hatred for people and his sister. He was just about to give up on it all when finally someone shone a light so brightly on him that it decimated all his darkness. That person being you, you were a new student and quite popular right of the bat. Out of kindness, you decide to check on him while he was tearing up. Why would you help a pathetic person like himself. He was suspicious of you at first, so he stalked you. And he just fell in love even more, and he couldn't stop following you. You were kind, beautiful and popular! You were the whole package, but he couldn't bear to talk to you. The jealousy he felt for people who were able to talk to was seething. One day, he just lost it on one of your male friends who was just a little too close to you. The most you knew was that he just disappeared one day. He almost did the same to his sister when he realized he could get close to you through her. He hated the way you comforted her. It should be him, not her! So he decided to plan how he would get and keep you. After months of exercising and planning. On a particular day, his sister had seriously annoyed him. So, with his medical expertise, courtesy of his mother. He drugged his sister before taking her phone to ask you over. Of course, when you arrived at their place, you were shocked to see Aziel instead of Azalea welcome you into the house. He decided to chat about all your favorite topics with you. He made you feel safe, and plus, you knew his sister really well. So why wouldn't you accept the food he so generously offered to you. That's exactly what Aziel wanted you to think. You felt dizzy and drowsy very swiftly lying, but before you could act on those symptoms, you passed out. When you woke up, you were in a nicely decorated room tied up on a chair. You, of course, felt panicked and scared. "Morning sweetie, did you sleep alright?" Aziel said to you in such a caring and sweet tone. You, of course, lost your absolute shit on him but stopped out of shock when you realized he was tearing up. "You're rude! Don't you understand I did this for you, everything I do is for you." He exclaimed you couldn't help but feel bad, but the man did kidnap you! Yet he made you feel obligated to comfort him, so you did, very reluctantly, though. Your relationship for the next few weeks was filled with guilt tripping, crying, mood swings, clingy and strangely enough pampering as though you were a royal. He is so happy that you're his only, the only thing that could go wrong was if his sister, Azalea, found out where you are. That wouldn't happen now would it?

[idksmtms]

happiness (David Von Erich x reader) - evermore series

A/N: The way this movie wrecked me should be studied…

Also, I know the actual song is about a break up, but the line “there will be happiness after you” just made me think of death.

Summary: Maybe none of these coincidences were signs, but you wanted to believe they were. You wanted to believe that David was rooting for your happiness. 

Word count: 2,669

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, light to heavy angst, major character death is mentioned (but happens before events of oneshot), movie spoilers!!!, grief, moving on, guilt for moving on (ig could also be classified as survivor’s guilt), it’s kinda fluffy too, just nostalgic tbh, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is based solely on the portrayals of the brothers in the movie, not the real people. I do not own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not claim to own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

In a faraway barn of an already isolated horse ranch, sat an easel. On the easel was a canvas, a work in progress painting of shadows and darkness, anger and grief, made with splotches of red, black, grey. In front of the easel on a stool, sat you, wearing a messy apron over an old pair of jeans and an old flannel that still smelt a little bit like… him. The doors of the barn were thrown wide open (possibly because they never quite closed anyway) and filled the large room with bright sunshine. When the sun would eventually continue its course across the sky, the light would turn green from all the trees lined up on the other side of the barn and make everything suddenly feel like it wasn’t quite real. You loved those moments. If you were in one of the melancholic moods that still set in occasionally, then the green and yellow light made you feel like you had floated above the world, and if you just reached out, you could somehow find David. When you were in the good moods that now came with increasing frequency, you felt like it was a little sign from David everyday. A little reminder of the happiness you could still find, that he wanted you to find. 

It had taken you a long time to get to this place, this precarious tightrope of happiness that spanned over the chasm of grief. You could still remember the days after you had gotten the news, his mother’s soft voice over the phone telling you that his intestine had ruptured at some point in the night and he had died in his hotel room. Alone. Sometimes that hit you harder than the fact that he had actually died. That he had died thousands of miles away from family, from love, all on his own. You tried not to think about it too much now, it was an unnecessary train of thought that only made you feel worse. You could do nothing to change it anyway. 

But when his mother had told you, you had sat down on the edge of your bed and not moved until your own mother found you hours later. It was like life had suddenly been put on hold now that he was gone, that life wasn’t even possible now. Then, when the night came and the news slowly began to sink in again, you cried. First soft, silent tears that hurt your insides more than anything. Your throat clogged, your pursed lips pressed so tightly to each other they were bruising, and your hands shaking like you had developed arthritis overnight. Your hands never did quite stop shaking since that night. 

It had taken all your remaining strength to attend the funeral, to stand next to his brothers who had these broken expressions on their faces that made you hate the world all the more. His father with his stoic face that made you wonder if he had ever even loved David. And his mother, swaying slightly as she stood, tears streaming down her face that somehow made your own feel even more painful. 

The funeral was the last time you had left the house for a good month. You walked around your own family’s ranch house like a ghost, always making it just to the front door before turning back. You spent the most time in your room, because that was where all your memories with David were gathered, from all the gifts and pictures to the actual memories of him laying sprawled across your tiny single bed, feet dangling over the edge, cowboy hat over his eyes as he snored like a walrus. He used to say that it was the only time he ever really got good sleep, and you never had the heart to disturb him. You would simply adjust the little flap of duvet that could be pulled out from under him to cover his chest and stomach, then sit down at your desk chair to get any written work done that you might have. Then, a few hours later, when his absence from his family could no longer be abided, the phone would ring shrill through the house, and he would jolt awake, shaking his head to get the hat off his face and look around as if he had never stepped foot on the earth before. You always giggled, rolling your chair closer to the bed and gently petting his hair to calm him down as he blinked blearily and turned to you, depositing his head onto your shoulder with a little grumble. And the phone would keep ringing, left unanswered, until the second time they called, when you finally extracted yourself from David’s muscly grip, and went to sweet-talk whichever of his brothers had been given the duty of finding him while he gathered his things and bounced out the door. 

Before, whenever you had lain on the bed and thought about this, it had hurt excruciatingly, like someone was running a slow, twisting, drill through your chest. Now you just laughed, appreciated the peaceful moments you both had together. 

Your room still looked like it had then, though. Pale painted walls covered in memories, shelves full of them. One wall had letters pinned all over it, all from David when you had had a little phase of romanticism and had forced him to write and send you letters. He had taken it up with enthusiasm, even if he hated anything that remotely reminded him of sitting at a desk at school. He had written you a letter almost everyday for two months before you told him that you were running out of space to keep them, and maybe a phone call was better because then you got to hear his voice directly in your ear. You still read them sometimes, laughing at the insane amount of words he had to cross out or the little illegible scribbles that were surely supposed to be words but you couldn’t figure out which ones to this day. His handwriting was horrendous, but you loved him even more for it. 

Another wall had every picture you and David had taken together, a mishmash of polaroids and developed film that showed the story of your relationship. There were the shy pictures, when the relationship was still new and you had been a little nervous around him, and he had simply thrown his arms around you, rested his head on top of yours, and told the person to ‘take the goddamn picture’. Then there were the post-match pictures, one perfectly timed polaroid of you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, pressing an obnoxious kiss to his cheek while he shined almost white from the sweat under the flash. You couldn’t remember which match it was from now, you were pretty sure it was written on the back, but that had been standard practice for you after every match he won. 

The last picture of the collage, right at the bottom corner, was the last picture you had taken with David. It was just before he left for the airport, both of you standing in the driveway in front of their house, almost the same as the first picture you had taken together, just a different location. You were standing just in front of him, leaning back against his chest while he wrapped his arms over yours and rested his chin on top of your head. You were smiling so bright your eyes were squinted closed and he wasn’t even looking at the camera but down at you as if he could see your face from that odd angle. It was a cute picture, but you never looked at it fondly. Sometimes you were tempted to throw it out, but you couldn’t throw out anything that had even a hint of David on it. The picture just reminded you of how much you didn’t know, of how many signs you might have missed of the path David headed down. He had never told you about the drugs, the little energy boosters as his father had described them later. And you had thought the coughing and vomiting were an upset stomach. The toilet was always flushed when you came in to check on him, the sink always washed properly. You had even given him some medicine to take when he had assured you that there was nothing wrong. You had only found out from Kevin later that when David had excused himself to the bathroom at the wedding he had been coughing up blood. And that had led to the anger. 

For a long while, your love for David had turned into an unfair anger. You looked back on that period with a heavy heart full of regret. You hated yourself for it now. But rationality hadn’t mattered to you then, so deep you were in the valley of grief. You had hated him for not telling you about the drugs, for not telling you about the blood. Why did you have to find it all out after he died? Why did you have to find it all out from someone else? Didn’t he trust you? Didn’t he love you, or at least know that you loved him so much that nothing could make you stop loving him? Of course, later, when you began thinking clearly again, you had to realise that it was about him, not about you. That it was his own fear and pain and insecurities and whatever else was going on in his head at the time that led to this, not you. But after this initial hatred, came the somehow even more irrational one. You hated him for leaving you. You hated him for leaving you behind on your own. You hated him for dying… At the same time you knew you couldn’t hate him for that, it was the same as hating someone with cancer for dying. They didn’t choose it. They didn’t want it. Sometimes in the dead of night, when you convinced yourself to step past the threshold of the front door, you would wander the fields around the house, telling David in a whispered voice full of rage how much he had hurt you, how you couldn’t forgive him for this. 

Then, one day, you had gotten out of bed slowly, and wandered around the house in your pyjamas, when you found your mother pulling things out of the attic. She smiled at you, clambering down the ladder and wiping her dusty hands on her jeans before gently pinching your cheek between soft fingers. Her smile was soft, loving, a little bit sad because she had loved David too, loved the light and fun he had brought into the house, and she loved you more than anything and it hurt her to see you this way. 

“I’m just clearing out the attic, seeing if we have any things to donate,” she told you with a shrug as if you had asked her; your mouth hadn’t even been close to opening. You weren’t even looking at her, but at the box set next to the ladder, one of the top flaps pushed open and a peak of dark blue shimmery fabric flashing out. You got onto your knees, gently peeling the box fully open and pulling out the dress that had been shoved at the top. 

You spread it out on your lap, gently caressing the fabric as it fanned out and tears filled your eyes so you could no longer see the details, only the colour. It had been the dress from one of your favourite memories with David. 

It was only a few weeks after you guys had started dating, possibly a month after, and he had saved up some money to take you on an elaborate date. Dinner at the cute italian restaurant in the city centre, a stroll down to the ice cream shop, arm in arm, before he drove you out into the farthest corner of the farthest field of the farm in his pickup truck, the bed piled with every spare pillow and blanket from the house (including the ones from his own bed) so you guys could lay down snuggled up and stargaze. 

You had worn this dress, and kissed David until you were breathless, and he had been his best self, joking around and whispering sweet words in your ear and wrapping his big arms around you so your face was pressed into his chest and the world closed in to be just the two of you. 

And you smiled, a bright, watery, smile with sniffles and tears streaming down your cheeks as you caressed the fabric of the dress and your mother got on her knees to wrap herself around you as you hiccuped out sobs and pressed your face into the slightly musty dress. 

You had had probably the worst night of your life the night before you found the dress. Your thoughts had been the darkest they had ever been, verging on irreversible decisions that would have only made everything worse for everybody. And then here the dress was, reminding you of the happiness you had experienced with David, the elation and laughter and smiles and just pure joy he had brought to your life. And suddenly, for that moment, everything was a little better. 

And slowly, with each passing day, you got out of bed again and again, you left the house in the sunshine again and again, and you found all the signs of David, the little coincidences that meant just a little more because of him, because you believed he was trying, wherever he was, to still bring you happiness. 

And with these little encouragements, these little signs, you began to grow again. You refurbished the abandoned barn into an art studio, a place for you to use creativity to let out all the suffocating emotions. Each day you would come into the barn bright and early, just as a beautiful sunrise turned everything from orange to pale yellow, and you would sit down on the stool in front of the easel, and think, feel, paint. 

The signs kept coming, once a little bird, a sparrow, flying into the barn and landing at the top of your easel, watching you paint and occasionally letting out little chirps of encouragement. You spoke to it as if it was David, “I know it looks really dark right now, but I wanted a dark background so the bright colours in the middle would pop more later,” you explained. Another day it was the stray cat that hung around the farm, the one that had avoided you since her existence, suddenly coming to sit down beside your stool, purring and napping next to you the entire time you painted. “I love you,” you whispered to the cat as if it was David sitting down next to you again, “maybe too much.” 

And now here you were, humming some song from the radio as you painted a dark image, something to represent the moments of your hatred so long ago, something to capture it and put it away so you could look back and see how much you had grown since. The new person you had become. The person who understood that you couldn’t make the grief go away by hating the person you missed. The person who knew that she had been happy with David, but she could be happy now too, and both of these things can be true. The person who still didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle the grief and the feelings, but was ok with it anyway. 

So yes, there was a new you, a you after David that he wouldn’t get to meet. But you gave him the best of you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A/N: the emotional depths I went to to write this… 

Taglist: @nosebeers, @tourturedfolkloredepartment,

[ghostfacd]

ANYWAY, DON’T BE A STRANGER. — LUKE HUGHES

— “WILL YOU COME VISIT ME EVERY YEAR?” “OF COURSE I’LL VISIT YOU EVERY YEAR!”

pairing; slytherin!luke x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary; graduation had finally came for you and luke, which meant closing doors and new beginnings. a summer on his lake house should’ve been fun, right?

genre; fluff, angst, hogwarts!au, one mention of sex but no actual smut, lots of crying, mentions of cheating and insecurities, mentions of past luke x kielle, to sum it all up, ynluke deserves better 🤲

author’s note; im gonna apologize in advance bc this one is gonna HURT.

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

The day of Grad had finally came. You knew everybody in your year was excited, having spent 7 years at Hogwarts and were ready to move on.

“You look so pretty!” Kielle says as she enters your room, her voice buzzing with joy. She had her graduation gown and cap on, her makeup looked amazing.

“Have you seen yourself Ms. Kiels?”

“Oh stop it,”

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb, not wanting anything or anyone to interrupt your getting ready process. You had to look perfect, this was the last time you were going to be at Hogwarts.

“Babe, I’ve been calling you.” Mark enters your room along with Luke, who looks absolutely entranced by you.

“Sorry Marky, you know I don’t like distractions when I’m getting ready.”

Over the past year, you and Luke’s relationship had grown greatly, and so has Mark’s and Kielle’s. You four were no longer immature teenagers who couldn’t handle criticism, but now newly blossomed adults.

“Are you guys ready?” Luke comes up from behind you, pulling you into a small back hug.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

When Professor McGonagall all called you up to receive your diploma, you could’ve swore you were gonna breakdown right then and there.

You couldn’t believe you were actually graduating from the one place you had called home to for 7 years.

When you turn around to hug Kielle, you could see tears filling her eyes, something that quickly brought tears to your eyes as well.

Man, you hated this part of graduating. The goodbyes, the crying, and the reminiscing.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Mark says as he takes Kielle away from your arms. She sobs into his shoulders, and Luke is quick to pull you into his arms.

“You okay lovie?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any sign of crying.

“I’m okay Lukey,” you turn around to give him a tight hug.

“Guys! Don’t be so sad!” Luke says when you pull away, arms wrapping themselves around his two best friends, “we four are spending the entire summer together, so quit the crying, alright? You’re gonna make me cry,”

Kielle wipes her tears, giggling at Luke’s words. Him, crying? Never in a million years.

The only time Luke has ever cried was when you two were broken up and he had regretted ever making that decision.

You all waved a final goodbye to your classmates, knowing in the future, you might run into them in the grocery stores with their own families and greet them and laugh back on the days spent at Hogwarts.

Luke even gave a small hug to Teddy Wellings, a boy who had been his partner in Potions prior and whom Luke had scared the complete shit out of.

“Good luck out there Wellings,” Luke says as he gives the boy a small grin.

“Wow, I never thought you would smile at me,” Teddy jokes, “but thank you Luke. My favorite Potions partner.”

“I was your only partner,”

“It’s the thought that counts!”

You silently make your way over to Evermore, one of the first girls you had ever befriended at Hogwarts.

“Hey Morie,” you say, slinging your arms around her shoulders.

She quickly turns around, giving you the brightest smile ever. “YNNN!”

“The one and only,”

She pulls you into a tight hug, chin on your shoulders as she rubs your back in a comforting motion.

“Thank you Morie.”

“For what?”

“For dragging me to the Quidditch match that one day. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never had the courage to approach Luke, and we probably would’ve never dated.”

Evermore laughs, wiping away a few tears that had came down her cheeks. “Well I’m glad that Luke has such a wonderful and caring girlfriend like you, and I’m grateful that we became friends, YN. You’re always welcome into my life anytime, okay?”

Her words make you let out a sob, nodding as you two hug each other even more tightly.

“Alright, are we ready to go?” Kielle appears from behind you, giving you and Evermore a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you give one more hug to Evermore, intertwining your hands with hers one last time before you leave. “I’ll miss you Morie.”

“I’m always just one call away Y/nie,”

- -

You all decided to spend the summer at Luke’s lake house. His brothers weren’t home the entire summer—Jack being with his girlfriend while Quinn was overseas. It was a perfect getaway.

“Hi darling,” Luke takes a seat next to you on the dock, admiring how pretty you looked with your sunkissed skin.

“Lukey,” you pull him into a small hug, one that he doesn’t pull away from until minutes after. He loved being with you in the sun, it was warm and made him feel a million times better just being by your side.

“Cannonball!” The loud voice of Mark runs throughout the entire house. You and Luke quickly part away to make space for the running boy, who, annoyingly so, cannonballs in the water, splashing you and Luke with a bunch of water.

“Mark I’m so gonna kill you!” Luke screams jokingly through soaked eyes.

“Uh huh, come join me in the water Lukey boy, it’s cold!”

You see your boyfriend roll your eyes, but extends his hand towards you so both of you can take a dip in the lake.

“Where’s Kiels?” You ask, wondering where the blonde girl was.

“She’s making BBQ for us right now! Said she didn’t want to get her lash extensions wet, whatever that means.”

Luke and Mark start splashing water on each other, making you laugh silently. Suddenly, Luke gets out of the water, shaking his body of the remaining droplets.

“I’ll be right back,” he says to you and Mark. “Mark, don’t drown my girl.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Hughes!”

It’s about twenty minutes later when you realize that your boyfriend isn’t back yet. Confused, you dry yourself with a towel before making your way to the backyard, where Kielle was grilling the marinated meats.

“I don’t know Kielle,” you hear Luke say in a hushed tone.

“Lu, you’re gonna have to tell her sooner or later,” Kielle sighs, turning around to place a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “The more you drag it on, the harder it’ll be.”

Your eyebrows furrow. What were they talking about? Was Luke cheating on you?

It couldn’t be. Kielle loved Mark too much to do that—and you know Luke would never do that to you. But the words that came out both of their mouths said something different.

It didn’t help that Luke and Kielle had kissed once at a party during your sixth year at Hogwarts.

You walk quietly back to the dock, not wanting Luke and Kielle to have seen you. Your head was filled with questions that made it difficult for you to think properly.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark leans his chin against the dock, looking up at you. “Did you find Luke?”

“Yep,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Mark raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t further question. He pulls himself out of the lake, “cmon YN, let’s get to eating!”

The lunch was pretty awkward for you, since everybody else was talking while you were sitting in silence. Luke, being the observant boyfriend he is, notices your discomfort and intertwines his hands with yours.

You should feel comforted—you should feel better now that you were holding his hand, but were you the only one that had the privilege of doing so? Or was Kielle another person that also had those rights?

It wasn’t until the sun set and the sky was dark that you and Luke were able to get some alone time at the lake. Mark and Kielle had practically kicked you both out of Luke’s own house, but they said it would only be for an hour.

“They’re totally banging,” Luke says, a grin plastered over his face. If you weren’t so insecure, you would’ve laughed along, but instead you chose to stay silent.

Luke’s smile quickly disappears when he sees this, and he pulls you into a side hug, your bodies now touching. “What’s wrong lovie?”

“Are you cheating on me?”

Those five words make Luke choke, eyes widened and face flushed. “What?!”

“Luke Warren Hughes, are you cheating on me?”

“Of course not!” Luke stands up, flabbergasted at such an accusing question from you, “why—why would you even think that YN?”

“Because I heard you and Kielle talking about how you had to tell me something! I don’t know Luke—you guys are pretty close.”

“Yeah that’s because she’s like my best friend since first year,” Luke brings his hand to his hair, ruffling it in distress. “No YN, I’m not cheating on you.”

“Then what was it that you were gonna tell me that was so hard to say?”

Luke sighs, eyes looking directly into yours. “YN, I’m moving to Michigan.”

You could’ve swore your eyes popped out of your sockets in this very moment.

“Michigan? Why?”

“Well, when we were in our fall semester of our last year, I decided to apply to some muggle universities. I looked at UMich, and I really liked it YN. I want to do something with my life outside of Quidditch. They have this hockey program that is just amazing. So I applied and I got my congratulatory letter back in January. I’m sorry.”

It feels like your brain completely halts, forgetting how to speak or think.

“Lovie, please say something.”

“I don’t know what to say Lu,” your legs almsot give out onto the dock if it weren’t for Luke catching you and gently sitting you down. Even at times like this, Luke always knew how to take care of you. “I’m proud of you—I am. I just always thought we would go to uni in England, you know? Michigan is so far.”

“I know lovie,” Luke places a few strands of your hair that had gotten in the way behind your ear, “but Umich is a great place. I think I’d really fit in.”

Of course you couldn’t ask Luke to stay in London with you. That would be selfish. Your boyfriend seemed so passionate about going to Michigan that if you had cried at this very moment, you would feel incredible guilt.

“That’s great Lu, that’s great.”

Luke sighs as he watches you fall apart in his arms. Instead of talking more, he decides to rub your back comfortingly, placing tiny kisses on your tanned shoulders.

“We can do long distance can’t we Lu?”

Luke places his hand under your chin, making you look up at him. The sad look on his face already telling you what you didn’t want to hear.

“Lovie. I thought about this for a while, ever since I got my acceptance letter. I love you YN, don’t you ever doubt that, but I think it would be unfair for the both of us to do long distance when our time zones are so different and we have so much going on in our lives,”

You shake your head quickly, your tears making your vision too blurry to even look at Luke clearly. “No Lu, I’m willing to do whatever—”

“But I’m not,” Luke holds the both of your hands in his, eyes glossy and red. “Lovie, I can’t keep the promise that I will have time for you when I go to Umich. I’ll be so busy with hockey and studies and with our time zones, we wouldn’t even be able to call properly. I just can’t have anyone holding me back, and I most certainly don’t want to hold you back either. There’s just no way that I’ll end up being with you.”

“Is this what this is all about?” You scoff, wiping away your tears furiously. “You think I’m going to hold you back Luke?”

“It just wouldn’t work—”

“No Luke, it’s fine.” You pull away from his arms, now standing up. “You’re right. You’re completely right. This long distance thing will just fuck us up in the future, so we might as well end it now right?”

Luke gulps, not expecting you to be so upset with him. This was the last thing he wanted.

“YN,” he practically begs. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I won’t Luke,” you sigh, “I guess we’re over then. Thank you for everything.”

You walk away that night with your heart broken and tears streaming out of your eyes. This night was the final day before summer was over, and while your original plans were to spend the entire night with Luke by your side, you ended up sleeping in the guest room of his house.

Mark and Kielle were painfully aware of the tension in the room the next day. Both not wanting to add fuel to the fire, Mark decides to take Luke out swimming to calm his nerves while Kielle stayed with you and made fruits for the both of you.

“I take it that he told you he’s going to Umich.” She says, handing you a bowl of cut watermelon.

“Yeah, yesterday night.” You take a bite, too upset to properly enjoy the sweetness of the fruit. “I feel bad, you know? I’m proud of him for getting in—it’s just, I thought we would spend our lives in London together. I never thought he’d go off to the States and we’d break up.”

“I know honey,” Kielle pulls you into her arms, letting your tears soak onto her top. “If it makes you feel better, Umich didn’t only take Luke, but they also took Mark.”

“No way,” you say, “Mark got in too?”

“Yup, our boys are gonna be playing hockey together.”

You wince at her mention of “our boys”, knowing that Luke was no longer yours.

“Oh I’m sorry YN, I mean Luke and Mark are gonna be playing together.”

“It’s fine Kiels,” you reassure her. The bowl of fruits seemed to be more interesting to you than anything else in the world right now. You just wanted to go home and cry it all out.

“I’ll still be in London,” Kielle speaks up after a while. “You’ve still got me,”

You give her a small smile, nodding slowly.

Curse you Michigan, for taking my boyfriend.

- -

The day for Mark’s and Luke’s departure had come quicker than ever, the two boys now standing outside the gate to board for Michigan.

Even though you and Luke were now exes, you couldn’t miss the chance to say your final goodbye to him. If you had stayed home, you knew you would’ve regretted it for the rest of your life.

“Flight 380 now boarding,” the microphone says. “Flight 380.”

It was Luke’s flight. You had memorized the number when Kielle first mentioned it after your breakup with him.

“Hey,” you say as you approach Luke, who’s currently rechecking all his luggage.

“Hey.”

The silence between the two of you is awkward, and filled with so much longing. But neither of you are able to speak up, too afraid to do so.

“I’ll miss you, you know?”

Luke cracks a smile at that, his eyes sad. “I’ll miss you too lovie.”

You swore you almost cried when he had used the pet name that he’s been calling you since the beginning of your relationship.

“Will you come visit me every year?”

“Of course I’ll come visit you every year,”

You couldn’t help but pull the taller boy into a tight hug, not wanting to ever let go. You let your arms wrap themselves tightly around his waist as you bury your head into his chest.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You say, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“How could I ever be?” He sniffles, laughing slightly.

“Alright Luke, we have to head on now,” Mark says, slightly pulling the boy back.

Luke gives you one final smile before leaving, but your eyes never leave him. Not until the gates are fully closed, and the loss of Luke’s presence starts to hit you.

“It’s okay,” Kielle comforts you as the both of you make your way back to her car. “I’ve got you.”

[swiss-mrs]

EVERMORE: Chapter One

Eddie Munson Fic - Evermore Directory - Word Count: 7.4K

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Music blared through Eddie’s ears as he stared out the dingy bus window. “It's for the best, kid.” Wayne's voice echoed through his mind. “You know I care for you, son, but I have no clue how to handle this.” His uncle's sorrowful and concerned expression was drilled into Eddie’s mind.

It's been three months since his return, six since his ‘death’. The world has fallen into autumn, red and brown leaves adorning the trees that pass in a blur. “You'll master your powers and meet others like you. I'll miss you all over again, man.” He could still feel Dustin's tears soaking through his shirt.

Eddie wasn't completely alone on the bus. Aside from the driver, there was a girl, probably around 15, sobbing in the back of the bus, and a boy who looked no or older than 12 or 13 towards the front of the bus, staring out the window in a similar fashion to Eddie. His eyes were dry, but he didn't really look happy to be on this bus ride either. 

Eddie was sat in the middle, a good amount of space between both the others. According to his watch, they were about 11 hours into their 13 hour drive. He glances over his shoulder to find the girl passed out against the window with dried tears on her face. He turns to look in front of him to find the boy still staring out the window blankly. He wondered if either of these children went through the same thing he did. Did they also suddenly gain mysterious, super natural powers they can't seem to control? Did they too do something unforgivable to put them here? He sighs and averts his eyes back to the window. The morning sun was peeking over the skyline. Did they always do night pickups? Was it to hide their shipments?

Eddie's leg began to bounce as they neared closer and closer. ‘Welcome to Vermont’ the sign read as they passed. He knew this was the best choice but that couldn't stop his heart from feeling betrayed and bitter.

Over the last three months, he was plagued with night terrors and migraines. It made him detached and irritable beyond belief. He lost count how many times Wayne was unfortunately on the wrong end of those lash outs. Every time, Eddie felt a pang of regret immediately after, but that didn't keep it from happening again and again.

Eddie was never this bad. He'd always been a good kid despite what everyone thought, despite his transcript. Wayne had no clue what to do when Eddie came back a full 180. The last thing he was expecting that day was to find his dead nephew alive and passed out on their front porch.

Wayne genuinely thought he might’ve been hallucinating. All the exhaustion had fleeted, and he rushed Eddie inside to keep him from prying eyes. It was a miracle no one saw him. When he woke, Eddie was too weak to actually explain himself, not that he even had answers to give. Eventually, Wayne just said to hell with it, and simply catered to his kid. Never in all of Eddie's years had he ever known Wayne to take a day off, but for Eddie, he took several. Three days and nights were spent aiding Eddie back to health. He fed him when he was too weak to lift a spoon and held him when he cried from head splitting nightmares. By the morning of day four, Eddie was at least able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. Wayne made sure to have some food prepared for Eddie in case he got hungry during his night shift and told him to call if anything went wrong. He'd be back in a heartbeat.

As the weeks went by, Eddie became stronger and stronger, more than before. His night terrors didn't stop, but he was at least able to stop screaming and crying himself awake.

It was just two weeks ago that Eddie had done something he couldn't forgive himself for. He hurt Wayne.

He remembers the dream like  a real memory. He was taller, bigger, but, somehow, he also felt lighter. He remembers looking down at his hands and seeing his pale fingers were replaced with slender, dark gray appendages. His blunt fingernails were now black sharp claws. His back felt heavy, like someone had strapped 300 pound weights to his shoulder blades. He remembers looking down at his body and being horrified. He's a monster, a real monster. His breathing started to pick up, and he began to feel lightheaded, a dull thumping in his mind. Though he was panicked at the sight of himself, there was this itching in the back of his brain. Something was there. He had felt an urge he'd never felt before. It was dark and malevolent. It scared him. What's happening to me?! He began thrashing about at the stale air around him, an unfamiliar roar coming from within him, rumbling through his chest. It was so boisterous that it rattled his own eardrums.

He was shaken out of his dream by the sound of his uncle's voice, “Christ!” Eddie's eyes rip open, and he immediately realizes his back on the ceiling. As soon as the realization hits, he falls to his bed, bouncing off and onto the floor with a heavy thud. Still in his panicked state, he yells, scrambling to back away from an invisible horror in front of him. Wayne made the mistake of rushing to his aid.

Feeling a grip on his shoulder in the midst of his screaming panic, Eddie swings an arm around, clawing at the perpetrator. “Ah!” His uncle's voice rings out in pain. Eddie's eyes snap up to the source, finding Wayne falling back, clutching his chest. Blood escapes his skin, staining the torn front of his shirt. Eddie stares up at his shocked uncle in terror.

“Wayne!” He yells, full of concern. He reaches out to him but is immediately taken aback when he sees the black, blood soaked claws on his hand. The tips of his fingers were shade gray as if halfway turned into the monster he was in his dream. He screams in horror at the sight of his own hand.

“Son!” Wayne's voice yells. Despite the blood rising down his front, Wayne closes in on Eddie, gripping his shoulders to grab his attention. Eddie's eyes find Wayne's, and he stops screaming. Tears immediately fill his eyes, and his uncle painfully brings him into his chest, holding him tightly. As Wayne rocked side to side, Eddie could feel the warmth of his uncle’s blood smear on his face and neck. Eddie sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe as his heart pounded irregularly in his chest.

Eddie closes his eyes and leans his head against the bus window with a dull thud. He could feel his eyelashes dampen at the memory of that night, an all too familiar anxious drumming behind his ribs. This is for the best. He repeats in his head. He can't allow something like that to happen again, ever. 

Before he knows it, the bus is passing a ‘Welcome to Jericho’ sign then not too long after driving through a black metal gate that reads ‘Nevermore Academy’ at the top in a gothic font. The bus pulls to a stop into the driveway.

Wordlessly, the driver exits the bus after opening the doors for the few passengers. Eddie takes in the new location through the window. There's an older, dark skinned man with dreadlocks conversing with the bus driver, giving him a friendly greeting with a smile. Are those horns? The man helps load the few bags that were in the bus's storage compartment into a trailer on the back cart of a small vehicle. They give each other their farewells and the bus driver goes to tend to the bus while the man hops in the car to drive away.

“Hey, mister?” Eddie's gaze switches to the little boy who was now standing in the aisle looking at Eddie. He takes one of his wired earbuds out.  “It's time to get off.” The boy says timidly. Eddie nods and stands up in his seat, towering over the kid. The little boy turns to rush off the bus as Eddie puts his backpack on. He glances around the bus to realize it's empty. The girl must've already got off too.

Eddie trudged down the aisle, ducking a little to avoid bumping his head against the roof of the bus. He walks down the stairs, slowly stepping off the final one as he takes in a deep breath. The air here was a bit chilly, crisp, but it filled his lungs graciously. He walks up to stand beside the two younger kids. They stand in a line, in front of a tall platinum blonde woman dressed in a monochrome, light gray outfit. She began to speak a ingenuine speech, no doubt repeated a million times to every new arrival. Eddie tuned her out, just taking in her appearance. Her eyes were a piercing blue shade, and her lips were colored red, highlighting her smile. Her teeth were white and perfectly aligned. She had an unreadable aura around her. She reminded Eddie of a shark. Her sheer existence is just off-putting.

It seemed like her speech was coming to an end as she then gestures to a student beside her. “This will be your mentor, your guide, Mr. Sheridan.” She averts her eyes to look down at the young man standing next to her. He could easily be around 18 years old, most likely a senior or something. His dark brown hair was cut short and styled perfectly. He had blue eyes, defined lips, and a strong jawline. Judging from his looks, his neat appearance, and ironed stiff school uniform, he must be this school's ‘The King’ equivalent. He held a tight, polite smile. “Mr. Sheridan here is a great student who will ensure to take good care of you. You truly are in good hands.” He looks up at the official looking lady with a bashful grin before looking back at the three. He nods to the younger kids then looks over to Eddie with a curious expression. Eddie looks deadpan at the guy and the student turns to address the full group.

“It is an honor to meet you all.” His English accent rings out. Eddie fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I will be your go to informant to guide you and get you accustomed to the ins and outs of our daily life here at Nevermore Academy.” Jeez, this guy sounds like a douche. Eddie thinks, using the second scripted speech to get a good look at the building and grounds from where he stood. “Please, follow me.” Eddie's attention is brought back to the senior as the kids next to him start moving.

“Welcome to Nevermore, dear students!” The lady calls out as they walk passed. Eddie ignores the spiel getting rambled off about how their first days will be laid out, instead looking around at the campus as they walk through. He's enamored by the sights the school offers. It's something straight out of a book. His chest can't help but feel a little giddy.

The campus seems strangely empty for being as large as it is. As if reading his mind, the young boy raises his hand to ask a question, “Excuse me, Mr. Sheridan?”

“Please, my name is Matthew or Matt, for short.”

“Where are all the other students?” The tan boy asks. The student, Matt, gives the shorter kid a kind smile and nods.

“Good question.” He chuckles, “Classes are in session right now. You three arrived kind of mid-day for most of us.” He looks down at his silver, expensive looking watch, causing Eddie to subconsciously do the same with his much less expensive, rubber one. 10:36 AM. Eddie drops his wrist. “Actually, this class period should be releasing some students here in about the next 15 minutes.” He looks back up at the trio with a polite grin. “We're making pretty good time. Our first stop is going to be the administrative office. We'll get your schedules. You'll get fitted for your uniforms, and we'll get your dorm keys.” He turns back around with a motion to continue following him. Eddie trails behind a little, not necessarily in any hurry.

Matt opens up the door to the office, holding it ajar for the trio to enter ahead of him. Oh, what a gentleman. Eddie fawns sarcastically in his head. Matt nods cordially at him as he passes, following behind Eddie as he enters. “Matthew, my boy!” A deep voice booms, naturally demanding Eddie's attention.

“Good morning, Professor Shaw. How are you? I have our new arrivals here.” The blue eyed boy turned to gesture to the new students, all of whom were staring at the horns atop the older man’s head. Man, this guy looks something straight out of DND. His deep skin tone complimented his golden irises. He stood quite a few inches over everyone else and was obviously built sturdy underneath his neutral toned, professional attire. 

“I see! Hello, young man.” The older man directs at the little boy. “M'lady.” He nods to the teen girl nicely. He then turns to Eddie. “Mr. Edward Munson. I presume?” Eddie's brows raise, shocked to hear his name come off the older man's tongue. Great, I'm already known here by name.

“Eddie, sir.” He corrects. The man raises his brows slightly and gives a frown of approval, nodding his head.

“Eddie it is. Pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you all.” His attention is brought back to the other two. “I'm Professor Gardnal Shaw. I primarily work here in the admissions office, but I am also the teacher for Intro to More class, a course you all will undoubtedly be attending.” He smiles proudly. He lifts a hand towards the right side of the huge office. “If you would please, follow me.” He leads the way to a portion sectioned off behind a heavy velvet curtain, Matthew second in line. The teenage girl was next then the little boy after her. Eddie towered over the both of them from behind. His eyes are forward, but he catches the young boy in front of him timidly glancing back at him. Eddie offers a ghost of a smile, not wanting to make the kid any more nervous or uncomfortable around him. The boy's eyes widen when Eddie's eyes catch his gaze. An awkward smile sneaks onto his adorable face as he quickly turns to face forward. Eddie holds in a laugh, curiosity overtaking him. Wonder what this kid got himself into.

As the group passes the threshold of the curtain, they are met with an older, glasses wearing woman. She looks like the nicest middle aged lady you’ll ever encounter the way her face lights up at the sight of new students. “Students, this is our lovely seamstress, Ms. Glenda. She will be assisting you with your uniforms.” Mr. Shaw announces with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“New arrivals!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Good Morning, Ms. Glenda.” Matt adds. She turns to him with a kind grin, her eyes crinkling at their corners.

“Well, good morning to you, Matthew. Very dashing, as always.” She compliments, motherly. The young man blushes, his bitten back smile extenuating his cheekbones. She turns her attention back to the new faces before he can come back with anything. “Now, who do we have here!” She adjusts her little, wire rimmed glasses and squints at the three. “A stunning young lady, an adorable little man, and quite a handsome young fellow, hmm.” The three all have their respective bashful, avoiding glances. “You,” All three lift their heads, but find her attention on Eddie specifically. Eddie's heart picks up slightly, nervous of what she may say next. “You, young man, are a bit older than the normal new arrivals I'm used to seeing.” She lifts her chin to look down the tip of her nose through her falling glasses. Eddie's brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes flit from one face to another, awkwardly glancing at each person in the room. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, Mr. Shaw buts in to take over.

“Sir Eddie here is the first of many to come. Our academy is expanding the age range of our admissions to include those who may have found changes later in life.” The man eloquently clarifies, giving Eddie a comforting grin. Great, ‘first of many’. Even amongst ‘outcasts’, I'm still an outcast.

“Ah, I see. Well, that's wonderful news.” The older lady says, voice full of warmth and welcome. She grins softly. “Well, let's get you all fitted! You've got a lot more to do today!” She smiles widely before pulling each new student in one by one to get them situated with uniforms.

The next two hours were spent in the office, getting uniforms, schedules, and supplies. Following the admin office, Matt guided them around campus, giving them a tour of the common yard, the libraries, showing them different wings for the different studies offered before finally leading them to the massive cafeteria.

The café had two levels. The main floor held a buffet spread of rotating foods, vending machines, and several rows of tables. The second floor was a balcony that had additional seating overlooking the main floor. On the far side of the cafeteria was floor to ceiling windows, presenting a mystical view of the Vermont countryside. “Alright, I think this is a perfect time as any to take a break and get some lunch.” Matt announced, looking down at his watch to see the time as 12:45 PM. “Take an hour to relax and eat. I'll be back to collect you three around 1:45, so we can head to the dorms for you all to get settled in. For now, help yourselves to whatever you’d like.” The uniformed guide clasps his hands together, gives them a nod, and walks away.

The two kids glance at each other then at Eddie. The teenage girl walks off first. The little boy glances back to Eddie after watching the girl walk away. He looks like he wants to say something, which Eddie raises a brow to, but ultimately, he scurries away.

Eddie sighs and follows suit, assembling himself a plate of food that appears too appetizing to be a school lunch. He spots an empty seat next to the massive windows on the main floor. He’s one of the only few not wearing a uniform, so on top of his obvious age difference, his attire makes him stand out like a sore thumb. This causes him to catch a couple curious glances from some passing students, nothing he isn’t already used to.

As he walks to the empty table, he gets a pretty decent idea of different cliques. Even in this world, high schoolers aren't too different. On top of grouping up by sport or ‘status’, one of the obvious differences is that some are separated by species.

Eddie had to use everything in him not to stare at some of the more obvious ones, some with unnaturally colored skin tones, some with horns, others with tusks for canines. It was incredible to see in person something he’d only ever imagined or seen in movies and books. Man, what the guys would say about this. He shakes his head, looking down with a small chuckle. He successfully makes it to the targeted seat without issue. He drops his bag to the floor beneath him and starts eating, “Mmmm.” Holy shit. The food here is just as good as it looks. He hums to himself. After that first bite, suddenly all the hunger his emotions were hiding came to the surface. His stomach growled, begging for more. He scarfs down half his plate before something out the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Outside, several feet down in somewhat of a courtyard he’d had yet to tour, there was a group of students. Are those real? The thing that caught his eyes was the glimmering of metal. The afternoon sun reflecting off steel weapons and shields. Eddie drops his hands to the table to watch the commotion going on outside. There were stairs that led off the slide of the cliff that held the main school building. There were two students walking down them with trays of food. On their uniform jackets were added emblems that took up most of the space on their back panels. It was difficult to get a clear view of the royal purple embroidery from this far, but from what Eddie could tell, it looked like a sword with wings where the cross guard should be.

Eddie’s brows draw closer together as he squints to try and get a better look at the group below. All of the ones sparring had taken their jackets off. The others that were seated and eating were too small for Eddie to see their jackets any clearer, but he does notice one person in particular. 

Atop a boulder on the edge of the courtyard stood an observer dressed in the same purple and black striped uniform jacket and black pants. This observer had a golden sash hanging across their torso, fastened together at the hip, something only seen on royal families. They seemed to be yelling out orders or instructions ever so often. Standing next to the boulder was another onlooker.

This person had short brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a hard gaze. Their white button down shirt was tucked into their black uniform pants. Even from this distance, Eddie could see the white long sleeves were struggling to contain their crossed, muscular arms. Jesus, who are these people? Eddie looks down in shock. Eddie’s eyes are back on the golden sash student as they hop down from their high point to go up to the two sparrers.

Taking one of the swords as they talk, they ready themselves for what seems to be a demonstration. Eddie watches as they start swinging the sword around, immediately catching the attention of all the other students around. They can be seen talking as they move so fiercely. Each swing of the sword is incredibly controlled and impactful. The fight is intense, yet the observer is basically floating, light on their feet, still talking. Everything done was talked through and masterfully executed. You definitely had to be their leader.

Without much difficulty, you were able to disarm your opponent, turning to the one you assumed the place of with a nod, handing them back their sword. Some of the students watching even clapped. Eddie looked on in disbelief at the scene that just unfolded. Wow. He looks down at his half empty plate. Those look like real heroes.

The rest of his lunch was spent taking bites of his food as he looked out the window, utterly intrigued. A cough of someone clearing their throat brings Eddie out of his trance. He whips his head around to see Matthew the Guide looking down at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time I take you to your dorm for you to become acquainted with your new roommate.” He says with a small, kind, and a little awkward smile. Eddie raises his brow and nods.

“Whatever you say,” Eddie stands, bringing his backpack up with him. He stands an inch or so above Matt. He cocks his head to the side and gives him a sarcastic grin. “Dashing young fellow.” Eddie says, mimicking Matt's English accent. Matt's small smile drops a bit. He sighs, a small glare squinting his eyes.

“We’ll be waiting for you over by the doors.” He turns and strides away. Eddie huffs out a puff of air. He picks up the remnants of his lunch and drops it off at a trash can on his way to where Henry and the other two new kids stand. “Alright, now that we’re all here.” He smiles sarcastically at Eddie before turning to the other two with a more genuine smile. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Matt leads the three to the different student housing areas. They dropped off the teenage girl to her building, Matt handing her off to that building’s dorm manager. Next was the young boy Eddie would come to know as Anthony. He was dropped off at his door as he, Eddie, and Matthew all stayed in the same building. Once he disappeared behind the door with his new roommate, Matt and Eddie were left alone. “Come on.” Matt says, walking away without sparing another glance at Eddie. Eddie’s lip turns up in a grimace.

“Hey, man. Careful with the attitude.” He bites back, catching up with Matthew. He scoffs.

“Me? You’re the one with an attitude, young fellow.” Matt gives Eddie a hard look. Eddie is stubborn with his defiance.

“Whatever, man.” Eddie scoffs and looks away.

“Listen, I understand if you are not necessarily happy to be here, but you don’t need to be rude.” Eddie’s brows raise in disbelief.

“I’m not being rude, and don’t act like you know anything about me. You’re the one who gave me a weird look the second I get here.” Eddie shoots back. Matt sighs.

“Like Shaw said, we don’t usually get new students over the age of 16, so I was just a bit caught off guard. I admit it may have not been very welcoming, but I don’t think that should get me on your bad side before we’ve even gotten to know each other.” Matt goes on.

Eddie glances over at the guide through his peripheral. They enter the empty elevator, heading up. Matt stares forward with his jaw clenched, obviously annoyed that he has to be in an enclosed space with Eddie. There’s a few seconds of silence after the doors close before Eddie sighs.

“Look, man.” Eddie starts. “I’m sorry. These past few months have really turned my world… upside down.” Eddie frowns with a thousand yard stare. Henry spares Eddie a glance over his shoulder. Eddie rolls his shoulders back, bringing himself back to reality. “I’m used to being Eddie ‘The Freak’. Ironically, even here I’m a freak among ‘freaks’.” The way Matt doesn’t even bat an eye at being called a freak is a bit strange for Eddie. “I guess, I just came in swingin’, preemptively judging you too early.” Eddie tilts his head. “You kind of remind me of this one guy, ‘The King’ of Hawkins. He was a pretty big asshole to ‘freaks’." Matthew nods understandingly. “But, what do you know, he turned out alright when I met him again later.” Eddie sighs, “Sorry.”

“You know, you should realize something,” Eddie looks up, eyes on the back of Matt's head as he stares forward. “Nevermore is a school just like every other, but most people here are coming from a place in your shoes. Sometimes people here forget, but outside these walls, beyond that gate, we’re all just freaks, monsters,... evil to the rest of the world.” Matt looks down the bridge of his proud nose with a familiar distant stare. The elevator doors open and Matthew walks out without missing a beat.

They pass a few doors before Matt speaks up again. “I am your ‘mentor’,” He halts in front of a door, turning to Eddie, “I am not your enemy.” He looks Eddie in the eyes with determination, trying to get through to him. “You should know, even if we are not meant to be ‘friends’, I am still an ally. If you need help with anything, you can reach out to me.” Eddie holds Matt's gaze, unsure of what to say next. He’s never gotten an actual warm welcome before. Matt's lips form a thin line as he gives Eddie a tight smile before nodding once. He lifts a hand to knock on the door they are outside of.

There's stumbling and a commotion on the other side of the door. Eddie’s brows crease in suspicion at the noises, but Matt just sighs and rolls his eyes. The door swings open revealing a young, dark skinned boy with wide, shocked eyes. He was huffing like he just ran a marathon, undoubtedly from stumbling over stuff in the room to get to the door. “Junior.” Matt says in a warning tone through gritted teeth and an annoyed smile. Junior avoids Matt's eyes by awkwardly staring at anything on the floor.

Eddie glances between Matt and the kid, Junior. Matt turns to Eddie, “Eddie, meet Junior,” He turns to gesture to the kid. “Your new roommate.” Matt raises a threatening brow at Junior. “Junior, meet Eddie.”

“H-Hi,” The kid’s voice cracks awkwardly, “Come- Come on in.” Junior turns to walk away from the door, going further into the room. Eddie glances one last time at Matt. Matt looks over to Eddie with a sigh and raises his brows.

“Good luck.” He mutters as he walks away. Before Eddie can follow up with Matt's concerning final words, Junior starts rambling.

“Here, over here is your bed, obviously as it’s the empty one, and over here is mine, obviously. Um, I moved some things around, but you’re more than welcome to move anything around how you’d like, I mean, as long as, you know, you leave my side of things alone, unless you want this side, we- we can figure something out that works for both of us. Over there,” he turns to point at a door next to the one Eddie just entered through. “That- That’s the bathroom. It’s pretty nice, we have a tub, shower, sink, toilet, everything needed, and, uh,” Junior keeps rambling as Eddie slowly walks through the space.

It’s shockingly spacious. Once he passes the entryway, the place expands into a large, square room. This is nothing Eddie expected for a dorm. The full-sized beds are on opposite sides of the room with enough respective furniture for two people. Each side has its own bed, dresser, desk with a lamp and chair. Junior has a foldable, wooden divider next to his bed, blocking his bed from Eddie’s. On either side of the room were two archways leading into an extra individual area. Without being too nosy, Eddie could see that Junior’s side has a plant and a bookshelf. His side seemed a bit barren.

Eddie back glances at Junior’s side, finding it an odd mixture of neat and messy. The younger’s clothes were filling a dirty laundry hamper to the brim, but there was not a trace of anything on his floor. His mirror was squeaky clean, but his dresser had different, mismatched knickknacks littered over the top. His desk had papers spewed all over with multiple open books, but the chair was tucked in and pens, markers, and pencils were organized by color and size in a storage container. His bed wasn’t made, but he had shiny shoes neatly lined under the bed frame.

The rambling kid himself was set up in a similar fashion, his appearance is pristine, his white shirt tucked into ironed pants, shoes shined, necktie tightened and perfectly aligned, but man, the kid would not take a breath. “It’s nice to meet you.” Eddie interrupts whatever he was on about. Junior comes to a complete stop, turning to Eddie with raised brows.

“Sorry, I forgot my manners.” He shoots out a hand with his chin lifted high, back straight as a board in perfect posture. “Junior Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister.” Eddie slowly reaches out to shake Junior’s hand. He raises a brow with a small smile.

“Shaw?” They shake hands for a bit too long due to Junior not knowing when to let go.

“Yeah… He’s my dad.” Junior tilts his chin down to hide his face. This is the first time Eddie notices the small horns growing atop his head, just barely peeking out in his thick dark hair. Eddie nods as his smile grows. “Oh.” Junior drops his hand. “Sorry.” The awkwardness of the kid makes Eddie’s heart swell. It’s oddly comforting. “Uh…” Junior trails, seemingly trying to fill the silence but not knowing what to say.

Eddie walks off, heading over to his side of the room. His eyes immediately land on the bed, seeing his new uniforms and his old suitcase. That was fast. He runs his fingers gently across the striped fabric. “Oh!” Junior says abruptly, grabbing Eddie’s attention. He turns to see Junior running to his dresser, picking something up, and turning to rush up to give it to Eddie. “Here.” He hands Eddie a small welcoming gift. It was a gift basket with some pens, pencils, notebooks, and other miscellaneous school supplies. On top of it all was a purple card with gold writing on it. ‘Welcome, Edward!’ it read, causing Eddie to bite back a small smile. “I know,” He raises a brow looking up from the basket to Junior. “It’s kind of cheesy, but my dad said giving you a welcome gift would make you feel more… welcome… yeah.” He says. Eddie gives him a kind smile.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Welcome.” He says before walking away to go to his desk and sit in the wooden chair. Eddie takes a seat on his bed, next to his uniforms, and places the welcome gift beside him on top of the neatly folded clothes. “So, uh…” Junior starts, “You’re kind of old…er… older. Older than the usual new students.” Eddie chuckles and nods.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just curious, is all. Sorry.”

“No worries. I’ve been getting it all day.” He tilts his head. “You know I’m not old. I’m only 19, going to be 20 this year.” Junior nods without looking up at him, instead focusing his eyes on the papers on his desk.

“That’s cool. My dad told me we’re taking in more students, probably opening up a new department or something like that. So, how’d you end up here?” Junior asks absentmindedly. The question takes Eddie off guard a little. What is he supposed to say? He turned into a monster and attacked his uncle after dying in battle in an alternate dimension. Would that make sense even here? Junior takes Eddie’s elongated silence as a sign. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell. Told you, I’m just curious, probably too much for my own good.”

“I… acquired some new… powers?” Eddie thinks of how to word an explanation without going too in depth. “So, I got sent here to try and help… control them.”

“Oh, an Acquirer. That makes sense.” Eddie tilts his head in intrigue at the new title, but before Eddie can ask for clarification, Junior bombards him with some questions. “Have you looked at any of your classes yet, seen any clubs, you know, if you’re into that? Were you in any clubs or sports back when you were in your old school?”

“No,” he chuckles, “No sports. I’m not a sports guy.” Junior nods. “But I did have a club I was leading, called Hellfire.” Junior turns in his chair to look at Eddie with a curious look.

“Hellfire? What was it about?” Eddie’s eyes light up a bit, now that’s a question he loved to answer.

“Well, it was a mystical gathering of the most daring and creative minds.” Eddie began with a smirk and squinted eyes, enjoying the familiar innocent curiosity on the young boy’s face. “Creatures of all kinds, from all over would gather to travel together and fight great battles, solve fantastical mysteries, and establish their title as heroes.” Eddie says in a theatrical tone, drawing Junior’s interest. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head and looking down. “It was a club where I would host DND campaigns after school.” He smiled, reminiscing. Junior raises his brows and nods.

“Oh, I’ve heard about DND! Sounds a lot like Slayers, just minus the tabletop portion.” Eddie lifts his head to the smiling boy.

“Slayers, huh?’ Junior nods.

“Yeah, Dungeon Slayers Club, officially, but we just call it Slayers for short. It was kind of inspired by DND, but you know, we’re the actual ‘creatures’.” Junior explains. “It takes all the fun of DND and brings it into real life. We really train and fight and go on quests and everything. It’s really fun.” He beams.

“Is that the club with the emblems on their backs, the group of students out in that courtyard during lunch?” Junior’s brows raise.

“Yeah. I wasn’t there during lunch today. Usually, the lunch gatherings are just us hanging out during our break. The real club takes place after school.” Junior says matter-of-factly. “First official meetup of the season is tomorrow.” Eddie nods.

“Think I can come and check it out?” Junior's brows raise again, and his eyes go wide.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I mean, we’re always welcoming to new people, at least they were with me. I was the last person who joined, but, uh we’re not really the most popular group.” He rambles. “Slayers doesn’t really have the best reputation. It’s kind of…infamous? Most of the other students see us as a paranoid bunch of…well, losers, like end of the world preppers or stuck in the past people or whatever. I don’t know if you’d want to start yourself out by associating yourself with us. You- You may want to check out something else like the fencing team or- or something” He says bouncing his gaze around in one of his awkward antics.

“No,” Eddie stops him, “I want to check it out.” He says firmly. Junior, though a bit shocked, becomes excited.

“Oh Okay, well, tomorrow then, I can bring you with me to the club during lunch so you can meet some of the members and maybe we can get you to talk to the leader. They’re awesome.” Junior begins with a glint in his eye. “They’ve been heading Slayers for, like, the last four years, been in the club for even longer. They’re so cool, really.” He says seriously, nodding his head. “If the world ever did come to an end. They’re definitely someone you’d want on your side. They’re, like, really amazing. They can out fight and out smart anybody, I swear.” He nods in approval. Eddie smiles. I wonder if this is how they talk about me. I hope so. Junior turns back to the homework on his desk, “They’re a great leader. You’d like them, 100%.” He nods again.

Eddie and Junior sit in a comfortable silence, the loudest noise coming from Junior’s pencil against paper. Eddie stands after a minute or two and begins unpacking his things, organizing his half how he wants. “Do you usually study in silence, or is it just cause I’m here?” Eddie asks as he closes his last drawer and turns to look at the back of Junior.

“No, I usually work this way. Sorry if that’s weird, but- but don’t worry about me. If you want to play music or watch something, don’t worry about me.” He lifts a hand to wave dismissively. Eddie nods and walks away from the dresser.

“You know, I think I’m going to do a little exploring.” Eddie announces as he heads to the door. Junior lifts his head.

“Oh, do you want me to come with? I could help show you around.” He offers, but Eddie shakes his head with a wave of his hand.

“No, just continue with your work. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna wonder and get familiar.” Eddie says with a small smile. “Be back later, kid.” He turns to leave without another word.

As soon as Eddie is outside of the dorm building, he decides to just pick a direction and start walking. He walks around the campus, again getting some looks from passing students as he’s the only one out of uniform. He leisurely wanders around, eventually stopping in an outdoor hallway that surrounds a small courtyard in the middle of one of the buildings. As he stands there, he stares at a familiar stranger’s face.

You were sitting at the end of a wooden bench at one of the picnic tables. In front of you, sat on top of the table was a boy with ivory skin and brown, fluffy, curly hair. He was slim but obviously muscular and had a killer smile that you couldn't help but return. Sat beside you was the same onlooker he saw earlier, the one who stood beside the boulder at lunch.

She seemed a bit more relaxed and was leaning on her elbows that were rested on the table in front of her. Her brown waves were loose from their little ponytail and now let down, cropped at her shoulders. She was also looking up at the boy who was talking, quite animated, about something Eddie couldn't quite hear.

Though you didn't know of his existence and he had never spoken a word to you, Eddie couldn’t help but admire your smile. It was easy to get distracted by you. Aside from being a total warrior badass, you were simply gorgeous. The shine in your eyes, the way the world around you brightens with your smile, the curves of your nose, the creases of your face as it contorts with laughter. This is the leader of the ‘infamous' ‘loser’ club? It was confusing. Eddie couldn't comprehend how anyone could not like whatever had your stamp of approval. You and your personality screamed positively infectious and contagious. It was plain to see. Even from a distance, Junior’s fanboying over you made total sense.

Eddie stood in the shadows of the hall just watching you and your interactions with your friends. He couldn't help but feel a bit envious. Abruptly he winces, flinching at the all too familiar feeling in his brain.

The sharp migraines he'd gotten ever since waking up in that place have started to dull, feeling more akin to an unreachable itch or a fuzzy static. He didn't know if the pain was weaker or if he was just building a tolerance. Eddie sighs, opening his eyes to see you and your friends standing and collecting your things. Before any of you can notice his presence, he takes his leave, disappearing out of the courtyard corridors and closing in on a new found back exit off campus.

Eddie walks along the road that leads up to the campus before he makes his way into the wooded area that lines the pavement. Once he feels he's gone far enough, the buzzing itch returns. He groans, annoyed at the feeling.

He knows he's alone out here, but he can't help himself from looking around him to see if anyone is watching. Once he decides the coast is clear, he kneels down, closes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, slowing his heart rate. He reaches a hand out and rests it on the massive trunk of the fallen tree he'd stopped in front of. He takes deep breaths during the entire exchange, feeling the wood beneath his fingers shift.

The feeling of a numb rush floods his veins as the headache dissipates. He knows that means he's done right. He opens his eyes, seeing the newly opened glowing gate. Again, he looks around him before looking back at the portal. Every time he opens a new door between worlds, that area in the back of his brain tells him he's done something right, but his heart still makes him feel like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, constantly scared he's going to get caught doing something he's not supposed to.

One of these new found powers of his was the ability to open passages from this world to the other. At first, it felt wrong. There were so many bad memories there, but he'd always felt compelled to open these doors. Now, it's more so akin to a guilty pleasure, something he knows he shouldn't enjoy, but he can't resist. It calls to him. Plus if Vecna is dead, what is so wrong about it?

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Evermore Tag List (OPEN):

@ali-r3n  @mother-oshun @madelynraemunson  @starmilks @ohmeg

Swisslist (General Tag List):

@rosecentury @solacedthistest

[mambalae-s]

everstill ━ geto suguru x reader

wc: 5.3k

cw: angst; self-loathing; description of a panic attack; reader is described as a chubby black woman; unprotected sex; creampies; bathtub sex; please let me know if i'm missing anything here!

notes from author: do NOT interact with this post if you are below the age of 18 ━ i will block you.

you hate the woman you see in the mirror. with every ounce of your heart, you despise her.

your brown eyes of earth and deep autumn, they pick your body apart along cruel tears and whispers so dark that you wish they’d stay hidden, that they’d disappear into a dark night, for them to never return. yet, during your eleventh hours, they do — they haunt you like ancient demons that would carve sigils beneath your skin, so that they may be summoned time and time again when your eyes meet your reflection. tonight, you mourn, feels as if it will be no different.

before you, stands a girl who pretends to be a woman. broken, so terribly and utterly broken this girl, with her dark skin littered with eons of fractures just like a vase waiting to fall apart. her imperfect body lays bare between your brown eyes, and even your tears aren’t enough to shield you from the unsightly mars you find, try as they may. your vision turns hazed and your eyes sting terribly, but still you see the weight that sits on your bones, and you believe it unsightly. you believe your belly too big and your face too round; you hate the way your breasts hang lower than they used to, how your hips crease and bend like the sides of a violin. the stretch marks that litter your brown skin, they remind you of lines carved carelessly by a dull knife and you find them hideous, where your voice disappears between your lips beneath poisoned sobs and choked back cries.

yet, oh ever-yet still, could this not be enough to hurt you? it is — it’s already more than enough, yet your cross sits heavily on your shoulders, and your crown of thorns are yet another labyrinth of invisible scars marred into your temple. there’s a pain unseen that runs beneath veins shredded to red ribbons, so beautiful in their tragedy as they pour your heart through bleeding cuts. visceral carnage told through two decades of betrayal from the people closest to you, whose tongues hid sharpened blades dipped in a purple venom, their damages still felt in their absence, a gaping chasm that you’ve placed between you and your past. it’s vast and merciless, and you’d vowed never to speak their names evermore, nevermore, and yet still, they haunt you in the remnants of their memories like childhood ghosts, and with each cruel apparition comes a clarity you wish so desperately that you’d stay oblivious to — those people of your flesh and blood, they never did care for you. and even now, they never will.

you only pray, with your bleeding heart cupped in hands painted red, that you and your broken pieces would be enough for one man alone.

there’s a sound of a door that opens in the deafening quiet, the wooden structure so gentle as it slides shut, yet it jars you so and your breath locks inside your throat. fear is familiar, yet comes to you as a stranger, it’s face so foreign and the touch of its cold fingers out of place where you’re hidden away in sanctuary. you shouldn’t feel fear when you know where you are — you’re home, and you wait between the comfort of four flaming wands for your darling to return. you know it’s only him coming back to you, but you’re so vulnerable and you’ve done everything to tear yourself apart in his absence that you panic and your skin crawls with the taste of bile in the back of your throat. you can’t let him see you like this, not when the cracks in your frame have deepened to the bone and rendered you asunder — he shouldn’t know of these demons that torture you on malevolent hymns, you pray he never will. you know what you must do — you know the door to this vast, coffee painted bathroom only stands so many steps away from you, but it seems so far all the same and the distance is daunting and you’re too terrified to move. your lungs forget the taste of oxygen and become intoxicated on the poisonous lack thereof, your heart abandons you and runs wild through a plain of darkness and every nerve tangles around your spine like a snake whose fangs bury themselves deep inside your jugular. here you stand, frozen, naked; afraid and bare just as the day you were born, and it’s in this state — a gentle knock raps against the bathroom door, one, two beats that don’t dare to catch pace with your racing heart as he calls your name — that suguru finds you.

the shoji door slides open despite the cries of your heart for it to stay closed, and the thin bamboo frame exposes you mercilessly to the man who stands behind it. you take in the picture of him in front of you; watch his eyes first melt and a smile paint his lips, before his familiar visage turns to one of worry as he looks at you, truly looks at you and sees you, just as he’s always done. he sees your puffy eyes, stricken red by tears as salty as the dead sea; your lips which quiver with the frigidness of a harsh winter’s 4 am; your chest that shutters up and down, up and down, desperate for the mercy of air and, gods, you must look so pitiful, and you hate yourself for letting him see you this way.

“angel, what’s the matter?” suguru sounds as breathless as you feel and you can’t understand why, but you’re so desperate in this moment to let everything go. you’re so close to falling apart as his hurried steps close the distance and you want to reach out to him, to hold him and reassure him that you’re fine, ‘i’m fine,’ but the words are too heavy and your cross weighs down on your back like a vice. and beneath yellow fluorescence that shines like a cruel sun, you crumble as soon as his arms wrap around your naked body.

“oh, angel… it’s okay.” suguru holds you, hushes you as your body wrecks itself apart on childish cries, your voice broken on abandon as you sob into his chest. “shh, shhh… i’m here, (y/n)… i’m here. i’m right here…”

“m’— m’so sorry, suguru…!” your hands find purchase in the dark fabric he wears, holding so tightly as you apologize and beg for forgiveness. “m’so— sorry..! m’so sorryyy…!” cracks bend the pitch of your voice and turns you into the wounded little girl who’d only ever known how to cry. “you s-shouldn’t… y-you shouldn’t see m-me like this… m’ so sorry, suguru, m’sorry…!”

suguru’s arms wrap around you tightly as he pulls your face against his chest, his chin resting atop puffy curls and his palms spread against the flat of your back. “no, no, baby, no… you don’t need to apologize to me… you’re doing nothing wrong, it’s okay.”

you feel your snot and tears staining his shirt, the feeling so ugly to you that your body feels repulsed and you want to pull away lest you dirty him any further, and it’s as he senses your thoughts and he tightens his hold around you. each gentle hush pushes gently through every sob that racks your lungs as he gently cups the back of your head and pulls you closer into his chest, as if to tell you that he couldn’t care any less about his clothes being dampened by your tears. “there, baby girl, there,” he whispers against your hair, soft, patient, and loving. “take a deep breath for me, hm? in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

biting your lip in a weak attempt to control your sobs, you do as he says, and suguru repeats the action in sync with you as his heartbeat thuds against your ears, a gentle drumming noise that grounds you against the feeling of him being here, hands pressed against your skin, lips resting atop your head. “that’s it… just like that, angel. you’re doing good.” he praises you on a quiet whisper. “one more time, okay?”

just as he asks of you, you breathe once more, imploring your traitorous lungs to do as he desires, because he desires. for him, you let him show you how to breathe, and his scent washes over you on nodes of petrichor and rain washed mountains. you breathe, and abandon all else that isn’t him, clinging to him like a lifeline, for he keeps your head above violent waves and saves you, just as he always does.

“that’s it, (y/n)… thank you.” the hand that rests on your back comes to your chin, he tilts your face upwards so that you’ll look at him and gods, the sight of those brown eyes causes your head to spin. somehow, they’re wet and his dark lashes are lined with beautiful tears, and he looks at you so tenderly, so full of care, with affection in the place where you’d expected to see disdain. “you did so good for me.” he praises you with a soft kiss to your forehead, his cool breath ghosting against your skin. “so, so good. such a good girl for me.”

you sniffle and wrap your hands around his back, feeling the need to hide yourself from him so that those perceptive eyes won’t peer down at you any longer. you feel as if you should cover yourself lest he look at your broken form with such amour, because how can something so damaged ever dare to take so selfishly? “m sorry, suguru…”

yet again, you apologize, because you’re not sure what else you can do. shame is a bitter medicine on your tongue that you force down with a grimace, your throat locks around it and your body wants to refuse it. you’re too scared to meet his eyes and you worry that, this time — this time for sure, you’ll se disgust, hatred, the very same that looks back at you in your reflection. how could someone like you, after all, so fragmented and imperfect and so horribly ruined, ever meet those eyes and accept with your heart that he looks at you and loves you despite?

and yet again — time and time again, and again, and again — he does. his touch is compassionate against your right cheek when he guides your face upwards, and his lips, they’re merciful. merciful, and loving, and tender and all when he presses them to your puffed eyelids. his thumb, even the soft touch of it alone lights your skin along glowing embers as he uses it to caress your skin and he breathes — exhale, inhale — and you mimic him in the action, so, so desperate to taste his air.

“(y/n),” a whisper of your name that echoes against coffee painted walls, it sinks into your heart and holds it close. “angel, you don’t need to apologize to me.” his kisses, they’re eons of a love you’ve only ever dreamed of having, never enough, never enough are you to ever hope of being worthy, never daring of wanting, of having. “i’m here for you.” and his lips, they linger by your eyelids, where the salt of your tears leak like a faucet. “i’m here, and i always will be, okay? i’ll always be here. trust me, okay?”

ah, and there it is. that plea, so soft it would vanish had he spoken any quieter, and yet so resolute, as it his words were the creation of the universe itself. your brown eyes water and the tears run freely, collecting atop his palm where he kindly wipes them away. you can’t trust your voice, so you grasp on to his wrist and lean further into his touch, wishing, evermore praying that you’d never depart from it and you nod. you hope and beg to the gods that would listen, that your heart could perhaps sing her broken songs loud enough for him to hear, that her voice could carry through childlike sobs and that he’d understand. he does, he always does, and he smiles down at you and takes your lips with his in a show of devotion and worship that overpowers your every sense and paints pictures of a god and his devoted follower. and that god, you find through suguru’s lips, you find that she’s you. that she looks like you through his eyes, eternal and heavenly, with her hand stretched down from the heavens, and your devotee, him. a man that holds on to your viscage with so much reverence and adoration, touching you as if just the feel of you could grant him eternal life. he revers you with his kisses, with the touch or warm fingers that leave their mark in your bloodstream, where they dance between your veins and fill you up anew. he kisses you and devours each sweet plea of his name, each fragile cry, and he paints them across his skin on amour eterno.

“lemme take care of you tonight, angel.” geto’s lips are searing across yours, where the taste of your tears sit heavy on his tongue and you remind yourself to swallow lest your heart leaps into your throat. carefully, he guides you backwards, and he’s smiling at you, so lovingly, so tenderly — just as the touch of his hands and each kiss that flutters across your cheek. soon, the back of your legs hit the cold edges of the large bathtub, and you fear for a moment — a silly, fleeting moment, that you’d fall and you yelp, grasping on to his biceps and clinging for dear life, but suguru, he holds you firm, never wavering his grip around your hip and chuckling softly when you bump into his chest.

“i’ve got you angel,” he lays another kiss between your brow before he gently pushes you down, so that you now sit on the very edge of the bathtub. “here, lemme run you a nice warm bath, okay? just sit tight and wait for me right here — i’ll start gathering everything and i’ll make it just the way you like it.”

“suguru,” before you can stop yourself, your hand flies to grab hold of his wrist, stopping him before he can get too far. your eyes, they’re pleading up at him, and again, shame dances in your gut like terrible vise. “you don’t have to…” your head shakes, and your nails dig into his skin without you taking account of your actions, only yet feeling the desperation that wraps around your voice. “i don’t wanna… don’t wanna cause trouble for you after a long day.”

there’s a soft, soft exhale that falls from suguru’s lips, yet within that breath, you hear no malice or frustration, no hint of annoyance that you’d convinced yourself he must’ve been feeling. instead, he leans down, his weight balanced on his heels and he takes your hands in his, where his thumbs trace circles across your knuckles and his touch, evermore warm. his eyes, they resemble the deepest hour of midnight, so dark and enchanting and you, you’re enraptured beneath them, your fragile heart singing his praises and glory be.

“i want to.” he utters, and in those words are a promise untold. “it’s no trouble at all. trust me, hm?” endearingly, his head tilts to the side, little wisps of black hair slipping across his forehead as he leans forward and presses his face into the bare skin of your chest. your arms wrap around his shoulders, and your face buries atop his head where his black hair tickles your nose, and you sigh, relenting.

“okay…”

he hums softly before squeezing you tighter, for a second and then more, and he presses a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts as he pulls away and sets to work. he lets the bathtub fill with warm water, a beautiful golden bathbomb from your favourite store scattering glitters and bubbling up beneath the clear water. you watch him set alight the honey oatmilk and almond scented candle he knows you love the most, and sprinkles a few droplets of lavender and grapeseed oil into the bath before shutting the water off. he’s set everything up just the way you love, ever so considerate, ever so caring, and it warms your heart and brings new tears to your eyes because you can’t understand — how could he love you so?

“is the water okay?”

you lean into the hand pressed against your cheek, falling into the warmth he radiates between the orange candlelight and smile at him, humming. “mhm… will you join me?”

“of course my love.” he whispers as he presses a kiss against your temple. “here, lemme get undressed, why don’t you go ahead and get in?”

you do as he says, sliding your legs over the white porcelain to stick your feet into the bubbly water. it’s warm, and the glitter sticks to your brown skin like a thousand beautiful shards of gold, they paint themselves over your visage in the light of fluttering kaleidoscopes. taking a deep breath, you slide in, and let yourself be encompassed by the love you’ve been presented in act of service. and soon enough, suguru joins you too, completely bare and his hair tied up as he slides in behind you, where his hands pull you snug between his legs and against his chest.

“thank you, suguru…” you sigh as your head lulls back and falls into the crook of his neck. his hands, so firm, yet careful, rub circles into your hips, molding away at each tense muscle and you, helplessly, melt. “i’m sorry i’m making you take care of me like this… you must’ve had such a long day.”

behind you, suguru presses another kiss beneath your hairline, where his lips linger with his breath and his arms squeeze you tighter against him. “it’s no trouble, my love.” he reassures you softly, as your body softens and turns to putty within the sanctuary of his embrace. “you’re going through a hard time, i don’t want you to ever apologize for that.”

“but…” your words quiver on something you don’t understand, its weight on your throat like a noose that stops your breath. you’re scared to face the man behind you, yet the comfort his arms is so profound that you consider, maybe, he wouldn’t turn you away. and your eyes — those beautiful, brown eyes of gaia, earthly mother — they look up at suguru, your neck angled up, and you find glory in his smile. “i feel like i’m a burden… i don’t…” oh god, those eyes, they overwhelm and consume you just like the night sky, where within them your reflection shines back at you like the milky way — beautiful and enchanting, but god, how unworthy you feel. “i don’t have any right to make you worry for me…”

“oh, angel…” the water makes noise as suguru lifts his hand and his body shifts so that he can turn you to the side, wanting to look at you better, for you to look at him. his hand finds home on top of your cheek where his thumb caresses your skin, tracing little hearts as they trail down to your quivering lips. wistfully, he sighs, and there’s an aching there in his voice when he whispers,

“if only you could see yourself the same way that i see you. if you could see that you’re so worthy of love, so, so worthy and deserving, you’d never think of yourself as a burden. (y/n), i love you — even through these hard days and painful nights, i’ll never leave your side. the space you hold here in my heart,” with his other hand, he reaches up and pulls your palm flat against his chest, and there’s a gentle bum, bum, bum that sings to you amorous melodies. “you have every right to hold and stay here… never for a second doubt that, okay? you’re not a burden… loving you could never be a burden.”

when he kisses you, you break all over again.

between his lips, you taste the poems of old greece, songs written for persephone and aphrodite, legends of goddesses revered and worshipped. your world spins on the winters of agape as your mouth molds against his and your hands, they desperately wrap around his shoulders and knot into his hair, where your fingers tangle and pull apart his bun so that black tresses fall and tickle your skin. oh, how wonderfully your world spins — and how precious this kiss, the feeling of his body burning you on ravishing fires that you fear you’ll turn to nothing but ashes, ashes, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

“suguru…” breathlessly, you whimper his name like a prayer for salvation, your skin suddenly hot inside the cooling bath. your very bones ache for him, and yet, your feeble soul tells you you’re unworthy, unworthy. that you don’t deserve his love.

but suguru, he proves to you that you are more than worthy.

without ever parting your lips, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, fingers spread across your back before settling into the flesh of your hips. beneath his touch, you become all too aware of your imperfections, of the fat beneath your skin and the stretch marks raised like lines of a map. but before your heart withers, suguru holds you and pulls you back into him before you can fall too deep.

“you can’t begin to imagine,” his voice, so soft, so sweet, it rings in husks against the shell your ear where he nibbles and bites, the sensation of his tongue sending shockwaves down your spine and you grip him tighter, moaning. “how much i absolutely adore you. every part of you.” his teeth suckle and bite your neck, his tongue draws circles and his lips suck fresh bruises along every inch of you he can reach. “how i worship you… how i love you.”

his fingers dig into your flesh as he rocks his hips against you; squeezing, feeling, positively devouring. “every part of you. every inch of you…” he reaches one hand for your breast, swollen and matured with time, no longer perky, but so full and round. he moulds them in the palm of his hands, his fingers aptly pinching your engorged nipples and twisting so that you squeal and throw your head back on a cry of his name. “you’re a work of art… the height of renaissance — the very image of perfection.”

his words are astoundingly clear amidst the fog inside your mind. they enrapture you, stealing your breath on the very taste of eros, and it teaches you hunger beyond hunger, the heat between your legs pouring through every vein as his erection rubs between your plush thighs. perfection, he called you — the word a concept so far placed from you that you thought he might’ve been delusional. but those thoughts don’t dare stay with you for long before suguru pulls you back down to earth.

leaning forward, his hands guide you to by your soft and squishy hips to hover above his waist, legs spread wide and your eyes looking down at him. “fuck, (y/n), if only you could see yourself the way i see you…” your nails dig into the flesh of his back as he swipes his tongue over your brown nipples, sucking until the bud would be drowned in his spit and your nerves choking on pleasure. your knees nearly buckling out from beneath you, you whimper, breaths heavy and laboured, all as his lips continue to roll your nipple between them, his cheeks hollowing to take in more of you until your areola disappears into his warm mouth. “if only you could feel the love you give to me each and every day, you’d never think of yourself the way you do…”

the way he touches you makes your head spin, his lips take your soul apart and makes you forget up from down and the colours around you blur on senseless desire, adoration. his tongue, truly, it worships your brown skin, his fingers poking between your thighs until they find where you need him the most. wetness manifests in a slickness that differs from the waters surrounding you as he spreads your pussylips apart, only so lightly touching that it hurts on what you can only call wanton desperation, needing him to be inside you, to be close to you. for him to hold you and love you until you couldn’t take anymore.

“suguru…” you plead breathlessly as your hips rut and shift, bucking against his digits sliding over you. “please…! please… can’t take anymore, just hold me… please hold me…”

here you are before him, weak and vulnerable. within your watery eyes, suguru finds in them his name, his visage painted with the word of ‘surrender’ — and you surrender to him. everything that you ever were, and all that you are now, he sees the way you offer it all in the name of love, pleading, hoping that it’ll be enough. yet, oh, don’t you know? to him, who would take saturn from the sky and place him between your hands, you’re so much more than enough; instead, you’re everything — everything and more, ever yet, ever still.

leaning back, suguru guides you with his palm against his face, your body chasing the warmth of his as the waters turn cold. he kisses you, and the feeling, it’s as if it would last forever. invocations of psalms taste like your religion founded on love and agape, as old an eternal and never-ending as the stars across the universe. your hunger, he satiates it, and the pain of endless time, he consumes it and so carefully takes it apart until all that’s left is you and him, him and you, here and now. and finally, finally, finally — he lets you release those cries and amourous solicitations of his name as he enters you slowly.

“su— ” your legs clench around his waist and you sob, clinging on to him for dear life as your body collapses into his lap. “suguru…!” the feeling of his cock spreading you apart tastes like a drug that courses through your bloodstream, throbbing and taking you to the very depths of eternity. his skin burns so hot against you, palms splayed across your back to pull you in closer, closer and yet never enough, where his very soul tries to break through the barriers of flesh all to embrace your spirit. his lips trail wet kisses along your cheek to follow each glistening teardrop, anguish that flourishes into proclamations of warmth and ever growing fondness that form crystalline diamonds and pour themselves all across his tongue. his hips roll slowly, and he savours every ounce of you that you give, even the parts of you that you’ve tried to hide. every demon that’s haunted you, every ghost of pain and suffering and cruelty, he caresses them with his fingers and shows them love, beseeching and pleading that they’d let you see the extents he would go for you, even to the pits of hell if need be. for you, suguru would tear the world asunder and set it alight, so that you could paint this blank canvas with the warm and beautiful colours of your smile.

“i love you, (y/n)…” he vows as a man bent at the knee, you, his empress, a divine ruler who he could only dare to dream after. and yet, ever yet — here you are before him. so close, so intimate do your bodies entangle that he disregards all fear of blasphemy and unrighteousness as he tangles his hands at the nape of your neck and kisses you hungrily. his breaths trail the dark shadows whispered on the hateful words you’d spoken against yourself and rewrites their very chemistry, the bitter taste of “i’m not worthy,” ; “i’m not good enough,” ; “i’m a burden,” ; “i’m broken,” — they become the sweetness of summer’s nectarine, and become tender vows that he endeavours to sing to you, in this life time, in the next, and for all the ones that come hereafter.

“i love you… i’ll always love you. even during the days when you can’t love yourself. i’ll never stop loving you… i always will.”

the sound of his voice so close to your ear, it’s maddening, intoxicating, and yet it grounds you to him, urging you to entangle him and pull him in deeper as your walls wrap around him, craven and crying out each syllable of his name as you sink down on him over and over. “i love you too, suguru,” you whisper, breathless, truthful, and just like him, your declaration reaches heaven on the hymns that you’d always sing. “i love you, i love you… haah! i love you, suguru i love you…”

he presses his forehead and moans, gasping at the sensation of warmth that spills out of you on his cock. deep inside you, he wants to stay forever, determined to make his home between your legs, for his heart to rest with yours and yours alone. until he could no longer tell where you end and where he begins, yearning to become one with you in every sense of the word. and god, he feels himself reaching his limit as he burrows deep inside you, ever so greedy for that sweet release only you could give him. “fuck, (y/n)… i’m close, i’m so close…”

“me too…” you exhale heavily, you own climax building slow, yet threatening to tip you into oblivion all the same. you grind against him until his tip hits your deepest point, pressing against your cervix and threatening to go even further still. “‘m almost there suguru, i promise… don’t stop yet, ‘m gonna be there with you, ‘m almost there… please…”

your words pour over him like molten sugar and suguru feels his hunger roll over him like a gentle tide, tempting him to take you over and over until time becomes nothing but a myth. until he’d become your past, present and future, and until his name would reach the divine as a declaration for the woman after his heart.

he doesn’t release his hold on you as he shifts to his knees, his chest only parts from you for a moment (but god, how empty it feels for that short moment) as he pushes your back against the far corner of the bath, water splashing around your bodies as he leans over you and presses his lips against yours. he angles his hips and pushes into you over and over, making sweet love to you and taking every sugary cry of his name from right out of your mouth. and those beautiful, lonely stars in the sky, they’d forever sing the story of your bodies uniting as finally, you fall apart together, of the euphoria that spread through your veins and across your skin like magnificent galaxies. he cums inside of you, filling your quivering hole to the very brim as your own release milks him for everything he has, breathless beneath him and devouring every gasp of your name that touches your swollen lips.

the bathroom walls blur, the feeling of the water around him vanishes, and in the end, all that’s left is you. his beautiful heart, famished and weary, and your loving eyes that behold him as if he were your deity. a smile spreads across his lips, and though his body is worn, his soul delights in your visage, tasting elation like a sweet wine as he embraces you, gentle and mindful, for how precious you are that he holds you with utter care and tenderness.

“i love you, (y/n)” he whispers against your neck, where the warmth of your heart reaches him in each pulse he tastes. he doesn’t see it, but he feels you smiling, and melts within your hold as you wrap your arms around his back.

“i love you, suguru… thank you… thank you for loving me.”

© mambalae-s ━ rb's + feedback are greatly appreciated!

[alexendria-rose]

Evermore~

Sherlock Holmes X Reader

Warnings: sad times, cussing

I was the one who had it all I was the master of my fate I never needed anybody in my life I learned the truth too late I'll never shake away the pain I close my eyes but she's still there I let her steal into my melancholy heart It's more than I can bear

He knew letting her in his life was a bad idea, he knew falling in love with her was his biggest weakness. Looking at her from afar seeing her having a coffee from the sidelines as it poured outside, seeing her smile and laugh with someone other then him made his stomach churn in ways he didn't think were possible. He didn't understand this feeling, he never needed anyone, he was content by himself, but maybe he was wrong. Just maybe... he felt his heart drop as he saw the love of his life kiss someone else in front of him. He knew he let her go... all because of his selfish reasons all because he lied to her that he could never fall in love knowing that he was really protecting her from more pain

Now I know she'll never leave me Even as she runs away She will still torment me Calm me, hurt me Move me, come what may

"Sherlock why are you doing this!" She cried loudly as his back was turned not daring to lock eyes with her.

"I don't have friends, just like I don't do relationships. This was a joke Y/n..." He whispered softly. Y/n tears were rolling down her face, fist clumped together as she stared at the man she stupidly fell in love with.

"You're lying to me and yourself. Why are you doing this!" She shouted the tears just coming down her cheeks faster. Sherlock cleared his throat... he had to have her disconnect from him because he knew what he was going to have to do was going to hurt her more.

"Y/n you were just an experiment and its done, I cannot continue to be in this thing called "love" because I'm not someone who is loved. You need to understand." He says his face and tone monotone as he stared at her. Her lip trembled as she looked at him wiping her tears as she grabbed her coat.

"I never want to see you again." Her last words were before she exited the flat, his legs gave out as soon as she left the flat. And he kept to her word... she would never see him again.

His hand shock when he thought of the memory of the last time he saw her, knowing breaking her heart before he jumped off that building would save her and here she was with another man in love with her life, happy just the way he hoped, it didn't mean he didn't hurt. He's learned a lot since he's been away for two years, how much he missed her, how much he missed not being lonely and now he had to deal with the consequences of his own actions of pushing away the people he loved the most.

Wasting in my lonely tower Waiting by an open door I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in And be with me for evermore

Sherlock stood by his window closing his eyes as he played the melody of what he was feeling in that moment on his violin. His melody was full of heart break, full of loneliness and regret. He hasn't told anyone but Mrs. Hudson that he was back, he couldn't bare seeing the betrayal from the ones he left to fend for themselves. He was so immersed with his playing he didn't hear the sound of the door opening but he did hear the sound of glass dropping which immediately made him stop his playing turning around to the source of the noise, his eyes widening at the beautiful eyes looking into his.

"Y/n.." He whispers softly his eyes darting over her features. Her face looked like she just saw a ghost. Sherlock slowly puts the violin down as he makes his way towards her.

"You're dead, you're supposed to be dead." She whispered softly his eyes darting towards the broken cup that sat next to her feet.

"I'm not, it was all fake. I had to take down moriarty's network. I had to protect you." He mumbles softly making his way towards her, but she just stepped back not allowing herself to get close to him.

"No no this can't be happening..." She says her eyes not believing that he was actually in front of her. He reaches up and grabs her hand to tell her that this was indeed happening. Her eyes snap down to their hands, her hand trembling in his.

"Y/n I'm here, I promise. I came back for you." Sherlock says his voice wavering just slightly. She drops his hand and scoffs.

"Came back for me? I needed you two years ago!" She sobs turning her back to him, her hands gripping her hair. "Two. Bloody. Years. You made me believe awful things about you. You said I was an experiment, someone you could just toy with until you had your fix of me." She whips her head towards him, her eyes red from anger and sadness. Sherlock heart dropped at the sight of her, he never wanted this to happen.

I rage against the trials of love I curse the fading of the light Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach She's never out of sight

He never wanted to fall so deep for her, for her touch but right now he just wanted to hold her, he craved her touch and warmth, but for some reason she was still so far from him, out of sight from him even though she was right here staring at him with those sad eyes, but also full of anger.

"Y/n I did it, so you could live your life without me... I didn't want you to miss me, to love me when I had to go." He said his eyes pleading with her. She shook her head and a dry laugh escaping her lips.

"I still did asshole! I mourned for you, I talked to your stupid gravestone." She started pacing the flat her arms crossed. "I loved you Sherlock, you hurt me, you broke me, but knowing you died.. you took a piece of me with you and knowing you didn't love me back, knowing I was just a game." Sherlock rushes up to her grabbing her shoulders.

"Fuckin hell Y/n I loved you, I still love you, you're all I think about. All I wanted when I was away. You weren't an experiment-"

"I'm engaged Sherlock." She whispered softly her eyes glossing with tears. His breath hitches hearing those words he was absolutely dreading to hear. "It's two years too late." She mumbled backing away from his touch. "I have to go, I came to visit Mrs. Hudson. I can't do this Sherlock." She turns away, the glass crunching under her shoes as she walked out the door in front of him.

Now I know she'll never leave me Even as she fades from view She will still inspire me Be a part of everything I do Wasting in my lonely tower Waiting by an open door

Sherlock stared at the open door in front of him watching her shadow fade away as she was completely out of his reach. His heart dropped, knowing he will never get her back because of what he did to her. Knowing what he knew now he wished he could go back in time and do everything differently.

I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in And as the long, long nights begin I'll think of all that might have been Waiting here for evermore

Later that night Sherlock sat on his chair his eyes never leaving the door as he idly played with his violin trying to distract himself that she will never come back, that she'll never love him the same way she used to. She was gone in an instant and even though it hurt the last time, it hit him harder this time. Knowing someone else had her heart. The door opens, his heart swelling but soon realizing it was Mrs. Hudson his heart dropped but he still smiled at the little woman.

"I've brought you some tea dear," Mrs. Hudson says with a small sad smile walking over handing him the tea before sitting on Johns old chair. "I'm assuming Y/n now knows you've been alive this whole time?"

"Assume, you mean you were eavesdropping," Sherlock says his face blank with emotions as he sipped his tea.

"I am the landlady I have a right to know." She grinned, Sherlock letting out a little chuckle.

"Ah there's a smile." She says staring at the man in front of her who she could tell was in a lot of pain, "You know dear, love comes in different forms. She'll come around, I promise." Sherlock shakes his head taking another sip before setting his tea down.

"She's engaged, it's never going to happen." He murmured his eyes looking anywhere but his landlady's eyes knowing he will break his emotional wall if he dared looked at her.

"Well you'll never know my dear. Now get some rest." She whispered softly before standing up and exiting out of the flat. Sherlock watched as she leaved his eyes back on the closed door, he rests his head back on the couch his hands resting on his face. He hears to door open again groaning,

"Mrs. Hudson really I'm fin-" He looks at the woman in front of him, his heart beating against his chest. Her clothes drenched in water, her hair stuck to her head as she was dripping from head to toe and her eyes red from crying.

"I can't marry him." Y/n whispered her hands balled up in firsts as her arms laid flat against her sides. Sherlock stands up from his chair walking over to her slowly, noting this time she wasn't walking backwards away from him.

"Why?" He whispered gently his body getting closer to hers. She sighs softly her eyes moving to her shoes back to his gaze.

"Because, I cannot marry someone that isn't you." Her eyes never wavering from his. His body is mere inches away from hers as he looks down at the woman in front of him.

"Good because I couldn't let you be with someone who wasn't me." He whispered before grabbing the sides of her face smashing his lips against hers, their mouths moving in need and passion. Her hands move up to his curls bringing his head closer to hers. He groans against her mouth moving his hands down to his hips. They both needed each other in that moment, afraid if they both pull away this moment would be gone forever, and for the rest of that night they did not leave each others embrace knowing they both needed each other and also needed to make up from those two years lost.

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Evermore: Part. Five

A/N: Hi everyone! I just wanted to give a quick shoutout to everyone who is liking this so far! I love you all!

Also, this is last chapter for this part. The next part is going to Part. Two of Evermore! Thank you

Warnings: There is a bit of smut here. Very light! Dirty talking etc.

Before I go on, I just wanted to give a quick shout out my besties @hollybee8917 ! For this wonderful moodboard and for edting! love you girl!

Captain Ari Levinson x Reader, and Lieutenant General Andy Barber.

The Levinson home was filled with friends and family. Especially Ari's friends from his platoon. Chloe was taken care of by her aunts and cousins. You made your rounds, greeting everyone who has made it. Sympathy words were given, flowers and cards too. 

During the graveside, you did your best to hold it together. Watching Father Duncan with the prayer was okay. What got to you was when the twenty-one gun salute was held, Amazing Grace played. When an honor soldier bent down and handed you the folded flag, you lost it. 

You stayed behind and sat in front of his casket. You didn’t have the heart or the strength to say goodbye yet. You placed your hand onto his casket, and lay your head down. You cried your heart out, letting him know how much you loved him. You felt hands on your shoulder. 

“Y/N, it's time, they need to “ You heard Andy say.

“No!” You muttered. 

“Y/N, come on honey.” You heard that soothing voice from your friend Holly. You then gathered all the strength you had left and got up. But as you did, the pain in your heart grew and then your heart left you. 

**

Later in the night, as everyone left, you descended the stairs after placing Chloe to bed. As you did, Andy was waiting for you at the bottom. He had his bag in hand and was looking up towards you. 

“Oh, I thought you were staying for the night?” You asked as you made the final step. 

“I was, but I got a call. I need to leave tonight for a VERY big case.” Andy replied. 

You looked at him and smiled.

“Oh well-“ You said. 

Andy sighed reached for your hand and hugged you.

“Look, I know this is a bad time. But-“

“I know, but it’s okay. Your Mr. Hot Shot Barber. Go on, but can you promise something?” You asked.

“And what’s that?” Andy asked. 

You sighed and swallowed, “Just don’t forget about us? I know your cases take a long time. But our friendship is the only thing left of Ari.” You said. 

“Y/N, you know I wouldn’t. You're my best friend, and I can’t lose that. I don’t know how long that will take but don't worry. Just live your life, live for your daughter and Ari. I know it’s going to hurt and it’s going to be tough. But you are a strong woman and the strongest I’ve known.” 

Once again you burst into tears. Andy is right. It's going to be a tough and long road without Ari. But you are strong. 

You need to live for Ari and your daughter.

The next morning, you were having breakfast with your parents, Holly and some of your family that stayed overnight. It was a rough night. Each time you closed your eyes, Ari would come to you and you would cry. 

There was a knock at the door while you were in the middle of feeding Chloe. Your dad sat up and headed to the door. He opened the door and a familiar voice came through. You looked toward the entranceway from the kitchen to see Sam in his uniform with a box in his hands. Your mom knew what it was and placed her hand on top of yours. 

“Go on honey, I’ll finish up.” 

Your mom said and you sat up. You wiped your hands and followed Sam. You took him out to the front porch and sat down. You watched as Sam placed the box in front of him.

“Hi Sam.” You said quietly, knowing what this was about. 

“I assume you know what this is about,” Sam said as he took his hat off. 

“I have an idea.” You said and Sam sighed. 

“These are most of the things Ari had with him in his apartment in Germany. And before I hand over the things, I need to give you this.” Sam said as he took out a medium-sized leather box and a small leather box. He placed the bigger one down and handed you the small box. You took it and ran your fingertips around it and opened it. Tears came down your face as Ari’s dog tags appeared along with his wedding ring.

“He never wore his ring in combat, and he would always place it with his dog tags. He told me that it was close to his heart.” 

You then placed the little box down and Sam handed you the bigger one. 

“This one is a special one.” Sam paused and opened the box. In the box was a Purple Heart. 

Your heart fell and you burst into tears. 

“In honor of Ari Levinson and on behalf of the President of the United States and the United States Army, we present to you the Purple Heart that would have been given to him had he survived,” Sam said. 

You took the box into your hands and held it close to you. 

Once Sam had left, the front door opened and your parents and Holly came out with Chloe in her arms. Your mom took a seat next to you and you placed your head down on her shoulder. Your mom wrapped her arm around your shoulder and she kissed your forehead.

“Is that his stuff from Germany?” Your dad asked. 

You nodded, without saying anything. 

Later that afternoon, Holly left for the day and your parents took Chloe out so you could spend time for yourself. You sat inside the house, staring at the box in front of you. You have been staring for at least 20 minutes scared to see what’s inside. You didn’t even know what you were afraid of. He never cheated on you and you were sure of that. 

Letting out a long sigh, you reached over with a knife and cut the tape then looked inside. As you did, you took out the books that he read, photo albums, and pictures of his platoon. But as you got to the bottom, there were picture frames. One of when Chloe was only 3 months old, another when you were still in the hospital and holding her right after her birth. Then there was one that caught your eye. It was at the beach in Cape Cod and Sarge was next to you. The sun was about to set and Ari caught that beautiful moment. You knew he took the picture but told you that it was blurry.

**

One Month Later:

You were lucky enough that the preschool that you taught at gave you all the time you needed. You were still grieving, but you couldn’t just stay home, cry, and mope around. Your parents offered to watch Chloe when they could and your neighbors stepped in when you went to work. 

It’s been a whole month since you lost Ari and it’s been a roller coaster of emotions. One day you were fine and smiling. And the next thing you would lay in bed, holding onto Ari’s pillow and his beloved West Point Hoodie. 

But today, you were having a good day. You woke up, went to go take your morning shower, and went to wake up your daughter. Your parents will be here soon and your dad is going to do some maintenance around the house. By the time you got ready, your parents were in the kitchen. As you hit the last step, you noticed a picture frame from the time you and Ari attended the Army Ball in North Carolina. As you looked at it, you smiled to yourself and let out a giggle. 

**

Two Years Ago

After a 3 hour delay from Boston to Atlanta, then from Atlanta to Fayetteville, you finally made it. You got your luggage from the carousel and headed out to the warm North Carolina afternoon. You got a message from Ari that he was on his way and you told him your location. Five minutes later, his big GMC truck appeared and you playfully rolled your eyes. Ari pulled over and placed his car in park. You saw him get out of his car and he was wearing his green shirt, combat boots and pants. You dropped your luggage and Ari scooped you into your arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and showed your husband with kisses. 

“Ari Bear, you stink.” You say as you place one last kiss on his lips and he lowers you down. Ari laughed and he took your luggage. 

“Sorry, I just got out of Humvee,” Ari said as he placed your luggage into the back seat and opened your door. You got in and he closed the door. 

“So is that Amy gal going to be there?” You asked, laughing. 

Ari smiled and let out a giggle, “Amy Ryan? The one that still is trying to flirt with me? Yeah, she will. Why? Are you jealous or something?” Ari asked, looking towards you. You turned and laughed.

“Me jealous? Oh no! But seriously, I just think it’s funny as hell.” You said laughing again, “Plus I trust you, Mr. Levinson.” 

Ari placed his hand on your thigh and you put your hand on top of his. 

“You know I love you more,” Ari said, lifting your hand and kissing it.

“I know and I love you more.” You said. 

After getting some good BBQ, Ari drove to his apartment close to Fort Liberty. You wanted to get some rest before getting ready for tonight. 

**

Your legs bent towards your breasts spread wide open. Ari’s hands gripped his hands on the headboard of the bed. The mattress scraped against the carpet and the wall. One of your arms wrapped around his back and your other grazed your fingertips along his chest hairs.

Ari thrust harder, making his hips slap against you going deeper into you. With each hard thrust, you moaned.

“Fuck- so good baby-“ 

You then felt your body heat up, and that familiar feeling rising in you. You then pressed your heels against his back and made him go in deeper. Your hands gripped the cool thin bed sheets and Ari held onto your hips. He paused for a moment and slammed into you. 

“Come, sweetheart, come for me-“ Ari continued his assault into your dripping pussy. 

Your body exploded and you yelled out in your orgasm. Slowing his pace, you moaned even more as Ari spilled his hot spunk into you, coating and filling you full into your womb. Ari then collapsed on top of you and you held him close to you. 

“God I missed you, angel,” Ari said, laying on his side and pulling you close to him. You wrapped your arms around him and you tangled your legs with his. 

**

 At the Army Ball, which was being held at the Fort Liberty Base, you wandered around the crowd. You recognized some of the officers there and held a simple conversation. You then excused yourself to use the restroom. 

Before you walked out of the stalls, you paused for a minute as you heard a conversation.

“Wow, did you see Ari?! He looks so good! I can't wait to get him!" You heard a girl state.

 "Dude he is handsome, but he's married and you have your BF." You heard the other girl say. 

Then you heard a groan and an annoyed sigh. 

 "Nah, I don't care about him or if Ari is married. I get what I want”. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was the one who kept flirting with Ari. And of course, you giggled. It wasn't until you came back to the table that Amy was there sitting next to Ari, flirting. And that's when you too sat next to your husband and flashed your rings. Amy looked towards you, and shot you a “WTF” look. You smiled and placed your left hand next to your cheek, flashing your engagement and wedding rings.

“Oh, hi. You must be Amy? I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, giving a smile. 

Again Amy looked at you, “Oh really? I haven’t seen you around.” 

Amy gave you a fake smile. Before you could respond, you felt Ari’s hand against yours. 

“Oh, by the way, Amy this is my wife, Mrs. Levinson,” Ari said and you gave your best smile to her. Her hand was still on his thigh and you smiled again.

“Oh, that’s why I haven’t seen you around here,” Amy said, with sparkles in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I live in Boston. And just for future reference, you can keep your hands off my husband's thigh.” You said. 

Amy opened her mouth and closed it. She then removed her hand and sighed. She looked at the both of you, got up, and left the table. 

“You know Mrs. Levinson, you always seem to surprise me,” Ari told you, placing his arm around your shoulders. 

You smiled and turned towards him, “I do, what do you mean by that Mr. Levinson?” 

Ari laughed and leaned in to kiss you. 

“A lot of ladies have come and tried to flirt with me and all have tried to take me away from you. But you never give in. Most ladies I know would think something was up. But you? You just brush it off and laugh.” 

You smiled and leaned against him, “I told you, Ari, I trust you. I don’t need to compete with those girls.”

@jtargaryen18 @hollybee8917 @sarahdonald87 @jamneuromain @princessofdarkwinter

[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 11. Ultraviolence

Previous chapter

Masterlist

Hi there, sorry it took so long for this chapter to be ready, the last couple of weeks have been a little chaotic!

A little soft Nadia and Pietro in this one :)) Things are definitely shifting between these two <3

The shift is particularly evident in Chapter 12

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: Canon-typical violence, soft Pietro & Nadia, Nadia totally isn't in denial, PTSD and trauma, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort.

I awoke to the sound of cries and frantic movement. My body moved faster than my mind, pulling the handgun from beneath my pillow and aiming it into the dark room, I surveyed my surroundings for any sign of danger to find nothing but the very same room I’d gone to sleep in. My eyes fell on Pietro, the moonlight streaming in from the window caused the sweat that beaded on his forehead to glimmer. He was tossing and turning, cries falling from his lips every so often. I lowered the gun immediately.

“Pietro?” I spoke softly into the room. He remained fast asleep.

He was speaking in Sokovian, fear potent in his words. I stood from the couch, saying his name again. He did not react but continued to twist and turn. I made it to the side of the bed when he began thrashing and his voice raised significantly. He sounded absolutely petrified. I pulled myself onto the bed, saying his name several time loudly in an attempt to wake him up but my efforts were fruitless. I watched him thrash for another moment, considering my options. It was when I saw the tears pouring from his shut eyes that I made my decision, laying one hand across his shoulder and the other over his upper arm. My flesh pressed directly onto his.

“Pietro. Wake up.” I brought my hand from his arm to his cheek and repeated my words. His eyelids fluttered and began to open, he lurched upward, terror in his bright blue eyes. I moved with him. My hand that was on his shoulder dropped to grasp his own. “It was just a dream, you’re okay, Pietro. I promise.” His gaze danced across my features frantically. Realizing it was just me as he woke up fully.

“Nadia?”

I nodded, not allowing my mind to wander to thoughts of my hands touching him. “It’s just me, everything’s okay, you just had a bad dream.” He swallowed heavily, looking around the room, there were still tears in his eyes and I could feel the tremble in his body. I took a deep breath, shifting slightly more onto the bed. “Listen to the sounds of the cars outside, do you hear it? It’s faint so you have to listen carefully.” He furrowed his eyebrows at me, but seemed to do as I said, glancing toward the window. “Listen to my voice talking to you. See the way the lights from the buildings leak in through the curtains, how they color the room and prevent it from ever being too dark.” Slowly, he began to lay back down again. I watched him trace a line of light across the ceiling.

“I can hear the cars.” He murmured gently.

“Are there a lot of them?”

“I think so.”

I offered him a warm smile, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the hand that had been resting there. “Where are you?”

“Moscow.” Our eyes remained locked as I sat there with him, hand still intertwined with his. I moved to stand and return to the couch, but his grip tightened, tugging me back toward the bed. “Stay with me… Please.” He dropped my hand, averting his gaze from me as he sunk into the bed, he seemed ashamed. I didn’t want him to feel that way. It was peculiar to me to care if he felt embarrassed, but my chest tightened as I watched him and despite myself, I slipped under the duvet and laid beside the silver-haired man. Shock was evident in his eyes as he looked at me. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

I laid down toward the edge of the bed so that there was a large expanse of space between us. When I looked over at him, I saw his hand resting in the center of the bed, slightly more to his side. I smoothed my hand over the sheets, stopping when my fingertips were so close to his hand that I could almost convince myself I felt the phantom of his touch.

“It’s okay,” I murmured. His face was illuminated by the pale light that streamed in from the windows. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes.” He breathed out. “I used to have them more when I was little, but they stopped for a while before we were taken in by Strucker. I think they were worse after.” His expression was sullen, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth turned downward. I was unused to seeing him so defeated. “When we were being experimented on there were a lot of chemically induced sleeps, for a long time I think there were no dreams at all. I’m not sure which is worse.”

I nodded gently. His words resonated with me more than any I’d ever heard. When I gazed at him then in the dimly lit room, silence bathing us, I was unable to convince myself that he was not devastatingly beautiful. “I don’t know either.”

“You said there was something worse…” I glanced up at him as he spoke. “Earlier, you said you did worse things. What did you mean?”

My eyes closed; my body felt like it was melting under the weight of the memories. I could see it clear as day in my mind. The tears in her eyes, the way she fell to her knees before me begging me for mercy, to let her live, for her family. She had a mother and a father, a man who loved her and she begged me to let her see them again.

“She has betrayed her country, Nadia, she has betrayed all of us.” I could hear his voice in my ear as he circled behind me like a vulture inspecting a corpse. “She is a traitor! This is your chance to prove yourself, show us how strong you’ve become, show us what happens when we live outside our means. Let her be an example. Kill her.”

She wouldn’t stop crying, hands clasped as though she were praying, as though I were some God or Deity that could grant her clemency. We were in the training room, not in our suits or ready for the field, she wasn’t even armed. “Nadia, please I beg of you, don’t do it.” I was 15 and she was 18; brought to the Red Room when she was 10 years old. Natasha was gone and outside of Yelena the girl before me was the only other person I’d ever trusted. I did not know what it was to have a mother, only what I’d heard people on the outside say or what I’d read in books. Yet, despite my limited understanding, she seemed comparable to it. There were girls gathered around us, watching in silence as I aimed the gun at her head. I wondered what they thought, what they saw. For me, everything was red. I’d killed people before, multiple. All I had to do was shoot her in the head, it was simple compared to other missions given to me. However, as she wept and begged for her life, her brown eyes melting into wide blobs filled with fear, my hand faltered. My throat felt tight, and my eyes were stinging. I felt my cheek become wet as a warm liquid streamed down it. I narrowed my eyes at the girl, tightening my grip on the gun and planting my feet. Others had begged for their lives, others had prayed for mercy this was not any different, so why did my body feel so heavy?

I felt Dreykov move one of my plaited piggy tails over my shoulder, pressing his finger to the bottom of my wrist, lifting the gun to aim at her head once more. “This is what you were born for, my Nadia, this is your purpose. To eliminate those who threaten the correct order of things. So, eliminate her.”

And I did.

Her cries were silenced by the loud pop. I did not flinch, only watched her body crumple to the floor lifelessly, blood pooling around her dark curls.

“Her name was Oksana. She was my friend.” I told Pietro. He’d been silent throughout my recount, continuing to stare up at the ceiling as I bared myself to him. Trembling, cold, monstrous as I was. “She had defected to the Americans and was giving them intel on the Red Room. She was trying to save us.”

“Did you know that, when you killed her?”

I realized then that the edge of the silky, white pillowcase had been grasped tightly in my hand the whole time I’d been speaking. “I knew she had defected, but not why. It doesn’t really matter though. Even if I knew, I still would have killed her. Because he told me to, and all I knew was to obey.”

“Exactly.” He turned to face me then, propping his head up on his arm. “It was all you knew. They forced you to do it. That is now who you are, and it is not your purpose.”

“Do not defend me, Pietro. I do not deserve it.”

He shook his head at me, sitting upright suddenly. “If that is who you are why did you defect? Why did you become an Avenger? Why do you torture yourself for it even now, all these years later?”

“I do not torture myself.” I retorted with a sigh.

He chuckled, his head falling backward exposing his throat. When he gazed lazily at me a smile spread across his lips. “Are you incapable of not arguing with me?”

His eyes sparkled in the pale moonlight. I attempted to fight the smile that threatened to spread across my lips, but my efforts were futile. “Only because you’re so annoying.”

“Is that what I do to you?” I raised an eyebrow at his tone. “Annoy you?”

I hummed. “Obviously.” His body heat radiated onto me. It occurred to me then just how close we were. In that moment we were practically breathing the same air. “Pietro…”

“Nadia…”

His eyes dipped dangerously, gazing over my lips. Before I even knew what I was doing my own eyes trailed over his stubbled cheek, landing on his plump lips. My eyes fluttered slightly, and I swallowed heavily. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He murmured.

Like the thought of looking at anything else ever again was so immensely devastating he almost couldn’t bear it. What I couldn’t bear, was the fact that even when he was this close to me, bathing me in his heat and the smell of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, I wanted him closer. This was not right, it did not make sense to me.

I blinked, breaking the trance forcefully. “We have a big day tomorrow; we should get some sleep.”

He was silent for a long moment before he nodded gently, settling back into the cushions. “Goodnight.” He murmured.

“Goodnight.” I turned away from him, laying on my side facing the window at the very edge of the bed.

The sunlight streamed into the room, painting intricate patterns of warmth on my skin. I stretched my muscles, eyes still closed. My hand danced across the surface it rested on, smooth, warm… flesh. I popped an eye open to see my hand laid over Pietro’s bare chest, his steady heartbeat thumping beneath it. My own heart rate spiked at the position, I pulled my hand back quickly, curling up into myself. “You can touch me you know?” His voice was deeper than normal, husky with sleep. I held my breath, waiting for him to continue. His eyes opened, dancing across my features. “If you want to. You can.”

His hand smoothed over the sheets between us, slowly drawing closer to me. I watched its path, seeing it stop before it actually reached me. My own hand twitched; I wondered if his hand was warm. It was when I held it last night. My fingers inched toward his for a moment, he watched every movement carefully. Just before my hand reached his I lurched out of the bed, turning my back to his and quickly beginning to dig through my suitcase.

“We need to get up, we’re going to the factory today and we need to go over our cover before we meet Vasiliev and Rostokov.”

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face before watching me dash into the bathroom to change.

…

“We’re high school sweethearts,” Pietro spoke in his superb American accent. I nodded along, gazing at him with a moony-eyed expression. “Although Naomi had a massive crush on me before we got together.” Our eyes met and I hoped he could read the warning in mine. “Yeah, she just wouldn’t admit it to herself, so stubborn, but just as pretty.” He tapped my nose. I was sure he read me loud and clear now; later Pietro, later, you will regret that.

Rostokov and Vasiliev stood in front of us in the elevator. The former sent me a disquieting smile over his shoulder. They had finally brought us to the farm, though, it was really more a factory. A stone’s throw out of Moscow, fronting as a pharmaceutical manufacturer. The inside was sleek and mostly metallic, concrete floors that seems as though they’d been scrubbed clean recently.

We passed a series of rooms as Rostokov and Vasiliev lead us further into the compound. Many had windows tinted so dark it was practically impossible to see what went on inside, I shivered at the possibility. A door opened to my left catching my attention as a man in a black coat exited what appeared to be a laboratory.

I hummed in response. “Well, how could I not have a crush on this guy?” His grin doubled in size as he watched me, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. I refused to get lost in them as I wrapped my arm around him, pinching him sharply. He flinched when both men before us were turned away. His sharp glare melted into an adoring look when we entered a new room. It was an office, similar in style to the rest of the building, adorned in black, white, and silver. The sound of a phone buzzing loudly filled the room just as Vasiliev gestured for Pietro and I’d to take a seat. He glanced down at his phone before pressing it to his chest and giving me a sheepish look.

“It’s my business partner.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure you can call him back later.”

He shook his head at me. “I’m sorry, you know how they are.”

I huffed in feigned dismay. “Really, James, can’t it wait?” Pietro shook his head again, his expression turning solemn. Both Vasiliev and Rostokov watched carefully from the sidelines. I lowered my voice as I spoke again, acting as though I was intending this to be a private moment. “We spoke about this; you said you were going to be ignoring work calls this weekend.”

“Naomi, really it’s just a call, I won’t be long.”

“It’s not the amount of time, James it’s the principle!” I whisper-shouted, hands on my hips. Pietro’s eyes roved over me for a moment. “This is important.”

He sighed exasperatedly. “I understand that honey and just as soon as this call is over, you’ll have my undivided attention again. I’m sure you can handle being on your own for a little while.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to my cheek. My heart rate picked up, no matter how much I cursed the damned muscle, deeming it traitorous and completely overdramatic. “One call and I’ll be back, be careful.” He whispered softly in my ear, to onlookers it would just look like a husband attempting to appease his wife, given that his words were too quiet for anyone but me to hear. “I apologize, gentlemen but I have to take this call, I’m just going to step outside, and I’ll be back the very moment it’s dealt with.”

It was all for show, Naomi and James Wharton were not a particularly happy couple, they were showy and liked to present a perfect image to the public. However, in reality, James is a workaholic who enjoys the company of any woman who isn’t his wife and Naomi is the puppeteer running the show. The one behind the business decisions and the one who crafts their public personas. Pietro was not taking a business call; he was going to send the location to the compound so they could forward it to authorities. I’d distract Rostokov and Vasiliev until he came back and then we would incapacitate them and steal a sample of the illicit substance for testing; simple.

“Well shall we begin, and you can catch James up when he returns?” Vasiliev asked, gesturing for me to sit in one of the armchairs in front of the large glass desk.

I nodded gratefully, taking a seat and facing him. Anatoly stood at his side, watching me intently. Tony and Nick Fury had briefed us on the business negotiations before we’d left New York. I’d even had a few days to study the real Naomi Wharton whilst she was in custody. The role was not particularly challenging, nor was the objective of the mission. However, as I sat there in that office, Vasiliev speaking about distribution and further sponsorship I felt as though I were missing something. A crucial piece of the puzzle that had yet to reveal itself to me. I listened carefully and avoided the gaze of the man beside him. When the man in the black coat from earlier entered the office and spoke in a hushed tone to Vasiliev from earlier that feeling of unease grew tenfold.

“My sincerest apologies for the interruption Mrs. Wharton, this shall only take a short while. With any luck by the time I return, Mr. Wharton will also be back, and we can move forward.” I smiled amenably and told him not to worry as he stepped out. Only Rostokov and I remained in the room and the moment I turned around he was before me, prowling like a predator stalking prey. Without betraying the discomfort that rattled through me I offered him a polite smile. The tall man took a seat in the chair beside mine, watching me but not uttering a single word. I stared back at him, studying, assessing, and waiting for his first move. He did not frighten me, but there was something deeply unsettling about him.

“I greatly admire you, Naomi.” His knee grazed my thigh as he spoke. “You strike me as someone with a business mindset. In my opinion, business should come above all else.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He hummed, leering at my, the look had my skin crawling. “You see, in business partners, Mr. Vasiliev and I are looking for people who go the extra mile.” His hand was on my knee now and my body was tensed so completely that it almost hurt. Bile rose in my throat as the feeling of his sticky fingers pressing into the flesh around my joint. “People who would do anything for the business.” His hand rose on my leg, I tried not to glare at it. When he rose to his feet and his hand left me, I barely had time to feel relief before it was on me again. My shoulders this time, both his hands. Rage simmered low in my belly at his gall, for a moment I was in the Red Room again, Dreykov’s hands on me as he lifted my hand to aim the gun at Oksana’s head, his breath on my ear. I wanted to hurt him, more than anything I wanted to watch his face shrivel as the agony overtook them. Rostokov and Dreykov both. My fist clenched so tightly at my side I’d be surprised if I hadn’t drawn blood. With a shaky exhale I anchored myself, my anger. If I blew my cover the factory would go into lockdown. I didn’t know where Pietro was, but I knew he was still here, I wouldn’t risk him getting stuck here or shot because I could not control my temper. I closed my eyes momentarily, ignoring his hand sweeping around my collarbone. “Is that you, Naomi? Are you willing to go the extra mile?” When his fingers undid the button on my blouse and attempted to delve beneath, I lost the battle with my temper and snapped. Though, before I had the chance to get my hands on him, his touch was gone. I turned to see a familiar silver-haired man slamming Rostokov against the wall, before dragging him out to the ledge and dangling him over it.

“Don’t ever lay a fucking hand on her again.” The American accent was long gone and by the look in Rostokov’s eyes, our cover was more than blown. I muttered a curse under my breath as I looked around, within seconds a gun was cocking and Vasiliev appeared, aiming it at my head.

“If you’d be so kind as to put my business partner down.” He spoke glancing at Pietro momentarily. Rostokov was grasping at his arms frantically. “Who the fuck are you people?!”

I raised my hands in mock surrender. “We’re the Wharton’s silly.” I taunted, not bothering to continue the accent, our cover evidently blown already.

“Are you a spy?” Vasiliev asked, stepping closer to me.

“More of a freelancer these days.” I shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Tell your boyfriend to put my partner down or I’m going to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.” Pietro faltered at that, glancing back momentarily,

“No,” I spoke, nonchalant, keeping my eyes on Rostokov. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to shoot me, because he needs to know who we’ve told anyone about his little business endeavor and whether he has time to close shop before they arrive… and my ‘boyfriend’ is not going to say a word if there’s a bullet between my pretty eyes.”

I could see Vasiliev’s jaw clenching at that. “You little bitch, who have you told?” He took another step toward me, taking the safety off.

“Today?”

He sneered at me. “I am not fucking around! Did you tell someone about the farm?” I smiled at him, and he cocked the gun. “Stop wasting time and answer the fucking question!”

“Oh, I’m not wasting time, I’m just stalling so I can come up with a plan.” Before he could pull the trigger, I was on him, grabbing his wrist and pushing it upward causing him to fire straight into the air. Disarming him was my easiest task yet, and he was unconscious with a broken arm in likely dislocated shoulder in a matter of moments. I heard a commotion behind me and when I turned around Pietro was dragging an unconscious Rostokov by his feet. “Tie him up and find us a way out, I’ll get the sample,” I spoke quickly.

Pietro nodded. “Oh, and by the way, that whole thing was very cool.” A loud siren began to emit through the speakers in the factory. The sound of boots bounding toward the main room had me gritting my teeth and giving Pietro a firm look before turning toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. We needed to get the hell out of here, but I wasn’t leaving without that sample. I moved toward the lab quickly, silent on my feet as I avoided the sounds of voices.

There were two guards checking the corridor when I glanced around the corner. I pressed myself flat to the wall, listening as their footsteps grew closer. When they were about to enter my path I lunged, ducking quickly under the first one’s arm and hitting his arm, causing him to accidentally shoot the second guard. When one was down, I swept the first man’s feet from beneath him, slamming the base of his weapon into his head to render him unconscious. The lab was empty when I entered, crossing the space in a moment to secure the case. I did not need to turn to be aware that I was no longer alone in the room.

“Oh, for the love of God, will you just fuck off?” I swiveled to see Rostokov sneering at me from the doorway, blood trickling from his nose.

“You’re friend hits like a little bitch.” I raised an eyebrow at his words, assessing the severe damage on the man’s face, I liked to think I taught him that. Anatoly pulled a gun from beneath his jacket, aiming it at me.

I sighed exasperatedly. “What is it with the guns from a distance huh? What? Worried you can’t take a girl without a weapon?”

“I know you.” He spoke, the corners of his lips turning upwards, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Did you know that?”

“Is this a riddle or something?”

 He smiled at me. “You don’t remember me do you little bird?” I narrowed my eyes at him, confusion spreading through me as my wind whirred attempting to place his face. “Well, I suppose I cannot blame you; I looked a little different back then. So did you, but I’d know you anywhere.”

“This is getting awfully boring, are you going to tell me why you seem to believe we’re acquainted.” I didn’t let my voice betray how shaken I was by his words.

He laughed, it was loud and jarring, sharp teeth showing as his mouth opened. “Always so much bite for such a small thing.” It was then, right then when he spoke those words that I remembered him. Not his face, but his voice, his laugh, those words. The loud booming laugh was one of the sounds that haunted my dreams every night.

So much bite, for such a small thing.

I was 5 years old the first time they did it, they did it again a month later. I stood in a small dingy room, with blank slate-colored walls, a bed in the corner that matched. A man stood before me with a revolver pointed at my head, I cried, and I begged him to stop, to let me go. I begged him not to kill me, but none of my tearful pleas seemed to so much as move him. It was as though he couldn’t hear me, and then he pulled the trigger. I will never forget that loud click that bounced off the walls, an empty barrel, I was alive. I watched him put the bullet in every time, he’d take out the set, showing me the special one that he called his favorite, he’d put it into the magazine and point the gun at my head. He pulled the trigger again and again, month after month until I stopped flinching. Then, and only then, did it stop. I had not realized until I was well into my teenage years that he knew the bullet was never in the barrel, it was psychological torture to break us. To make us soldiers and nothing but.

“Obolensky.” I muttered.

[cherries-in-wine]

For some reason Tumblr won't let me edit this but another thing I'd like to add is the song writing just didn't do it for me. I genuinely think that Taylor is capable of writing beautiful lyrics and i wouldn't be so critical of ttpd if she hadn't said it's her most lyrical album. She's a great story teller even while using simple words taking folklore and Evermore for example: "all these people think our love's for show but I would die for you in secret" "I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere" "now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon" "don't want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do" the entire bridge of cardigan. She uses more complex words pretty well too like how illicit affairs uses clandestine and champagne problems uses crestfallen perfectly. The thing is these words feel really natural when used in folklore and evermore but ttpd feels like a pretentious kid who thinks mental asylums are an aesthetic.

A (not so) quick comparison as to what I thought ttpd would be like vs how it actually was:

In my tears ricochet (i love that song so much) Taylor sings "if I'm dead to you then why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed, look at how my tears ricochet" the use of ricochet is perfect, the tears that she cried are reflecting back as bullets and hitting the people that hurt her. Here she says "and you can aim for my heart go for blood, but you'll still miss me in your bones" here "miss me" has two meanings, that the person who's aiming for heart will miss it because there's still lingering affection or maybe they're just a coward and "miss me in your bones" also means that even though they act indifferent, they're still gonna miss her when they kill her.

In but daddy i love him, Taylor says "Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see" the rhyme is so awkward, and it just doesn't make sense in the context of the song. Sanctimoniously means making a show of being morally superior and soliloquies is essential just talking to yourself. "He was chaos, he was revelry, bedroom eyes like a remedy" maybe i wouldn't hate this so much if it was about anyone other than Matty Healy but again I just expected more from Taylor.

I don't think ttpd represents female rage either, mad woman from folklore alone was more female rage coded than the entire album.

I think swifties are justified in feeling so protective of Taylor after all the kim and Kanye shit went down and people are also justified in disliking Taylor for romanticising asylums, all her carbon emissions, not speaking up for Palestine and her dating Ratty Healy. I also think it's unfair to call everyone that criticizes Taylor someone who just hates successful women. She's done some problematic shit that does deserve criticism. But i think it's also true that some people's reasoning for hating Taylor is unfair and unjustified like how only teenage girls listen to her (not true at all) or she's a bad writer. Let's just stop shaming teenage girls for their interests and let's listen to something other than shake it off before calling her a bad writer.

About Taylor not speaking up for Palestine, I did not say that it makes her a Zionist, but the thing is that she isn't just some billionaire, she's person of the year and a really influential figure that holds a lot of power so her choosing to stay silent is very disappointing.

That's all I've got for now I'll probably add more things later. These are just my thoughts so feel free to disagree but please be respectful about it <3

[taylor-swift-bracket]

🎇Please reblog!🎇

Comment your favorite bridges!

Notable Bridges

(Under the cut)

evermore

champagne problems

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's f*cked in the head," they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

ivy

So yeah, it's a fire

It's a violent blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the fiercest fight of my life

And you started it

You started it

tolerate it

While you were out buildin' other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm beggin' for footnotes in the story of your life

Drawin' hearts in the byline

Always takin' up too much space or time

You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I

marjorie

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

right where you left me

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

And you're sitting in front of me

Midnights

Hits Different

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

God rest my soul

I miss who I used to be

The tomb won't close

Stained glass windows in my mind

I regret you all the time

I can't let this go

I fight with you in my sleep

The wound won't close

I keep on waiting for a sign

I regret you all the time

You’re Losing Me

How long could we be a sad song

'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party (You're losin' me)

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

And I'm fadin', thinkin'

"Do something, babe, say something" (Say something)

"Lose something, babe, risk something" (You're losin' me)

"Choose something, babe, I got nothing" (I got nothing)

"To believe, unless you're choosin' me"

You’re On Your Own Kid

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

I hosted parties and starved my body

Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money

My friends from home don't know what to say

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned

Everything you lose is a step you take

So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it

You've got no reason to be afraid

Anti-Hero

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from Hell"

[pastel-omegas-blog]

oH- shit ye ye i remember him getting mc that red meat and it's nice that hybrid MC's family kinda cares for him and yeah bullying deffo sucks

Oh! And hmm let's say basically everyone that would go yandere for mc in the hybrid au went already...well yandere for him how would they show their jealous and how would they act?

Btw I'm June! If you remember me on Quotev lol ^^;;

Oh ~ time to introduce one of the love intrests. Ah sorry for not remembering

LEON

Jealous little fucker.

In school people think he's just helping the sheep so it's easy for him to be seen with mc without any backlash.

Infact if anything it boosts his popularity so he can easily get away with been loving to his love.

But because he has an image to uphold he can't just outright show his hatred for the person.

So he's just leaving his scent all over M/N, trying to keep him for extra study lessons. He's always trying to keep him to himself.

M/N is HIS.

And he's not sharing him with anyone! Still he's not going to be irrational and act out.

However, this doesn't stop him from spreading false rumours about a person, but if you know Leon by now this won't be enough for him.

No no no no~ if the Love interest is weaker than him in noble status and power he's getting rid of them.

Might even feed them to Mc if they irked him bad enough.

Will murder to get them out of his way and honestly him killing a rival or any other contender off is much merciful than if he keeps them alive.

The gods forbid he decides to toy with you alive.

Like his OG self, despite his kind facade he lacks morals, is not against hurting family members of theirs to prove a point.

But if they have a higher standing and are more power than him the lop bunny finds himself being obedient and threading carefully.

He hates it,but he knows when he has to bow his head.

If this happens to be the case well....

He's not against marking M/N. Filling him up with cute little kits.

Whether his little lamb wants it or not~

W...wait! Sir Evermore! S..stop please " M/N cried out as he was pushed down to cold tiled floor.

 His ears were pinned down as his e/c eyes widen in fear and confusion behind the locks of h/c hair hiding them.

 He didn't understand what was going on.

 One minute he was following Leon to the green house because the other had offered to help him with the flowers and the next the lop rabbit had pushed him down to the tiled ground once the doors were closed, unbuttoning his coat and trying to pull the fabric off the sheep hybrid.

 The wild look in his purple eyes reminded the h/c man of a rabid dog.

A Predator.

And he was prey.

 His mind went back to the red meat the blue haired omega had been feeding him.

 Was he going to be turned into red meat ?

 Had Leon grown tired of him already ?

 Was he that worthless now that he could only be served as food to predators ?

 His heart shattered at the thought as tears welled up in his eyes as he pathetically struggled against the larger omega.

 Did the other really not love him like he said he did ?

 A loud sob was ripped out of his plump lips as Leon pulled off the school coat revealing his body and most importantly his neck to the larger omega.

The sheep's kicking got more frantic, his mind going into flight mood, ignoring the cooing sounds of the larger omega trying to comfort him. Suddenly his senses where pushed into overdrive as his sensitive nose was forced to endure an onslaught of the larger omega's scent of strawberries and vanilla clogging his mind.

Cute~ " the rabbit hybrid purred out as he stared as the smaller man under him, enjoying the sounds of panic and confusion leaving his lips.

 He always like the dumbs ones.

Using the smaller omega's confused state to his advantage Leon adjusted his position, pushing a knee to spread the other's legs wool covered legs apart and holding his wrists to keep him in place, a slurred whine was what he got in response.

 Using his free hand Leon unbuttoned the other's collar, exposing the s/c man's pretty neck and scent patches around his scent glands blocking the sweet scent of warm  honey and ripe peaches ( the one that had been driving him crazy ever since he caught a whiff of it by an accident  ).

  Narrowing his eyes and clicking his tongue in annoyance, the rabbit hybrid used his free hand to peel away the offending material, letting out an animalistic growl as he basked in the sweetness of the other's scent.

Not wasting time the blue haired man lowered his face to the other's neck, licking the soft patch of skin, a soft groan leaving his lips at the sweet taste that coated his tongue, his cock getting hard and straining in his trousers at the moan that left the sheep's lips.

 He could ravage him later.

He paid no mind to his arousal focusing on the task he had at hand.

Using his free, Leon brushed away the hair covering his beautiful eyes " I'm sorry N/N..." the smaller omega still disoriented from the over flow of pheromones still somehow managed to perk up a bit at the nickname.

"... This is going to hurt a bit, but it's for the best ..... " The larger omega cooed out , opening his mouth to reveal tiny full fangs

The e/c man tried to make out the blurry images and the words he was hearing.

The functioning part of him didn't understand how Leon, a lop bunny-

A prey!

Could have so much power over him.

Prey was weak and couldn't fight back.

Then what was Leon-

" AH! " A high pitched pained scream forced it's way out of M/N's lungs, his body writhing around as he tried to push away the larger omega from him, but the rabbit wasn't budging.

The full ache of dull fangs digging into the soft flesh of his neck, he could feel the warm blood spilling down his neck, the hot white pain making tears run down his cheeks as blubbering nonsense left his lips.

Leon simply held him down as he forced his fangs to go through faster, hating how he was causing his lamb pain, but after a few more agonizing seconds it went through.

The mating mark was done.

Leon pulled away, ruby red droplets spilling down his chin as a few smeared across his thin peach lips. Purple eyes stared at the pretty bleeding mess underneath him.

His soft whimpers, his soft fuzzy ears pinned to the side of his face, his small brown horns shining in the gleam of the setting sun,his pearl like tears, the small droplets of blood spilling out of the two puncture wounds on his neck his scent had already started mingling with how own in a sweet scenting symphony.

He was his.

M/N was his now!

A crazed laugh left the rabbit's lips as the realization set in.

" Your mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine ​​Mine . Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine!   Now does bastards can't take you away from me " he said, licking away the blood coated around his lips, the taste making his heart hammer away in his chest.

It took a while for his high to calm down, but when it did Leon finally regained himself.

Acting like a barbarian was unbecoming of a student council member like him. Taking a deep breath the larger omega gently picked up his mate, the poor man had passed out, but Leon didn't mind.

He would heal his cute little omega all up~

Evian

Say hello to a new love intrest.

Evian von Merridew 

Even though this world has majority of the population being hybrids there are still other mythical beings, like Orcs, elves, goblin, dragons etc. The dragons and other full monster species that have a humanoid forms.

Evian is one of these species, a siren to be more specific.

SIREN~ ( this is my own explanation for the creatures in my universe )

They are all extraordinarily beautiful and have varying body build, but the most common are, mesomorph, Tall, slender, hourglass and muscular. ' chubby sirens are of course seen, but because of their species beauty standards they try to starve them selves to 'fit in' which is wrong, but sadly not enough light is being put on the matter. With their extraordinary beauty, being prideful is a normal thing and are viewed by society as the, epitome of beauty, along with some hybrid species, Vampires, elves, fairies, succubi  and other mythics, some hybrids also fall into this category.

Leon's beauty is on par with Evian

They have feline like eyes almost seem to glow in the day time which is more noticable in the dark and like the old tales humans used to tell in days of old, they have beautiful enchanting voices that lure others into a state of hypnosis, the older the siren the more experienced they are in using their voice to get what they want, but laws prevent them from doing as they please as abusing their power can get them punished. They have mild regeneration abilities and can heal small cuts and broken bones fairly quickly, but loss of a limb or an organ will not be replaced ( They can with the help of månå infused surgery ) and enhanced strength ( can lift things twice their body size, this can grow if the individual decides to hone and train themselves on it ). They age slowly as well and once they reach a certain age they stop physically ageing and can keep living  for over millenniums , the oldest age a siren has ever reached is currently unknown to other species.

They have three forms of physical transformation transformation

The first is their 'Marrow' form   

This is just a human form,  but their scales can still be seen on the side of their necks, arms and thighs. Their canine tooth are fang like and their finger nails are like claws and the tips of their ears are pointed like that of elves. They are most commonly seen in this form.

Have excellent vision great sense of smell, enhanced strength and are agile on their feet.

The second form they have is their  'Pure' form.

This is their birth form, and the form they change too when they are in a large body of water.  Their legs merge back together to form a beautiful scaly  tail, their fingers become webbed, the gills on their necks that had been formally closed reopen so they don't need to resurface all that often for air and more scales appear on their upper torsoe and face. Now instead of just their canines all of their teeth are now shark like and razor sharp.

Then their final form is the berserker transformation. 

*Note: not every species has a berserker mode *

In this form they lose their beautiful faces and become hulking masses of scaly bodies, their scales becoming tougher than steel and their bodies grow drastically in size. Ranging from twenty to sixty meteres in height. Their mouths are filled with rows of razor sharp teeth that become to big to stay in there mouths and end up peeking out of their lips, adding to their already terrifying appearance, their eyes grow bigger in size and the slits become tas thin as a line. Strange marking patterns appear on their bodies and begin glow ( each individual has different patterns unique to them. Like finger prints ). No matter what ' Do not approach at all '. In this state they lose all thoughts of rational thinking and will attack any that moves with no other intention  than to kill. And death by this creatures is not a good way to die. Though this rarely happens as they pride themselves in self control so full berserker transformation is never fully reached ( unless someone fucked the hell up ) and the punishment for doing can lead to capital punishment, and the punishments can be harsh ( I.e removal of fins, forcing one to stay in their Marrow form for the rest of their life ). They have a pre-berserker form which is the one they usually resort to when they start their violent spree. It's similar to their pure form, except now they've grown in size ( from 16 to 30 feet long ) their scales, becoming more jagged and pointed and their mouths are with filled with the same shark like teeth peaking out of their lips. They have the same patterns glowing on their skin that does a great job at making them look ethereal yet at the same time fucking terrifying. Their sense are increased by a tenfold, meaning they are faster, stronger, healed quicker, perfect hearing. Escaping from them would be near impossible in the water.

BIRTH: 

Sirens have two ways of giving birth. The first is Marrow Carrying. 

Marrow Carrying ( Humanoid birth ): this is the ' normal ' birth, where the siren parent gives birth to their pup through  labour.  Can have from one to six pups per litter and pregnancy in this form is six months

Hatchling:

In their pure form the omega and alpha mate.  On their tails their where the pelvic area is located, there  is a slit, where their sex organ is hidden. ( The penis, vagina and since female alpha's have penises hidden inside vagina comes out when erect in their Marrow form, but both are visible and are separate instead of one being in the other. This is reverse for male omegas, since they have wombs there's a small opening below their penises , where they can be impregnated. After the mating is done the carrying parent waits for a few weeks to ensure that an egg or eggs have been fertilized, then they can carefully release it from their wombs, the egg is about the size of a golf ball , it's colour is pure white, but one can see the outline of the pup growing, once this is done, the parent guards the egg protectively, usually they transform into their pre-berserker form to scare off any threats as they guard over the growing egg, not even going to look for food. After seven months the egg shell has become weak and translucent, showing the pup that has formed healthy and the baby breaks free from it's gooey shell prison been born. 

The Hatching process takes to much energy and time and the whole process happens in the deepest parts of the sea, with the starving of one parent and survival rate of the pup being really low because one parent can't continuously watch the egg,  letting sneaky predators have a free meal, so majority prefer the ' Marrow method '.

Cute note: siren babies are called 'Guppies'

Inter breeding with these species is only possible with Vampires, elves, fairies, a few animal hybrids and humans.

Alphas and omegas are mostly born into these species, with very few betas. Sirens prefer the more traditional partber role ( Alpha x omega) So in the  Siren hierarchy beta's are at the bottom of the power scale.

                       Dominant Alpha

                       Dominant Omega

                       Recessive Alpha

                       Recessive Omega

                              Beta

They have no influence and are not the strongest when in comes to hunting and their chances of been fertile enough to carry children are really low, since most miscarriages happen to beta female who have a forty five percent chance of carrying a pup full term without any complications. 

Beta's are easy to tell apart, while pretty their beauty can't hold a candle to their alpha and Omega counterparts, and their scales even though they glimmer in the sun rays are usually dull in colour.

Are omnivores, but majority of their diet is meat, and they have a taste for land animals more than seafood.  As sophisticated as they look and act, they have the most count of cannibalism in their species, though it has died down with the increasing age of technology and modern world thinking.

Sirens are seen as a mythical species so they are refered to as mythic's ( same goes to other mythical species )

 The image is his face claim, but I'll explain more to give sight on his siren looks.

Pale porcelain skin that resembles that of a doll. Golden coloured scales with aqua marine decorate the side of his face, arms, rib cage and thighs.

His eyes are three colours the outer part of the iris being gold, the inner is aquamarine and the center being silver. Thin red glossy lips that's always pulled usually in a straight line.

Is a recessive omega, but is Pretty than a lot of dominant omegas in his empire.

Scent is cherries and lime

Other than having pretty privilege and damn plot armour he's born into a Grand duchy.

The Merridew Grand duchy is one of the founding families of the Empire and are on par with the Vermillion grand duchy and the L/N ducal family.

He knows M/N since they had play dates arranged between them as children.

He honestly had no interest in the sheep hybrid as they were growing up.

He's a siren so he technically he's a predator.

He's strong. He's even stronger than most since he's a prodigy.

The very best of the best.

He has no need to make friend with weak  prey.

That doesn't automatically mean he gets along with Marrav.

He detest the lion hybrid as well, the alpha is to cocky and annoying.

That's how the relationship between the two is just going to be at first. Two people who were forced to have play dates together as children and grew apart as they got older

Has an aloof personality and doesn't really care much for things he deems as a waste of his time. 

Tied with Leon as being one of the prettiest omegas in school.

Has a fanclub, but cult would be the right word with how they all religious worship him. He doesn't pay them much attention but it does boost his ego.

Also having minions ready to do his every bidding makes getting materials he needs for things a whole lot easier.

As a siren he has a soft enchanting voice they make people focus their attention on him and listen to his every word without protest.

Evian is a member of the student council and he's the head of the månå/ månå life studies and potions department. He's a prodigy at månå manipulation yes, but he prefers creating potions since it makes things a lot easier.

This potion making is what builds a road for him and M/N to interact.

He needs a particular ingredient for an elixir he's working on. A very rare red rose with gold tips.

And he can't find the damned thing anywhere.

Not even the black market, it's understandable because it takes good portion of ten years for the flower to bloom and during those years one has to constantly check and make sure it's receiving the right proportions of sun light, water and special månå fertilizer. Any small mistake would kill the flower and all progress and money would be gone for nothing.

He just didn't think that people would completely abandoned it! 

He has his minions working day and night to find it and after three months they do. it's been right under their noses the whole time.

The schools resident outcast has been growing them by himself in one of the academy's many abandoned green house.

He had paid a dark guild so much money for something under his nose.

The siren would be pissed off at first, but he'll brush it off. Since it's the pushover sheep that has one it'll be easy to collect it without spending anymore money.

Or so he thought.

Firstly finding the sheep hybrid is a surprisingly hard thing. The smaller omega is good at keeping himself hidden and is never in one place for long so it takes at least two weeks to track him down.

When Evian has finally managed to corner him the sheep hybrid refuses to give him one.

That blond can't forcefully take it, because M/N's family is the one backing him up for the project and he knows first hand how protect they can be, so he tries to buy it.

The sheep still have refuses and it takes a lot for him to not lunge and growl at the smaller man for being so stubborn.

M/N understandably won't just give away something that took his sweet and blood to grow so easily, especially since he only managed to successfully grow only fifteen, but Evian is at his wits end.

' " I thought we were friends. Friends help each other that's why I came to you " the blond said as he stared down at the smaller man with frustrated eyes.  His nails had started digging into the soft skin of his palm as a last ditch effort to calm his nerves down so he wouldn't attack the prey in anger.

He hated how he had stooped so low to this. Begging this inferior thing for something and he had the audacity to deny him of it.

What made things worse was he couldn't get a good grasp on the omega's expression because of his hair was covering his eyes. He was sure the bastard had a smug look on his fa-

" W... we're f.. friends ? " The question and hesitant voice made Evian's snap out of his thoughts.

Multicolored eyes watched how the smaller omega fidgeted in the spot he was standing, his fluffy wool ears twicthing slightly in nervousness as he nervously played with his fingers.

' oh ? '

" Of course we're friends! " The taller omega insisted suddenly moving forward to grasp the other's hand catching the sheep of guard.

" I know I've been really busy and haven't hanged out that much, but I really mean it when I say your my friend. We've been friends since we were guppies and kids haven't we ? " The blond man asked giving the sheep a pitiful look.

" Y...yes we h..have " the h/c man agreed wincing slightly when the other tightened his grip. " So you'll help me right ? " The omega said, leaning in closer, a red lips stretching into a small smile when the h)c  sheep hybrid nodded his head. 

" Thank you M/N your such a good friend " '

And just like that without wasting money he Even gets what he wants and one would think that's where their interaction will end.

Not. In fact it sort of becomes a game for him. How much can he take from the sheep omega by calling him his friend.

He obviously has no real interest in the smaller omega, he just wants to see how he can play him or just how much the other will bend to his whims for the sake of the ' friendship ' between them. And the siren soon finds out the he will do a lot.

From giving him precious herbs for free to being a lab rat for his potions and elixirs to even.

" The blond shoved his tongue deeper down the smaller omega throat, wanting to get more of his sweetness on his taste buds, his hands busied themselves on the other's body. One rubbing soothing circles on hips while the squeezed the soft flesh of his ass  occasionally pulling on his fluffy tail.

Ignoring the hands lightly tapping on his chest Evian continued to indulge himself, he only pulled away when the man started to go limp on his laps.

The siren stared at his cute little ' friend ' who was pitifully gasping for air. The h/c bangs that usually covered his eyes has been pulled back to reveal pretty e/c hues, a deep red blush dusting his s/c cheeks.

His plump lips were glossy from both their saliva being mixed together and slightly swollen from the bruising kisses he had been subjected to earlier.

His ears were pinned down by the side of his head giving him an even more submissive and timid look, the collar of his shirt and a few buttons had come undone, revealing the blooming hickeys and bite marks that decorated his neck and collarbone, the sweet scent flooding of him in waves and mixing with his own of cherry and lime.

The larger omega could feel the poor sheep's his hard cock pressing against his stomach struggling in his pants.

Evian hadn't meant for things to get this heated, but recently he had noticed the h/c sheep hybrid spending more time with that annoying lop rabbit and hadn't even been making time for him. He even had his disgusting scent all over him.

Evian wasn't jealous or anything.

How could he be jealous of prey interacting with one another ?!

He just wanted to remind his ' friend ' who he was supposed to spend more time with.

The siren let out a small moan as he felt his own cock struggle in his pants, but he had to be patient for now.

He needed to remind his pretty little omega that he was the only friend he was supposed to have '

Evian would sooner die than publicly admit he has feelings for M/N. He's not against showing him affection in public but he's sure as hell won't use his mouth to say it.

Uses his family's connection to break the engagement between M/N and Marrav so he can keep the little sheep hybrid for himself.

Is manipulative and controlling so he's going to make the h/c man his perfect little spouse. Uses magic to watch the sheep's every move.

As for dealing with other love intrests, he either sells them off to the black market or have his minions deal with them, but personally he doesn't like bothering himself with things that would make him handle ' unpure ' creatures.

Though if the Love interest in question pushes him far enough he will.

Hope you like this