#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THEM OK

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore replacing eodio with a creepy doll and casually forgetting it isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

[alottiegoingon]

hc!baby steps

sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: where sam takes care of her pregnant girlfriend

warnings: f!reader but no pronouns used, looots of fluff, established relationship, sam and reader live together, overprotective sam, ghostface!sam hcs at the end, mentions of murders and blood but nothing explicit, not proofread

୨୧ sam could not believe when you told her you were pregnant. for the first five seconds she was worrid about money and not being prepared to be a mom but she couldn't be more excited to start a family with you

୨୧ sam would be so careful to not overwhelm you with her protection and anxiety of keeping you safe all the time. she had learned her lesson with tara

୨୧ so, instead of asking you all the time if you were ok, she would stick to you like glue. it was weird to have an extra shadow following you everywhere but you didn't mind it

୨୧ you and sam decided that moving to a safer apartment in new york would be better for the baby. a better neighbourhood with nice schools around. you thought it would be easy, until sam started being a bit too cautious

୨୧ “this one is perfect. there's plenty of natural light," you look around the fourth apartment you visited in that afternoon, hoping that your girlfriend would approve this one. it was the perfect size too

୨୧ too small, too big, too dark, too smelly, noisy neighbours, too far from work. sam could be pretty demanding

୨୧ “it's great, sure,” judging by her voice, you could tell she had found something new to complain about, “but the windows are too big, it could be dangerous," she nods in disapproval, holding tight to your waist as if you were about to fall from the windows even if they were meters away

୨୧ “the baby is not going to be alone, sam. and we can protect the windows and add some nests or baby proof locks” you suggest but she didn’t seem convinced. she would fight the windows if she could!

୨୧ "right. but what if the baby learns how to open them? or what if the safety net is big enough for our baby to go through it?”

୨୧ "is our baby a genius or the ant-man?" the joke relaxes her just enough so you can see a shy smile growing on her lips. “i’m sorry, i just want us to be safe.”

୨୧ “i know, and i’m very grateful for you,” you hold sam’s face, stroking her cheeks, “but i promise that we are going to be safe. i’m okay, the baby is okay and you’re okay. it’s all good.”

୨୧ “i may be worrying too much again,” she admits, leaning into your touch, finally relaxing

୨୧ “just a little, yeah,” giggling, you draw closer to kiss her

୨୧ sam wouldn’t panic over every single thing that happened, at least not out loud, so it was very easy for her to get anxious about her own feelings

୨୧ trying to not make you anxious as well, she would just swallow all of her worries away and hope for the best but you’d always notice how the look in her eyes changed when she’d get nervous

୨୧ “what’s going on, baby?” you’d often comfort her with reassuring words, tender touches and lots of kisses, making sure that sam knew you were completely fine and always by her side

୨୧ sam would be the perfect partner when shopping for baby itens. she’d be sooo happy to pick some adorable baby clothes or whatever you needed and would even try to find matching clothes for you three

୨୧ no matter how many things you had bought, she’d carry all of it and would beg you to not carry any weight or move an extra muscle

୨୧ “give it to me, love, i’ll do it,” sam grabs the water bottle from your empty hands, fighting for her life to open it and carry all off the at least five bags in her arms while doing so

୨୧ “are you sure? cause you already have a lot of-“

୨୧ “it’s fine. i can do it, don’t worry,” she offers you a comforting smile that lasted about a second before going back to duel with the bottle, cursing it while trying to balance the bags

୨୧ you had the weirdest cravings ever and when going out for dinner once, you asked the waitress if they could bring you tuna and ice cream for dessert and it took a weirded out look coming from the woman for sam to intervene

୨୧ “yes, she asked for ice cream and tuna. do you have any?” and she’s all over her like 😡🙄

୨୧ at the supermarket, you were by the sweets section trying to choose a chocolate you liked for a movie night with sam and you gasped when you found your favorite one for sale

୨୧ you were ready to grab one or two when sam showed up with a different cart so full of it that a few ones were about to fall

୨୧ “oh, god,” you mumble, widen eyes incredulously staring at the mountain of candy

୨୧ “i know right? i’m so glad they have your favorite” 😁😁

୨୧ sam would get some good hours of sleep at first but as the baby’s arrival date was getting closer, she would spend almost the entire night just watching you sleep and making sure you were 100% safe and sound

୨୧ sometimes you’d wake up to sam whispering the most adorable shit ever to your belly and calling herself mommy. you were dying there, trying not to bawl your eyes out, but you pretended to be asleep every time, not wanting to interrupt the moment. eventually you’d fall asleep again to the sound of her voice and gentle touches

if ghostface was out there,

୨୧ sam would be extremely overprotective. no going out alone, no talking to any neighbors, no answering phones or getting too close to windows. doors would always be locked. if she could, she would lock you in a tower just like rapunzel

୨୧ sam had to leave for work but leaving you alone was the worst of her nightmares, so she found a way

୨୧ “don’t you think this is a little too much, sam?” you ask, frowning at your girlfriend as she introduces you to a intimidating strong guy wearing a suit. you could swear that he had a gun hidden in there but wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did, sam protectiveness was no joke

୨୧ that was supposed to be your new bodyguard, who would follow you around everywhere. including the shower you were about to take

୨୧ “don’t worry, gorgeous,” she grins, assuring you. “he’ll stay outside”

if sam was ghostface,

୨୧ she would kill everyone that had been rude to you. literally. even the slightest unusual look or barely rude tone would be a great reason for anyone to make it to her list of names

୨୧ if she was ghostface, that waitress that was surprised by your weird tuna-ice cream order would definitely have a surprise visitor waiting for her at home later

୨୧ while shopping for clothes for yourself, a miracle now that everything was about the baby, a woman refused to let you have the last gorgeous dress of your size, even calling you a bitch when all you did was ask her if you could have it

୨୧ sam was furious and you had to hold her back to avoid the other woman to get beaten up and the police to get called

୨୧ the very next morning, you woke up to the news of the same woman found dead in her apartment, her exact face showing up on your tv

୨୧ "what the…" you immediately get up from the couch as you heard the news, looking back at sam who was at the bathroom taking a shower or something. "sam, come here! i think that woman from yesterday got killed.”

୨୧ "really?” she yells from the bathroom, fingers firmly rubbing the blood out of a small cut she had on her cheek, that would later be covered with makeup.

୨୧ "that's awful,” she quickly walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, stopping right next to you. “i mean, i wouldn’t be surprised if her attitude was what got her killed" she casually comments, eyes attached to the television

୨୧ "sam!" you slap her shoulder and she groans in response. "the woman was killed, don't say that."

୨୧ "you’re right, im sorry," she smiles, reaching her free hand towards you and holding your chin to turn your face to hers so she could place a kiss on your forehead. "it’s a shame she can’t use that dress anymore.”

[lustlovehart]

Hi there, i saw ur blade fics & omg 😳 So i came here to send a req for another blade content with gn reader. No yandere blade, but kinda dark (related to ur latest fic of him & i hope u r ok with my req, feel free to decline it).

So, ur latest fic said the reader leaves all of the 'sinning' to him. What if the reader wants to kill someone cz that person is somehow related to their past (in terrible terms with them & it haunts the reader like how it haunts blade). But the reader remembers to leave the 'sinning' to him, so they ask blade to do it (even though they apologize afterwards cz they feel like burdening him).

I hope my req is all safe, im sry if it's complicated 😭 But thx a lot!

Hell Is A Place Without You

A/n: Ahhh!!! I’m so happy you enjoy my Blade writings ^^, I actually already was planning on making a part 2 for it so this req was perfect | pt.2 of I’ll Suffer Your Sin

Summary: Your mind is dirtied with unwanted memories, who knew that nightmare would come back to haunt you? Only you decide who ends your dream. [Date with Blade goes horribly wrong]

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Being watched while you sleep, Awkward Bladie trying to court you, Minor Character Death, horrifically written fight scene

It’s impossible to truly escape your past, the traces and scars it left behind on you will always remain on your body, no matter how hard you scrub it off. Even in your own dreams, you aren’t free of such a hell. The way that they had betrayed you is etched so deep into your skin tearing your flesh to reach its core will never be enough to absolve you from the memory. The past you remember is buried in blood, their laughter ringing in your ears as you watched them destroy everything you had, yourself as well.

You dream of being free, alas, you'll be chained by it as long as they have you.

“Is something wrong?” The way your heart pumps as gasps of air rush in and out of your lungs doesn’t fail to go unnoticed by the man next to you. He’s bare, the only thing covering his torso being the bandages wrapped around his waist. The way the light from the moon gazing through the window highlights his prettiest features, his muscular stature, his face, and even the scars that adorn his skin are beautiful.

You're sure you would've liked the sight more had you been in a regular state of mind. The events from yesterday still continue to stir you up, and the nightmare only made it worse.

"I-It's nothing just a… Wait, have you slept at all Blade…?"

…

"No, I haven't"

"Why? I know you have sleeping problems but you should try."

" I was making sure you're okay." For a moment his eyes lock onto your wrapped hand, a cruel reminder of what he had done yesterday, 

…

"Were you… Watching me sleep…?" he blinks a few times at you before turning back towards the window. Maybe that cold chill up your spine was caused by him instead of your nightmare.

“If I said no you wouldn’t be convinced.” He’s right, even if he did you would most definitely tell he was lying. Well to be fair, he never lies to you, so it wouldn’t be hard to tell in the first place. Now that you think about it, there are some moments in which you wish he would’ve created a fake truth, alas, him and his “that will change nothing” mindset won’t fulfill that wish.

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t.” You lift yourself from the bed, the sun still hasn’t risen, in fact, it’s still evening, but knowing you have a serial sleepwatcher in the room with you, it might just be better to stay up.

His eyes follow your groggy form slowly putting your work outfit on, his gaze not at all straying. It’s only when you look straight at him that he finally decides to not stare.

He breaks the silence while you’re trying to put on your shoes, his words making you pause and look back up at him for a moment, a null feeling hidden in your chest makes you consider telling him, but in the end, you choke it down and pay no mind to his words, going back to putting your footwear on.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said it was nothing—“ You don’t feel like announcing your personal problems as of the moment. When you finish, your body stands back up to its regular height, a small scream escaping your lungs when you turn around and find your coworker standing too close for comfort behind you. His stone-cold face is only inches apart from your own, each breath that escapes him being felt on your skin.

Despite how intimidating the situation is from an outsider's perspective, this proximity of closeness is usual between the two of you, so it doesn’t bother you as much as it should, but that doesn’t stop the chill in your body from happening.

“I don’t lie to you, I never would. Why don’t you hold the same sentiment?” His voice is soft, it’s a dead giveaway of his feelings for you, at least, you think it is, he’s not exactly the type to directly say “I love you”, so you have to gauge his current emotions through his body language and actions. It’s not a problem for you, that doesn’t mean it’s easy though.

“But I’m… I’m not lying.”

“Yes. You are. You’re not very good at it.” Sometimes you wish the two of you didn’t work as well as you do, if that was the case, maybe he wouldn’t be able to see through you so easily.

…

“You’re right I’m lying. But… I don’t know why you care so much… It has nothing to do with you.” Your sentence starts soft before branching out into a firmer tone. This change in attitude made his breath, though barely audibly, hitch in his throat. You don’t speak any more words, only letting his sight linger on you a little longer. His eyes close when he finally retracts himself from your body.

The breath you had held in your esophagus was finally sighed out from the sudden free space. When you look up again, you see the man walk towards the door, the handle clicking as he unlocks and turns it open.

Is he gonna leave…? No is he… Brooding…? The door swings open quickly, his body maneuvering so he’s on the side. He doesn’t look at you, but with the way he’s holding the door, you assume he’s holding it open for you.

“Let’s go.”

“Wha? It’s practically midnight… Where would we go? Nothing's open, and the script is meant to start in a couple of hours—“

“Do we need to have something to do?”

“Well, usually, yeah.”

“Then we’ll walk.” His eyes still don’t make contact with yours, but you can feel the very feint feeling of him wanting you to agree. As you walk forward your body can’t help but hesitate for a moment. The Stellaron hunter is quickly taken by surprise when he feels your previously injured hand grab onto his wrist and drag him along behind you.

———

The planet you both are currently residing within is a metropolis filled with millions of stores. Maybe if you hadn’t dreamed in your sleep you could’ve gone shopping, too bad they’re all closed.

“You could always go when we’re done with the script.” His deep voice breaks your train of thought as you look down at the tiny lights. You don’t look at him but a quiet “mm” is all he needs to hear to know you heard him.

“By the time we’re done, the city will be in shambles, I don’t think that’ll work.” It’s sad really, looking down at the little glowing wisps reminds you that there are people who live here, not just people, animals, and robots, all with their own lives.

“I didn’t say you had to buy anything.” Sometimes though, not all those lives are worthy of happiness.

“Are you implying we should steal during the aftermath?” You don’t hear the silent steps walking towards the two of you, too absorbed in your conversation with the one your coworkers describe as your “bodyguard”.

“I could do it for you.” They’re close, close enough to hear the words you speak to the man.

“Would you really? I thought you were the type to not stray from the script.” You finally turn around to face him, despite the solemn mood, a slight smile can be seen from your lips a teasing demeanor exuding from your mask. Your body leans on the railing, Blade's eyes occasionally shifting to where you stand, you take it he’s worried you’ll fall.

“I am. I’m following it. Elio says I’m to “make [Name] enjoy the planet”.”

“Oh? So you’re only doing it cause you have to?” Your body lifts from where you once leaned, his own staying unmoved as you advance toward him.

“No, I would’ve done it either way.” Your smile widens a little more, his words are simple but it’s nice to know he’d do something like that for you unprompted. 

The way your face exudes such a warm expression doesn’t go unnoticed, going from a formerly teasing to a more heartfelt look, making his mouth almost quirk up. Almost. As he stares, his mind is taking at least 5 mental pictures to not forget the look on your face.

Perhaps he’ll use it in the future whenever his mara needs quenching. Who’s he kidding, it’s not perhaps, it’s for certain that he’ll use it.

“Would you buy-- or rather, steal me a drink 'cause you want to?“ your finger lifts causing the man's attention to shift, looking at the vending machine in the far distance filled with different juices and beverages. He can feel you gently open his palm, placing credits in his hand. He doesn’t say words but nods his head, turning to walk towards the machine. 

A machine that was quite the stretch away from you.  

Your head turns to look at the pretty lights at the city below, unsuspecting of the person hidden behind you. 

A crunch sounds out through the air, your body immediately spinning to see the figure hurling towards you, the glint of steel highlighting the weapon in their hand. 

Clash of Blades continue to spiral out in the space until you’ve successfully pinned them to the railing, their body leaned over the fence, a small edge laid on their throat. Right there, in your hands, is the chance to leave your history behind in the dust. But, your hand can’t help but tremble. Your knees are weak too, despite it, your hand continues to press deeper, blood drawing from the wound. 

“Take me, as much as you need. All of it if you have to.“

“is that it?“ a sadistic laugh escaped from the depths of their throat. The cold feeling of a sharp point is directed in your stomach. “I’m fine with you coming back if that’s what you want-“ 

“... I don’t need it. So have it.“

The figure is shoved to the side, their head making contact with the floor, the weapon in your hand unmoving from its place as you look down to where their body lies. They’re still alive, the harsh breathing of their crumpled form on the floor is enough to tell you. A hand intertwines with your own, the familiar touch reminding you of the events from yesterday. 

Blade's hand is warm as he holds your fingers in his, the reds in his eyes looking down at you. 

“...“ 

For a moment, your eyes make contact, keeping a steady connection. The light from the city accentuates his looks, the expression on his face pensive, yet still pretty at the same time. 

“I’ll leave the… ‘sinning’, to you then.“

Slowly, your grip on the handle loosens, the only thing keeping your hold on the weapon being Blade's hands clinging to yours. 

“Blade… Please–“ Your head is turned down, the gentle tilt of his hand making you look at the floor. The knife is finally released from your possession, your eyes not looking up to meet him at the trade. From the edge of your vision, you can see Blade shrug off his outerwear, hanging the piece of clothing on your head, further sheltering you from the gruesome sight soon to come. 

The smell of Citrus and Herbal tea invades your nostrils, both comforting and horrifying. But, the scent is enough to distract you from the harsh sound of a knife swinging and the wheezing that accompanies it. A few quick jabs and the sound of breathing slowly dissipates. 

Even then, Blade's attack on the body does not stop, he keeps going until he can discern the sound of heavy breathing being yours and not his own, finally breaking him out of his trance and allowing him to turn back to you. 

Your hands slowly begin to lift the jacket from your person before swift footsteps halt your actions, quickly tugging the fabric back down. 

“Not yet.” 

He’s quick to take you by the waist, the pungency of iron breaching the protective layer of cloth between you and him. It isn’t until minutes pass does he delicately lifts the jacket off your head and rests it on your shoulders. 

The sight, it’s one you’ve seen dozens of times on him, deep scarlet liquid splattered and smeared on his body, hollow eyes, sullied clothes with fresh blood on his soft hair. 

You continue clinging onto his jacket. Looking at him, but not at him. The barrier serving as a blockade for the beast in front of you. 

Neither of you speak, only listening to the sounds of the sleeping city as you indulge in one another. His mouth leans towards his bloodied glove, the teeth behind his lips revealing themself and serving as a removal for the piece of fabric. 

He reaches for your hand, the scars on his skin evident as you allow him to place your palm on your chest. 

“You’re alive [Name].” He’s right, the beating in your chest is proof of that fact. But so what? “You’re alive in the same way that I’m dead.” What? The look he holds in his eyes is empty, not giving you any telltale sign of what he means. 

“But even then, what would the living know about the words of the dead.” A quote from Kafka that she had restated is all you can remember in your mind. His grip on your hand doesn’t relent for a moment, only pointing his head in the direction of the city, signaling you to turn around and see. 

The once-slumbering city has now awoken. A beautiful sight that will eventually fall despite the morning's hope. 

A ding sounds from Blade's phone. 

Kafka 🕸️: Are you ready dears? 

---

This took way longer to finish than I wanted it to

[tomscumdump]

Helooooo!!!

Can you write a really rough smut with bill being really mean and dominant n stuff? Like calling reader REALLY degrading names (I like "cumdump" way to much for my own good)

I OBVIOUSLY HAVE ISSUES OK😔

Anyway it's totally fine if you don't want to write this ik a lot of ppl aren't into stuff like this<3

yes ofc !! lwk excited to write this lollll :33 anywaysss here it is , enjoy you freaksss 💋

WANT IT ALL

-18 +

“BILL!! fuck- please I can’t!!” I cried out, grasping at the white bedsheets. that didn’t stop him, my boobs moved up and down as he rammed his dick into me.

“no, you’ll cum as much times as I tell you to.” he said sternly, a few groans and grunts coming from him, skin slapping and moans filling the room. small strands of his black highlighted hair stuck to his forehead from sweat.

he pulled out, rubbing his tip rapidly on my clit, causing me to gasp unable to exhale. “oooh my ~nghh~ billy p-please!!” I was so shocked he had been able to go on for this long, this had to have been the longest we had lasted.

“shiiitttt you feel—“ he said getting cut off by his orgasm hitting him like a bus, his warm cum spurting into me the sudden action making me cum as well. “fuck!” we both moan out, my back arched and his head tossed back. “so good..” he said breathlessly

my eyes were glued shut, every breath in and out my stomach shaking slightly. I knew it wasn’t done, I felt his intoxicating eyes on me. he lifted my legs up with one hand giving him a pretty view of my pussy.

he moaned just at the sight. “your pussy is so fuckin pretty schatz..” I gave a small moan in return, my words being jumbled. “.. b-bill I don’t think I can d—“ the new position he had put me in had made it easy access for his dick to hit my g-spot.

“oh my ~mhh~ fuckk!!” I cry out. my arms flinging to his arms for some kind of support. he lets out a groan as he catches his breath, he pulls out slowly until only about half the tip is in. then he crashes back into me. “this pussy, is mine. you hear me you slut?” he grunts as he rams in and out of me, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. his words ringing in my head as it was the only thing on my mind.

“look at you. my little fucking cum dumpster hm?” he said with a smirk on his face. he pulled me closer and his dick managed to dig even deeper into me. I couldn’t even speak. small tears trickled down my face from the amount of pleasure and overstimulation I was feeling.

“my good little girl. my princess takes my cock so good hm?” he slaps my pussy and gets a whimper in response. he chuckles and runs his free hand up and down my leg, giving me shivers. “you like that? you like it when I slap that pussy?” I give a weak smile and nod my head. “y-yess..” I say breathlessly. the feeling was so euphoric I almost couldn’t take it.

almost.

I noticed bill getting a bit slower with his pace, he pressed his hand down on my lower abdomen and he picks up his pace. he chuckles and moans out, both of our orgasms coming close. “oh shiitt…”

“pleaseeee— billy cum in me please..!!” I couldn’t help but moan with my mouth agape. he shoved his fingers into my mouth. almost immediately I started to suck and lick his long skinny fingers.

he rammed into me just as hard, I felt my orgasm coming. “I-I’m gonna cum!” he grabbed my hands and held them above my head. “no, no no. you only cum when I cum.” I whine and squirm around begging to cum. “billy i-i ~gah!!~ I can’t!” I thrust my hips up to try and feel more and more.

I wanted it all.

he slapped me and grasped my face to face him. “if you fuckin cum your not getting shit, slut.” I whined and nodded yes, the way he spat these harsh words at me only turned me on more. “yes.. yes I’ll listen billy!!” he shoved in and out of me a few more times until he finally came.

“~nghh~ fuckk I’m cumming!!” he cried out, the feeling of his warmth spurting into me felt so good I couldn’t get enough. I thrusted my hip up once more and came as well. “b-bill!!!” I felt my legs shake, this orgasm having to be the one that hit me hardest. bill let go of my arms and legs, picking me up and carrying me to the bathroom.

“bill p-please I can’t go again…” he kissed me and brushed my hair to the side “yes, yes you can schatz.” he bent me over the bathroom sink. I could see his face in the mirror. his black highlighted hair being stuck to his forehead from sweat, small beads of sweat forming on his nose.

”your so gorgeous liebe. your mine, all mine..” i smiled at his words, knowing they were true. no man or dildo had ever been able to fuck me just as good as bill. his tip teased my entrance, I whimpered as he slowly shoved himself in.

his hands snaked around my body down to my clit, he rubbed rapidly as he rammed into me. the feeling felt so good, but I couldn’t take it. “one more. cum for me one more time.” he grabbed my hair and lifted my hair up to see in the mirror. “look at you, you whore.” he grunted in my ear, I was getting closer and closer just watching him kiss and suck on my neck in the mirror, and feeling his dick inside me.

he sighed out and leaned back slightly, I could tell by the look on his face he was close. but he had no more energy to keep going. I scoffed my ass back and did the work for him he looked down and watched me fuck myself.

“yeah baby, use my cock cmon.” I kept going until I was getting close to cumming again. he smirked and praised me more. “keep goin, shiittt I’m gonna cum baby…”

I kept going, picking up my pace as I felt that familiar knot form in my stomach again. the look on his face told me he wanted to degrade me and tease, but he couldn’t take it. and neither could I.

”~fuckk~ yes baby cum on it.” he grunts, throwing his head back as he lets out a laugh with a shaky breath. I push myself back against him, fully standing up using his body as support. I cried out as he let out a long groan, both of us reaching our climax . I repeatedly moaned out his name and he dug his face into the crook of my neck, biting down hard.

he thrusted into me gently once more, milking every ounce of that sweet high we both desired. he kissed my cheek and whispered with his raspy, croaky voice.

“im gonna need this more often.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ 

omg this took so much longer than I expected. anyways woohoooo first little one shot for u freakksss :33 hope this was good!! sorry abt it being short lmao.. :/

[stylesharrys]

The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]

Y/N and Harry find themselves on the run from the same people that killed Sam, and Y/N isn't sure how much more of this she can take. 

A/N: this is the final part of the series, still mad that it wouldn’t let me post it as one big fic but it is what it is. I’m working super hard on some new things for you guys and I’m excited to share them when they’re ready… but I do have a couple more old exclusive pieces I might share first :) 

Warnings: (in no particular order) mentions of death/loss of a sibling and grandparent, mentions of miscarriage, unsupportive parents, swearing, brief descriptions of illegal fighting, money laundering, use of weapons, brief mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety, schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, smut; kissing, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, oral (both receiving/69)

WC: 14.8k 

//

“Y/N, you forgot to sign off on meds.” 

With a very tired sigh, Y/N huffs to herself. She’s been like this all day, messing up here and there, forgetting things she wouldn’t ever usually forget. But that’s what happens when Y/N gets in her head. She makes mistakes and finds it difficult to think straight. 

She wouldn’t have this problem if she didn’t sleep with Harry. If he didn’t sneak out while she slept like she had told him to. But alas, here she is, unable to think about anything else other than the dull ache between her thighs where she craves him the most. 

She probably wouldn’t be this pent up if they spoke about it — or spoke at all in general. But they haven’t, not really. In the last two days, they’ve shared a total of six texts between them, and she doesn’t even have to look at her phone to remind herself of what they say. 

Harry: I left while you were sleeping, thought it would be best that way x

Y/N: yeah, I get it x

Y/N: I won’t be able to come to the club until Wednesday if that’s ok. Working late the next two days

Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x

Y/N: just to make you aware, Mary has started new medication for her diabetes x

Harry: cool, thank you x

The small conversation had been spread over 48 hours and Y/N isn’t sure how to feel about that. Is that a hint that she should take? That he’s not interested in it happening again, even though they alluded to another time when they were together? 

It’s the unknown that’s had her so worked up today. So much so that even now, fixing her mistake on the medication sheet, she somehow almost signs the wrong name off. 

Handing the pen back to Cynthia, Y/N finally grabs her bag and zips up her jacket to leave work. She doesn’t waste a second before opening the door and allowing the biting chill of the night's air to nip at the skin of her face. 

The idea of a steaming hot bath and a glass of white wine sits heavy in her mind as she makes for the car park, tries to think of the best way she can take her mind off Harry this evening. 

She supposes she could catch up with one of her shows, maybe even start the book she bought last week and still hasn’t got round to opening. 

A book, bath and a glass of wine is what she decides on — she might even be cheeky and order food in or pick something up on the way home. 

It’s only a few more steps to her car when she hears an engine turn on a few spaces from her. Headlights light up the dark, illuminating her way slightly and she squints. 

The late shift ended two hours ago and no one else is finishing or starting shift at this time of the night. She wonders if it’s just someone who lives locally that’s using their parking lot, but the harder she looks, the more unnerved she feels. 

Y/N recognises the three faces in the car — two in the front and one in the back. She remembers their intense gazes from the pub just a few nights ago; where Harry got extremely uptight about their presence — and now, they’re here, outside of her work, staring at her. 

That familiar feeling of fear settles heavy in her stomach and as if out of impulse, she begins to slow her speed and sifts through her purse, appearing as though she’s searching for her keys. 

She stops then, subtly pulls her phone out and turns around back toward the building of the care home, like she’s lost what she’s looking for. It’s when her back is completely toward the car and her feet slowly carry her back to the front door to not appear spooked, she’s dialling Harry’s number and bringing the phone to her ear. 

It only rings once and then he answers. 

“Hey,” his voice is light, happy. “I was just about to call you.” 

“Harry, I need you to pick me up from work.” The panic in her voice stirs something worrisome in Harry’s gut and his once airy tone is diminished. 

“Okay, I’m coming. What’s wrong, Penny? Are you okay?” 

“Those guys from the pub the other night are here. They’re in a car right by mine and I’m scared. I don’t know what to fucking do!” 

He’s swallowing down the bile that crawls up his throat, grabbing his keys from the table in the office as he stands. 

“Are you in your car?”

“No, I was walking out of work when I noticed them.”

“Go back inside and meet me out the back. Do not leave the building until I text you.”

“Can you please stay on the phone with me?” 

His heart clenches, hands balling into fists. He doesn’t say anything to anyone as he leaves the club, only a few of the guys training in the space. 

“Yeah, just keep talking to me. How many guys are in the car?” 

Y/N hears him start up his engine as she re-enters the building and rushes through the halls. “Three.” 

Harry doesn’t have to ask what they look like to know who they are. The anger that consumes him begins to shake his body, red slowly blurring his vision and he hasn’t driven this fast since the night of Sammy’s death. 

“Harry, who are they? Why did you get spooked at the pub when you saw them and why the fuck are they waiting outside my work?” 

He doesn’t answer her. “I’ll be two minutes, just stay inside.” 

She doesn’t like the way he dismisses her question, how she’s being left in the dark, purposefully. That fear begins to ache in her fingertips, heart racing against her ribcage and those familiar signs of a panic attack begin to make themselves apparent. 

“Har… I can’t breathe. I’m freaking the fuck out.” 

“Don’t,” he tells her, voice stern. “I’m coming around the corner. It’s gonna be fine…. I’m outside.” 

She pushes through the back door quickly, eyes frantically searching for his Chevy when she finally spots his headlights. Harry flashes them at her, leaning over to open the passenger door and Y/N’s quick to get inside and lock it shut behind her. 

The state she’s in makes Harry feel sick. Eyes like a deer in headlights, fear prominent in every feature. She turns to him with a wild look, swallowing thickly. 

Harry reaches for her hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze before reversing out of the narrow road and turning back around. 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, ignoring her question until she calls his name again, much sterner this time. 

“Tell me what is going on.” 

He looks at her briefly, dragging his eyes back to the road again. This is not how he wanted it to go. He didn’t want her caught up in this mess and he didn’t want to have to be the one to explain Sammy’s death. Much less under these circumstances. 

“I’m going to take you back to my place and I’ll explain everything there, okay?” 

Y/N shakes her head profusely, tearing her hand from Harry’s hold as the panic refuses to subside. 

“No, that’s not okay. Harry, I can’t—“

“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?” 

She blinks at him. “What?” 

“Do you trust me?” he repeats, accentuating every word. 

It’s not something she needs to think about. Maybe it’s a bit crazy, a bit premature, but she does trust him. With her life. 

She nods her head once. “I trust you.” 

Her words sit a little heavy in Harry’s chest. She trusts him. The confirmation of it doesn’t relax him like he thought it would. Because Sam trusted him, and Harry was too late. 

He’ll be damned if history repeats itself. 

“Then trust when I say I’ll explain everything when we get home. You’re safe with me, and I need you to calm down.” 

He knows it’s easier said than done but when he doesn’t hear Y/N complain, and he feels her relax into her seat the best she can, that heaviness sits a little lighter. 

“Okay.” 

The usual forty minute drive to Harry’s apartment takes just under twenty minutes. The roads are clear and Harry’s not ashamed to admit he stepped on the gas a little harder than usual. 

To him, this isn’t a time to take a leisurely drive and admire the night's view. Because if this is anything like before, it’s life or death and Harry won’t allow the latter. 

His flat is on the third floor of a fairly large complex. It’s stealth-like, how he guides her through the halls and into his flat. She takes it in for a few seconds. Clean, tidy, minimal. 

Like he can up and leave at any given moment if necessary. 

Harry throws his keys on the coffee table and rushes to the window, closing the blinds before wandering to the kitchen to do the same. A frown sits heavy between his brows and there’s something a bit erratic about him. 

The composure she had just moments before is quickly dwindling and soon enough, she’s back to panicking again. 

“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on now?” 

Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, hands on his hips as he looks at her. Neither of them really take into consideration that this is the first time they’ve seen each other since they slept together. 

And now is not a time to bring it up either. 

Harry huffs. “Look, those guys are bad news. Mentally fucking insane, okay? They had it out for Sam and now they’re after you.” 

Y/N stares at him, blinking her eyes wide. “Excuse me?” 

He doesn’t want to tell her, can't stomach the idea of it, but Harry knows he doesn’t have a choice. He can’t keep her in the dark about her brother forever. And now that the same people are after her, she deserves to know the truth. 

“Sam wasn’t always this great guy, Penny. He had a dark side and they were a part of it.” 

The mention of her late brother makes her heart twist. Her chest begins to rattle as she tries to take in his words. To understand what he’s trying to get at. 

“What are you trying to say?” She poses the question carefully, not wanting to read the situation wrong. 

A look of softness flashes across Harry’s face as he takes a step closer. “Sammy’s death wasn’t an accident,” he begins, “Those guys ran him off the road and killed him.”

It’s all too much and everything starts caving in on her. Y/N can hardly breathe, can barely even see. There’s a drumming in her head that deafens her, a haze in her eyes that blinds her. 

Her brother didn’t pass away. He was taken — his soul torn from his body before he was ready to go, and Y/N can’t stomach that. Can’t handle the truth of what Harry’s told her. 

How is she supposed to live her life now? Knowing her brother was murdered. Knowing they are the reason for it. 

“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths. 

“Sam owed them money.”

“How much?” 

There’s a pause, and then… “Thirty grand.” 

She’s completely exasperated, struggling to comprehend anything he’s saying. Was thirty grand really worth his life? 

“He was late in paying them,” Harry continues. “We had Feds on our backs watching the club and all of our transactions, we couldn’t risk it.” 

Y/N looks at him, brows pinched tightly as she struggles to see through the onslaught of tears. “So he just refused?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No, not at first. But then they uh… they went after this girl he’d been seeing—“

“—Amira?”

Harry nods. “They tried scaring her, to give Sam a message. They roughed her up — Penny…” he pauses, like he’s preparing himself to say what he needs to, and just when Y/N thinks it couldn’t get worse, it does, “She was pregnant. And she lost the baby because of it.” 

Harry doesn’t give her time to properly process his words, figures it’ll be best to rip most of the bandaid off at once rather than in small increments. 

“Sam lost his shit, told them that they’ll never see their money and that he was after them. One night, they showed up at the club and all Hell broke loose. They ran, we followed — Sam in one car and me in another.” 

The way his voice begins to dwindle with every passing word makes Y/N’s stomach sink. Like she knows what he’s leading up to, that he’s about to divulge the traumatic truth of her brother's death. 

She doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear what will haunt her for the rest of her life. But her heart needs the truth — needs to understand what happened to him, needs revenge. 

“Sam was always a better driver; faster,” he croaks, and he falls silent for a second or two until he speaks again with a broken voice. “I heard the sound the same time I turned the corner — his car had flipped and was wrapped around a telephone pole. And they were gone.” 

Her heart is in her stomach, a numbing pain searing through her veins. Pain for Amira and their baby, pain for Sam, pain for herself. But with the pain comes anger. Anger toward the men that killed him. Anger toward the fact that Harry’s always had this knowledge of Sam’s death and didn’t say anything until now, when he felt he had to. 

“You’ve known this whole time.”

There’s little to no emotion in her voice, and the blank expression in her eyes begins to unnerve Harry slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you just weren't going to tell me at all?” 

Harry’s growing frustrated but he knows he has no right. He kept this secret from her, he chose to protect her from the truth and is only now realising the consequences of that decision. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “You can hate me all you want but right now, we need to get out of here.” 

A slither of confusion cracks through that empty facade as she takes in the desperation of his voice. Like she’s only now just remembering the severity of the situation they’re in. 

“What?” 

“It’s a matter of time before they check your place, check mine and then riot the club. They didn’t just stop after Sam. They’re trying to take over The Box and that includes getting rid of you and I.”

That all consuming panic is quick to surge through her body, chest rising and falling rapidly as the anger subsides to fear. 

“So… so we need to leave town.” 

He nods slowly at her shaky words, allowing her to take the lead as much as she can so she doesn't feel forced. Y/N scratches at her forehead, keeps her eyes on the ground below her. 

“Okay. Uh… I take it we can’t go back to my place. Can I, like, borrow some clothes or something?” 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes. “I’ll pack a bag now, you should probably call work, tell them there’s a family emergency and you won’t be in for a few days.” 

He leaves her for a few minutes, rushing off to pack a bag in his bedroom. Y/N’s fumbling to type a text to her manager, struggles to keep the tears at bay. 

It’s all too much. It’s one thing to find out her brother was murdered, but to hear the same people that killed him are after her and Harry now? She feels like she can’t breathe. 

//

“Hi, d’you have any more rooms available for the night?” 

He’s softly tapping his finger on the reception desk, eyes on Y/N as he speaks and she’s full of the jitters. 

Harry sped their way to the next town over, pulling into the first motel they came across. She was silent for the majority of the drive, too in her head to offer a coherent conversation but Harry understood, so he didn’t press it. 

And she’s the same now, curled into herself as Harry hands over enough cash to pay for their room for tonight, and lugs the bags in his hands with the room key, making toward the elevator. 

“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you, I didn’t want to taint your memories of him.” He breaks the silence as the door closes and they’re carried higher through the building. 

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

It’s quiet but he hears her, loud and clear. Harry hates that he’s made her feel this way – that he’s gotten her mixed up in this shitshow. He’s guilty, blames himself for everything that happened to Sam, everything that’s now happening to her.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out. 

He looks down at her, brows pinched as she gazes up at him through fluttering lashes and hooded eyes, “What for?” 

“None of this is your fault, I know you were only trying to protect me from the truth. Don’t do that again.” 

Harry nods curtly as the doors open and he leads them down the hall in search of their room for the night. He unlocks it, flicks on the lights and lets Y/N walk through first. 

It’s nothing special, just a standard cheap hotel room, but what does catch Y/N’s eye is the bed. Just the one. And she’s reminded of the last time she saw him, when he was in her bedroom, fucking the life out of her. Despite the circumstances, she’s not opposed to sharing a bed – it might make her feel a little safer – but they’ve not discussed their previous meet-up and she doesn’t know what to make of it. 

Harry notices how her gaze stays fixated on the bed and heat rises to his cheeks. “I’ll take the sofa.”

Y/N turns to him, brows pinched. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not exactly strangers, Harry. We’ve literally had sex together — I think we’re past the formalities.” 

The bluntness of her words has Harry’s eyes widening. His lips part in shock at how brazen she appears about their hook-up. Harry had begun to think she regretted it, and that was why she didn’t bring it up. 

Clearly, he’s been sorely mistaken. He thinks. 

He clears his throat, forcing a cough. “Right.” 

He plants the bag on the sofa and retrieves a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, handing them both to Y/N. She takes them, guides herself to the bathroom and shuts the door. 

It takes Harry a few seconds to regulate his breathing — to get a grip on his emotions and the numbing fear that rattles his body. The whole ordeal is a bit too triggering for him — like he’s potentially going to relive his best friend's death through Y/N. 

He doesn’t know what scares him more. What could happen to her or the lengths he’ll go to to protect her. Either thought is too much to process, so instead he lets his mind wonder about the other situation at hand. 

She’s about to get into bed with him, wearing his clothes, after they hooked up a couple of days ago and are yet to discuss what the hell it means for them. 

And Harry’s aware that it’s definitely not an appropriate time to be thinking about it, but he is. Because he hasn’t been able to stop since it happened. 

He’s torn from his thoughts when the bathroom door opens and Y/N creeps into the bedroom. His heart is lodged in his throat at the sight. His clothes are too big for her and her legs look incredibly soft and smooth, the hem of his t-shirt barely covering her bum. 

“There’s a spare toothbrush on the side. Bathroom’s all yours.” 

There’s not much emotion in her voice now, and Harry can tell from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying behind that bathroom door. His heart cracks a little but he doesn’t say anything. 

Instead he uses the bathroom, strips into a pair of boxers (hoping Y/N won’t mind as he didn’t pack a whole lot of clothes), and brushes his teeth before joining her in the hotel room again. 

She’s under the covers now, only his bedside lamp on and Harry’s heart starts to thump. It’s been a while since he’s laid in bed with someone without something happening. 

Nevertheless, he crawls in beside her and flicks off the light. He keeps a respectable distance between them but still close enough to make out the shadows of her face. That’s when he hears it, the soft sniffles and shaky breath. 

A sigh escapes his lips as he shuffles closer with arms outstretched. He half expects her to push him away, tell him no, she’s still angry with him, but she doesn’t. She coddles herself into his chest instead and lets him hold her — comfort her. 

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Penny. I promise.”

And while she appreciates the reassuring words, it doesn’t do much to soothe her fear and anxiety. Nothing could make her feel safe right now — not even Harry’s warm and strong body keeping her close. Not completely safe, anyway. Not now that she knows the truth. 

What she thinks she needs is a distraction. Something to make her forget, even just for a short while. So it’s not really a surprise to her when she finds herself pulling out of Harry’s hold just enough to crane her neck up to look at him. 

He’s already gazing down at her, eyes as dark as the night. With softly puckered lips, Y/N leans up just enough to press a gentle kiss against his mouth. 

It surprises Harry, if he’s honest. He never would’ve taken her for someone to initiate things first, but he has to remind himself that she’s the type of girl to go after what she wants, and she was the one to initiate things last time. 

He kisses her back just as softly, lips moulding to hers as they both lay on their sides, Y/N lifting her leg to wrap it around Harry’s waist. 

It’s a bold hint that Harry gets, and he pulls away slowly to get a look at her, to search for a single shred of doubt or hesitation. When he falls short, he noses at her temple. 

“It’s probably not a good idea tonight,” he breathes, trying desperately to ignore the way his cock lunges. “Your emotions are really heightened right now. I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.” 

She shakes her head. “I won’t. I didn’t regret it last time,” she tells him, “I just need to forget for a little while.”

Harry swallows thickly. So she doesn’t regret it. And she wants it to happen again, right now, to forget. 

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t have anything — I don’t have a condom with me.” 

Y/N blinks, lips parting. The idea of not using one does cross both of their minds but they’re smarter than that. 

Her hand reaches between their bodies, fingertips grazing across the throbbing length of Harry’s hard cock beneath his boxers. 

“We can do other stuff, can’t we?” 

Her voice is a sensual whisper and it makes his head spin. She’s compelling, everything about her. So he’s not very shocked when he finds himself nodding his head and leaning down to greet her in a kiss again. 

Y/N palms at his clothed cock, hips gently rocking as she tries to get closer. This is what she needs. Him. Anything he’ll give her to make her forget what life is like right now — what she’s running from. 

Harry’s hand cups the side of her jaw, kissing her a little harder. Her spare hand reaches for his wrist to move it away, guides it down their bodies and between her legs until he’s cupping her aching heat through (his) boxers. 

“Are you sure?” 

She squeezes his cock, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his underwear. “Touch me, Har. Need it so bad.” 

He swallows thickly, palming at her heat as a shuddered moan slips from her lips and into his mouth. She wraps her cool fingers around his shift, a hiss sounding from the back of his throat. 

“Need to forget everything, H. Just want you.” 

The neediness in her voice sends him spiralling, latching his mouth to hers with as much force as he can muster. The kiss is messy, dirty — all tongue and teeth and Y/N thinks it’s the hottest thing she’s ever experienced. 

Her hand begins to bob on his cock, long strokes and as she reaches his tip, small beads of precum coat her fingers, smearing across his length. He seethes, a hum soon following as he tries to stay quiet. 

But Y/N doesn’t want him to be quiet. She wants to hear him, how she’s making him feel. 

She pumps a little faster, grip a little tighter. Harry’s sneaking his fingers into the boxers she’s wearing, swirling his fingers between her folds and she’s soaked — almost dripping, really. 

“Jesus Christ, Penny. You’re fucking soaked.” 

She moans into his mouth, bucking her hips against his hand. “I told you not to call me that,” she pants. 

“M’sorry, baby.”

She nods against the kiss. “Yeah, that’s better.”

A breathily laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, his finger prodding at her fluttering hole. She’s eager for him, desperate. Just wants to feel full of him — of whatever he can give her. 

He continues to tease her, thumb on her clit while she lazily tugs at his cock. It’s not enough for her, the gentle touches, she wants her brain turned to mush so she has no choice but to not think. 

Maybe that’s why she shuffles her position beside him until she’s kneeling by his hips and tugging his cock free from the confinements of his boxers.

Harry watches with hooded eyes as she leans down to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to his leaking tip. His head falls back against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as she works her warm mouth on his cock. 

He keeps his hand between her thighs, fingers pinching delicately at her puffy clit, a little too fucked on the feeling of her moaning around him. 

Y/N licks messily from the base to the head, swirling her tongue across his slit before taking him into her mouth. She doesn’t mess about with it, takes as much as she can at once and lets him hit at the back of her throat. 

A gruff moan escapes Harry’s lips as she gags around him, spluttering profusely as strings of saliva dribble from the corners of her mouth. 

He reaches his spare hand down for her head, tugging at the roots of her hair to get her attention. “Turn around,” he breathes heavily. 

She pulls off him, brows pinched. “What?” 

“I wanna taste you at the same time,” he gulps. “Turn around.” 

His hand leaves her head, reaching for the boxers on her waist to tug them down while the other continues its assault on her dripping cunt. He relents for a moment to tug the underwear down her thighs and past her ankles, throwing them across the room and helping situate her above his face. 

She lets out a squeak at his eagerness, nose bumping the tip of his cock but Harry doesn’t care. Her cunt hovers over him, soaked and puffy and a quiet moan slips from his lips at the sight.

With his hands on her hips, he eases her down to latch his mouth around her cunt, slurping at her wetness as he’s finally awarded a taste of her. And he’s hooked. Completely fucked out. She’s sweeter than anything he’s ever had before and he’ll be devastated if she never allows him a taste again. 

Y/N covers him with her mouth, suckling as much as she can fit and bobbing her head with every stroke her tongue offers to the underside of his cock. They’re both messy and sloppy with their actions, eager and desperate for a release.

The hotel room will no doubt stink of sex for days after, but neither of them care. They can barely think straight as it is. 

Harry can’t get over the taste of her, wants it staining his tongue for the rest of his life. He reaches a finger down to probe at her hole, pushing in with ease as she clenches around him. 

Y/N lets out a muffled moan around his cock, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s body which makes him twitch against her tongue. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against her cunt, finger curling before he adds a second one and fucks them into her. 

Her thighs are trembling from the sides of his head, locking him in slightly to stop him trying to move away. Y/N takes him deeper into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and Harry takes the hint to start bucking his hips into her. 

It’s filthy, the noises she makes, the way his cock jabs at the back of her throat. Her pussy grips his fingers like a vice, walls fluttering and he knows she’s close. With his spare hand, Harry strikes a smack to her ass, pawing at the fleshy skin before spanking her again. 

She’s positively dripping into his mouth, her body so worked up that she can barely keep consciousness. Her eyes are stinging with tears as he thrusts harsher, effectively restricting her air supply as he does so. 

But she’s never been so turned on in her life. Sixty-nine-ing with Harry in the pitch dark. 

“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.” 

He expects her to pull off him, but she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N forces her mouth further down and sucks, hand reaching between his thighs to massage his balls. 

He’s crying out her name as he releases, spurts of warm come shooting down her throat as her own orgasm rakes through her body. 

Harry laps it up the best he can, cock still buried down her throat as she comes around his fingers and drips into his mouth. She’s begging for him, whining his name as he removes his fingers and sucks them dry. 

She can feel him soften against her tongue, and with as much energy as she can muster up, she pulls off him with a heavy breath. 

“Y’okay?” 

She hums, a little floaty if she’s honest but it worked. It made her forget and now all she wants to do is sleep. 

“Mhm, thank you.”

Harry grins tiredly to himself, helping her off his chest and to lay back beside him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

“Let me get you some water.” 

Y/N watches him through bleary eyes as his cute, naked bum moves over to the desk across the room. He comes back, soft length still impressive, and hands the bottle to her with the cap undone. 

“Here, take a sip,” he guides the bottle to her lips and encourages her to drink before taking a swig for himself. 

Harry climbs into the bed beside her, arms outstretched and she’s quick to nuzzle into his hold. He strokes the hair from her face, keeping her close. 

“Get some sleep. I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

//

Rustling from outside the hotel room is what stirs Harry awake. He’s groggy as he blinks away the sleep, arms aching from Y/N’s head as she lays cuddled up to his chest.

His heart swells for a moment at the sight of her — and then he hears it again, the noise. There’s whispers and footsteps padding outside the door, three voices.

He’s careful when he stands, not wanting to wake Y/N if he’s just overreacting. But when he levels his eyes with the peephole of the door, his flight or fight kicks in and his heart thumps in his ears.

Harry pulls away from the peephole quickly, back against the door as he tries to remain as silent as humanly possible. Y/N stirs in the bed, reaching out for him but he’s not there to cuddle again.

Her eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as she slowly lifts her head from the pillow in search of him. That’s where she spots him, against the door with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Her mouth opens to speak, but she quickly shuts it when Harry brings a finger to his lips, signalling her to stay quiet. Her heart begins to thump again, bile in her throat and she’s frozen on the bed, sheets clutched close to her naked body.

“Let’s try upstairs,” he hears Ryce say, “They’re not on this floor.”

Harry waits a moment before turning his body to peek through the peephole again. They’re slowly sauntering off down the hall, clicking the button for the elevator and stepping inside shortly after. He turns back to Y/N, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Penny, get dressed. We need to leave, now.”

It’s a rush, to get dressed and throw everything haphazardly into Harry’s backpack. Their hearts patter wildly, breathing ragged as fear consumes the pair of them.

It’s frantic, how he looks at her, keeping her behind his back as he slowly opens the door to peek his head out. He scans the hall, straining his ears for any sound of movement and when he falls short, he very quickly and quietly tugs her out of the hotel room.

Harry leads them to the staircase, trainers skidding across the linoleum floors with every step they jump down.

“They found us, didn’t they?” she asks through laboured breaths.

He doesn’t reply, instead tightens his hold on her hand and forces her to move quicker, taking three steps at a time instead of two and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.

Harry pushes through the door of the stairs, not slowing as they race through reception and out into the cool air of the early morning. It’s then that they break into a sprint across the parking lot to reach Harry’s Chevy.

Then they hear footsteps, the door of the hotel building slamming shut. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the three lunatics that are after them.

They’re slowly approaching, picking up their pace as Harry and Y/N get closer to the car. He unlocks it from a distance and throws the backpack to Y/N.

He turns to her, finger pointing in her face. “Lock yourself in the car. If they get the upper hand, you drive and you don’t look back.”

The look on his face scares her, rattles her to her core. She tries to shake her head but Harry’s shoving the keys in the palm of her hand and pushing her closer to the vehicle.

The three of them grab him at once; Ryce and Scott holding him by the arms and shoulders as the bigger man, George, throws punches against his stomach. The sight of it makes her sick, has her knees buckling and heart aching.

Nimble fingers struggle to open the car, brain fuzzy as she rushes to throw the bags in the back seats. Y/N shuts the door behind her, locking the car again as her chest rises and falls with every shaky break she takes.

It’s torture, watching as they beat him – the way they pin his arms back and take advantage of his inability to fight back. He takes every hit and punch like a man, doesn’t allow his guard to falter no matter how hard the strikes may hurt.

And it’s like they see that, too. Like they notice it’ll take a lot more than a few blows to ruin him. Maybe that’s why George relents his assault for a moment and fixes his gaze to the car – to Y/N, cowering in the backseats like a lamb ready for slaughter.

And it’s when he slowly begins to stalk toward her that Harry’s heart begins to thump a little too hard. It’s when George starts to bash his hands against the backseat window that he starts to burn a fueling fire of rage.

He struggles against the hold that Scott and Ryce have over him, unable to tear his arms out of reach. Until he hears her scream and the backseat window smashing.

Y/N can’t breathe, heart lodged in her throat and tears stinging at her vision. She watches completely frozen as George reaches his hand in and unlocks the door. Watches the sadistic smirk that plasters across his lips as he opens the door and reaches for her ankles.

“No! Get off of me!”

Her screams are futile, her body breaking into hysterical movements. Her legs kick harshly at his grabbing hands, her foot striking his throat which allows her barely a few seconds to search for something, anything.

Y/N’s eyes avert to the footwell of the passenger's seat when she sees it. A crowbar. Her fingers wrap around the metal at the same time George’s wrap around her ankles. She’s pulled from the backseats, back crashing onto the concrete of the parking lot. And in one swift motion, her arm swings forward and the curve of the bar wraps around the side of George’s head.

In an instant, his heavy build falls off her – collapsing onto his side. She waits for a beat, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of life. There’s no blood, no sound. Tentatively and with trembling hands, she leans closer to his still body and poises her fingers beneath his nose.

One breath. Two, three.

She clambers away from him with a deep breath, unsteady as she rises to her feet. She’s allowed no time to process the situation, to calm herself. Because right before her eyes, Harry is fighting for his freedom.

This time, Ryce has Harry’s arms pinned behind his back, looping with his own and Scott delivers much harder blows to Harry’s face and torso. His legs kick out, arms thrashing in Ryce’s hold but it doesn’t do much damage.

Tightening her grasp around the crowbar, Y/N doesn’t quite know what comes over her. Whether it’s fear, anger or something entirely different. Whatever it is, compels her to swing the crowbar across the backs of Ryce’s legs – the shock and force of the blow buckling his knees just enough for his hold on Harry to relent.

Y/N doesn’t give him time to turn before she jumps onto his back with her legs around his waist and the crowbar wrapped around his throat. Her body moulds to his like a bear hug, an unknown strength unleashing itself in a desperate attempt to keep him from Harry just long enough to regain his strength.

And Harry doesn’t waste a moment of the opportunity. His fist beats against Scott’s face in rhythmic blows until his body is on the ground and he can’t fight back. Harry’s knuckles stain with blood and grazes, delivering a final pinch to the bridge of Scott’s nose before climbing off his bruised body.

His chest heaves, every breath feeling as though it tears his lungs. Harry spits the build up of blood in his mouth on the floor, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his fingers before they return to their fisted state.

Ryce is red in the face, fingers wrapping around the crowbar that Y/N pulls against his throat. The anger in her face is starling to Harry, something he’s never seen before — not even in himself. A hatred so pure it could kill.

Harry approaches them quickly as Ryce throws back his elbow and it meets with the side of Y/N’s stomach. All at once, her hold on the crowbar and him falters and she’s sliding off his back and doubling over on the concrete.

Ryce throws a punch but Harry is quick to dodge, despite the fact he’s still attempting to catch his breath. Before he rises, he reaches for the crowbar and swings it against the side of Ryce’s body.

He seethes out in pain, struggles to stand straight to fight back. He messily throws his fist, easier for Harry to dodge this time and he returns it with another blow across his knees with the crowbar.

Harry throws it to the side, watching with heavy breaths as Ryce tries to steady himself again. Harry doesn’t give him the chance. He squares his fist against the side of his face and he pummels to the ground.

It’s silent for a moment, aside from Harry’s rapid breathing and Y/N’s soft whimpers as she clutches her stomach and steadies herself on her feet again.

Harry backs away from the mess they’ve created, guilt crawling up his throat as he turns to look at her. There’s a cold expression painted across her face, eyes void of anything other than a predatory gaze.

She’s got the look of someone who’s desperate to survive. That’s what this is now, sink or swim. And she knows it.

They don’t share any words, just a look. But that’s all that’s needed. That one look says everything. They’re in this together — it’s them against anyone who tries it.

It’s silent as they both get into the car, Harry picking his keys up from the floor before he starts the engine.

It’s silent when they pull out of the car park, the sound of the cold air whipping through the shattered window in the backseats.

It’s silent until Y/N finally speaks. “Where are we going?”

Harry waits a beat, eyes focussed on the road. He can’t bring himself to look at her, to be faced with her expressionless gaze again. So he looks forward, grips the wheel and clears his throat.

“To see an old friend.”

//

His body is beginning to hurt as he pulls into the familiar garage. It’s been a while since Harry’s been here and everything looks the exact same as it did last time.

He kills the engine, lets his hands slip from the wheel and he finally turns to Y/N, who’s already looking at him. She takes him in, properly. The cuts and bruises that begin to form on his soft skin, the bags that protrude under his eyes from lack of sleep and a couple of punches he caught.

It hurts her heart to no end. She wishes none of this was happening.

“Are you okay?” he finally speaks, voice soft.

She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.

“Are you?”

He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”

She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.

It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.

Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”

Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.

Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.

Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.

“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.

Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”

A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.

“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”

Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”

Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”

A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.

“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”

He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”

She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.

Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”

There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”

Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.

“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.

Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”

Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.

They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”

Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”

Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.

She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.

She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.

A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”

Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.

“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”

She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”

He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”

While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.

So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”

//

It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.

Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.

She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.

Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.

They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.

“Hey, are you feeling any better?”

She hums. “A little.”

He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.

“It’s whis—“

She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.

He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.

Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”

She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”

“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.

“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”

She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”

He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.

“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.

Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“

“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.

Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”

“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.

The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.

“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”

There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?

“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.

Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.

Not now. Not ever.

“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).

But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.

“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”

She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.

And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”

She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.

All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”

He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”

It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?

The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.

Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.

They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.

He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.

Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”

Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.

“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”

Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.

She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.

Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”

He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.

“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”

She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.

Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.

The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.

She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.

Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.

Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.

“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.

“Yeah?”

She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.

And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”

The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.

“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”

The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.

“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.

“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”

She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.

Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.

Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.

The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.

And it’s not because Sam asked him to.

//

When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.

She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.

A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”

He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.

“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”

Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.

“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”

Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”

There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.

She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.

He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.

He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”

She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”

She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.

It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.

They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.

She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.

They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.

But they don’t see anything.

Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.

They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.

They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.

There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.

Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.

“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”

Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”

Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.

“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”

//

It’s been four days.

Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.

And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.

Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.

There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.

Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.

It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”

Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”

It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.

A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”

Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”

He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.

“Want me to go and take names?”

Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”

Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.

They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.

Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.

But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.

Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.

He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.

“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”

He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.

It’s Y/N. They’re here.

She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.

Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.

No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.

She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.

It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.

Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.

Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.

It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.

All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.

“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”

That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.

Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.

“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”

She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.

She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.

Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.

And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.

Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.

He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.

Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.

He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.

Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.

The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.

His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.

That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.

She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.

She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.

“Grab the money, we need to go.”

Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.

Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.

Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.

The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.

An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.

“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”

Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”

The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.

“Who’s they?”

“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”

Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”

“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”

Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?

Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”

Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”

Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.

Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.

He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”

He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.

“So, you say you’re the owners?”

Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.

“Do you have proof of that?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”

Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.

“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”

Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.

“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”

Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.

“Ouch… what was that for?”

She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”

He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.

Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.

There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.

The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.

“What?”

She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?

“What about the club?”

She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”

“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”

There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?

It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?

When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”

She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.

“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”

“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.

Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“

“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”

She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”

“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”

“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”

“It’s true!”

There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”

“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.

He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.

Everything but Harry.

“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”

“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.

But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.

If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.

He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.

“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”

//

Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Tags: @kissfromadove @stilesissaved @kiwitsayedsugar @savannahwendel @triski73 @stylesfever @babyyhoneyyy @theresnooneheretosave @ellaorchard @itsmytimetoodream @daphnesutton @matildasatellite

[nightgoodomens]

The Kate Winslet article you just posted made me finally go ahead and send you this ask. I don't think your David/Michael theories are very likely, just lurking for the drama. But it's absolutely hilarious how the naysayers point to the positive reception of Aziraphale/Crowley and use this as proof that David and Michael are happily partnered. Their logic is if they really wanted to be with each other then there would be no pushback from gay-friendly Hollywood.

But uh. David and Michael are well-known mainstream actors from way before Good Omens and the fandom doesn't represent media consumers in general. Do people not remember the massive uproar from the sizable religious-nuts contingent after Good Omens Season 1 dropped? Remember how casual cishet viewers in general insisted Aziraphale and Crowley being more than friends would be icky? Doctor Who fandom is STILL full of dudebro DT fans who acted like whiny pissbabies over Fourteen. Scifi incels and nostalgic boomers are probably a huge chunk of DW watchers!

I was into The Hobbit for a while. Personally I'm remembering Lee Pace and how he was forcibly outed because his orientation was seen as scandalous. Famous actor, gay-friendly Hobbit fandom, still made to feel small and dirty for his sexuality. Richard Armitage was closeted for years. Then there was the whole Ian McKellan outing his fellow actors thing. Ok, if media is so gay-friendly and the only reason Michael and David would get pushback is because they were cheating, why wouldn't they just use a narrative of "we didn't know about our sexuality until later in life and it's not our partners' faults, we're sorry?"

I'm not gonna deny that they probably have real love or at least genuine feelings for their partners. I just think the argument that there's nothing holding them back from being together if they really want to, therefore they don't want to, is full of plotholes.

Thanks for this, anon, that’s a lot of really good information. Even if you’re here only for the drama ;)

I will just add to it that both men spoke about the struggles they faced growing up too. Michael just very recently how he wouldn’t dare anything in 80s Port Talbot. David was in tears on his podcast, and also spoke about being called names. A lot of David’s podcasts were focused on coming outs where he was asking if it was worth it. Michael tweeted about being possibly outed by the Queen, asking if she has radical gay politics, talked about his first crush - who was a man - and how he processed it. Three times he mentioned him. Didn’t Anna RT a pic of him saying he’s bi (photoshop) and he liked it too? A man married/partnered to a woman doesn’t mean he is straight. And these men grew up in completely different environment than today and entertainment industry still has deep issues.

There are so many things that can be discussed and people can agree or disagree on, but suggesting that basically homophobia etc doesn’t exist is… so uneducated. How ignorant does a person need to be to everything that is happening around them to suggest nothing stops people from coming out and being themselves? That backlash doesn’t exist?

Sometimes, instead of shouting nonsense into the void, it is worth doing research and reading books.

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually likes loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines if forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to the its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[turndecassette2]

Is it ok if i can ask you how do you go about studying/drawing Heads and faces? i know this is a very broad questions but lets say you were coming up with a character for a new comic, when you go about creating characters what do you pay attention to the most and spend your time thinking about and make soure you got it right?

i love the way you draw faces, it dosnt feel anime and i love the little lines under the eye tear duck :D

Hope this question make sense!

Cilgia

(sorry re-reading your question this answer might be too rambl-y & off the mark. but am leaving this up in case someone finds it helpful)

I have a terrible tendency to just design characters 'on the page' since when I have a perfect sketch I tend to lose that 'look' once I get to the actual comic. idk the 'drawing academy' in viborg had us do a lot of portraits of each-other (you can prob recruit friends/relatives for this if you have any) & when I have time I like to draw ppl at cafés and such, so I have a mental library of face shapes.

in general: like w everything else I think it's good to hoard reference eg models, sports guys etc that have fun faces. put them in a folder on your computer for when you need a nose, good set of eyebrows etc. I've had various folders like this that inevitably get lost when my computer dies ha ha

also just referencing for vibes:

tiger guy from 'world heist' was conceptualised as part corto maltese, part jason momoa as duncan idaho, or my mental image of what the latter would look like, + a vague memory of rob lucci the cat man from one piece (I can't believe I know the names of so many OP characters. or dune characters for that matter)

but then in the end, he's just some guy, & he mostly looks good in profile

drawing the same person several times is hard. I need to standardise his facial markings but no-one seems to care.

'task' meanwhile is kinda a flatmate I had in college but w hair that I wanted to feel a bit 'rey ayanami' but also whatever I imagine a 'hacker' looks like (the cute kind you get in movies, not irl). just messy (ignore my presence in the below photo)

anyways if there's some trick to what I do it's having a wide range of influences

[boothillssugarmomma]

🎤Dιϝϝҽɾҽɳƚ SαႦɾιɳα Cαɾρҽɳƚҽɾ Sσɳɠʂ Aʂ Hσყσ ɱҽɳ🎤

🎀 A/N: I've been SO OBSESSED with Sabrina's new song 'Please Please Please' and omfgg I just love her music all around! So here's some of the boys as a few of her songs

ALSO I KNOW TEYVAT DOESN'T USE PHONES BUT IDC DEAL WITH IT (respectfully)

If I mis categorized anyone lemme know 🙏

𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 🙏

'𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝑔𝑜'𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇

𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇, 𝑜𝒽

𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒'

Dating your new boyfriend was such a dream, he's so kind...so precious...BUT...he wasn't exactly a ROLE MODEL or an amazing guy to everyone. But you have a great sense of judgement, and you obviously have great taste...or at least you think so. Dating him was one thing...but telling people? WHOOO boy...when you did end up telling your friends about him...it stirred up quite a lot of drama.

"You sure he's good for you?" Your best friend sighs deeply as she holds your shoulders. Your friends were gathered around you hoping to knock some sense into you.

"I promise...he's sweet and a great guy..." You sigh softly as your best friend stares disapprovingly.

"We're just saying...he's...not exactly...what we thought you'd go for..." Your other friend hesitates as she talks, glancing at your third friend for him to back her up.

The quiet friend grimaces before clearing his throat. "He's...a...interesting guy...(Name)"

Your eyes narrow before you scoff. "You guys just don't know hi-" You cut off as your phone dings.

Your best friend grabs it and rolls her eyes at the message. "Oh get a LOAD of THIS!" She hands the phone to you.

It's your boyfriend...your wonderful...lovely...man who you'd never give up. Even if your friends think you should.

'Hey babe...sorry but I'm running a little late...ran into a little problem. But don't worry... I'll be there. Wouldn't wanna make your friends dislike me more than they already do...'

'Oh and I love you'

'See you soon ❤️'

You sigh at the text, face flushing a bit.

"Don't prove them right..."

-Aventurine, boothill, SAMPO, Gallagher, SUNDAY, Danslief, blade, CHILDE, Wanderer, itto, Lyney, Kaeya, SCARAMOUCHE

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

ᏋᏕᎮᏒᏋᏕᏕᎧ ☕

'𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃' '𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝑜𝒽...𝐼𝓈 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉? 𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝑜...𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅, 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜'

Waking up in the morning without your boyfriend was hard...but sometimes he just was busy and couldn't stay over that night.

But waking up to his little messages? His love paragraphs or his small thoughts about you?

And even throughout the day, he also sent messages.

Those were the best...

You could say you had him wrapped around your finger to be honest. He could never get enough of you.

'God I wish you were here honey...'

'I miss you already ❤️'

'I want to skip (work, travels, missions, etc) and just come home to you...'

'I can't sleep...'

'I can't stop thinking about you my love...'

'I keep thinking about you every night and all day...'

And finally after his long day, he enters your shared home with an exhausted and fairly pouty look.

"You ok honey?" You hum softly as you get up from the couch where you were sitting.

His eyes meet yours and immediately soften.

"Cmere...couldn't stop missing you!" He whispers with a bit of desperation as he quickly rushes to hug you.

"Feel so much better already...so energetic..." He mumbles as he nuzzles into your neck.

"You're like a little shot of espresso~" He teases softly in your ear before kissing your forehead.

"That's me, your espresso..."

-ARGENTI, dan heng, Gepard, JING YUAN, diluc, CHILDE, XIAO, Neuvillette, aether, chongyun, Zhongli, Bennett, WRIOTHESLEY, THOMA, freminent, Gaming

☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕

ƒεαƭɦε૨ 🪶

'𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 (𝒶𝒽), 𝐹𝓁𝑜𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 (𝒶𝒽)'

Dumping him was the BEST idea you've ever had when it came to him. Not having to worry about where he is every night, why he was always so busy, even when you knew he wasn't.

The lies, the coverups, his pathetic excuses.

All

Gone

And you couldn't be happier. You didn't have to pretend he was the best guy in the world, you didn't have to pretend to like whatever he did, didn't have to pretend you were ok with his lies.

It's been over a year now, you're dating one of your best friends, and you knew your life was set!

But your ex wouldn't leave you alone!

He's STILL calling and texting and trying to get back in. He shows up everywhere, your work, your house, your boyfriend's house, your friends houses, trying to get you to take him back.

He just KNEW you were making a mistake, it has to be, he loved you so much...just realized it a bit too late!

"(Name)! We're meant to be together it has to be now stop acting foolish!" He catches up to you one night after work on your walk home.

You scoff softly, ignoring the male as he pants beside you.

"Then tell me why I feel lighter than a damn feather without you on my mind?" You hum, a bitter tone in your voice.

His eyes show a flash of hurt before he huffs. "Because you just don't understand how you feel!"

You roll your eyes, continuing to walk, trying to get away from him.

"Baby I want you back, please!" He whimpers a bit.

"I've told you multiple times, we're done!" Your patience is running thin, and this it not how you wanted to spend the evening.

"But I miss you!" He tries to reach for your hand.

"No duh, you should've thought about that!" You growl.

"But honey think about us...all the memories...how much we cared about each other?" He pleads.

You stop walking before turning to him.

"Thinking about our memories would be a waste of time..."

-VENTI, Kaeya, Boothill, Aventurine, gallagher, Kaveh, ITTO, xingqiu, dr ratio, Ayato, albedo, CHILDE

🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

do you have any major ninjago fandom pet peeves? or am i just being overly weird for having some?

No youre not weird I have many too lol

- designs for the main ninja where they're all either white or pale. Its sort of sus to me when people make kai tan(ish) but not nya. Like, why? (<- the answer is colorism. Obviously the prettly girl is pale but the angry guy is tan(ish) ). Also hate when the only tan or darkskinned one is Cole (and hes usually sort of grey).

- 'girlboss' nya where shes dumbed down to 'strong woman character' which is a thiny vieled 'shes the mom of the group' fanonization ngl. Nya is strong and capable, angry and opinionated but none of that is actually captured in the baseless trope applied to her. I see it a lot in fanon Jaya and it bugs the shit out of me.

- misako slander/hate, its literally just misogny. Barely anyone talks about Garmadon the same way.

- lava shippers who feel the need to bring up lava on geode posts. Or lava shippers who hate on geode or geo in general I find incredibly annoying. Another thing is when some of them act like lava was Ever gonna be canon like. Broski, when and where did you find evidence of that?

- fanon jay like. Entirely.

- on a similar note, fanon bruise. I hate haaate the yaoi-topification of Cole lol. I find bruise's dynamic, both platonic or romantic, fancinating and its frustrating to see them so dumbed down.

- big hater of the idea that Jay has to short or cole has to be tall or this or that.

- wu haters die by my blade. Wu's tries so fucking hard and is flawed but apparently people can't view a character in full. Whatever.

- I incredibly dislike woobified morro. Espicially when people make his actions seem less bad or less his choice in a mock way to make him seem more "redeemable." I find it funny that people can't seem to accept that their fav is a bad person and/or did bad things. Recongizing that doesn't make him any less "worthy" of redemption. That's not really how redemption works, at least in my mind.

Ok thats all I can think of rn so hating session over

[thezombieprostitute]

Just needed to write something. Inspired by @navybrat817's post about being taken away so you don't have to work.

Alpha left unnamed so you can picture your own grumpy/protective man.

This was entirely written on my phone. Apologies for errors.

+++++

You've been having a rough day. Your clothes weren't fitting right, that tag kept itching your neck. Your nerves were on edge. You were certain everyone was noticing all of your flaws. Goodness knows you were pointing all of them out to yourself.

Work is only making things worse. It's turning a lot of your nervous energy into anger and frustration. Heaven forbid your boss check her own notes or your co-workers fix their own mistakes.

Worst of all, you've closed off your bond so you don't bother Alpha with everything. That source of love and support cut off because you can't return his energy today and don't want him worrying about you. You make sure to text him, assuring him it's just a bad day and you'll talk when you're both home.

Then someone steals your lunch and, for the briefest second, you send all your sadness and anger through the bond. You quickly work to get it back under control as you try to not cry on your way to the vending machines.

About 30 minutes later there's a text from Alpha, "I'm downstairs. You're going home with me." You text back that you'll be ok. That you need to finish your work day.

A minute after you send that message you get a call from the front desk. The receptionist is clearly nervous, "there's a very big, very upset Alpha here saying he's here to pick you up for lunch?"

"I can confirm he's my Alpha," you sigh. "But I've already had my lunch. Maybe send him up?" Perhaps of you can get in some physical contact it'll help both you.

The receptionist wasn't wrong, Alpha is looking very upset. And everyone in the office is steering clear. As soon as you're in reach, he's pulling you into his arms, scenting you. You're able to let go of some of the day's stress with his help.

Your boss coughs to get your attention. "Unless there's been a change in your heat/rut cycles, this behavior is not allowed. This is a workplace, not a therapy session."

Alpha stands up to his full height and your boss takes a step back. "I guess that means she'll have to find a better job elsewhere." He grabs your bag and packs the few personal belongings you've got.

"Alpha, you can't do this," you protest weakly.

"My Omega is hurting and this place is just making it worse. So yes, I'm doing this." He grabs your hand and pulls you to the elevator. As much as you want to protest, you just don't have the energy.

And, really, you don't want to stop him. You just want him to get you home so he can take care of you, protect you, and everything else your inner Omega is begging for right now.

You open up the bond again and Alpha looks at you with a smile at your feelings of relief, gratitude and love.

+++++

So who did you picture for your Alpha?

Tagging @alicedopey; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[eggroll-sama]

THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THE LI

This is purely self-indulgent and just based on stuff that makes me go, “it’s them!” when it’s unrelated to them. But here you go and hope you like it. To make it sound more accurate, I replaced the nouns to fit Touchstarved cast.

AIS

Tyler Durban and Edward Norton from the FIGHT CLUB— “How much can you know about yourself if you’ve never been in a fight?” “Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer,” “Only after you’ve lost everything you’re free to do anything.” “We are the same person.”

The song, ‘I Remember You’ from ADVENTURE TIME— “I can feel myself slipping away, I can’t remember what it made me say, but I remember that I saw you frown, I swear it wasn’t me…And I need to save you, but who's going to save me? Please forgive me for whatever I do, when I don’t remember you.”

The punk from FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF. I can just see Ais at a police station, giving advice to a pretty stranger, and end up making out with them.

This scene (warning: graphic violence and gore) from ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD. It’s just so Ais and Princess-coded

VENOM, enough said.

KURAS

The murder-mystery film, THE DA VINCI CODE. I feel like Kuras would love the movie if it existed in his world since it’s canon that he likes trashy murder mysteries.

The song, ‘No Good Deed Goes Unpunished’ from WICKED— “[MC] where are you? Already dead, or bleeding? One more disaster I can add to my Generous supply…No good deed goes unpunished. No act of charity goes unresented. No good deed goes unpunished. That’s my new creed.”

GONE WITH THE WIND— “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” This line was controversial when released in 1939 because swear words weren’t normalized. I feel like Kuras, like this movie, rarely swears but when he does, the whole room goes silent and you know shit’s about to go down. Also according to the RSS radial chart, Kuras has low empathy plus maxed out strength high wisdom, damn at some point that man might legit not give a damn-

MAQUIA: WHEN THE PROMISED FLOWER BLOOMS— “you smell weird, you smell like the sun;” “If you fall in love, you will truly become alone.” Contextually the line is about how an immortal should never get too close with mortals because they'll one day they’ll die, and it fits Kuras a lot.

HUNTER X HUNTER 2011—“[MC] you are light. Sometimes, you shine so brightly, I must look away. But even so, is it still ok to stay by your side?” I love the idea of an angel heavily associated with the sun (Prometheus, likes sunny days, radiates heat), finds someone that is the light of their life.

ONE PIECE— “I have seen the future of this country. And it is destruction. As long as [the Senobium] remains here, this country can never be cured, because even if medical technology progresses, even if [alchemical] research continues… there is no cure for stupidity.”

OPPENHEIMER. After I watched the movie all I could think about was Kuras doing the blank eye stare at the end of the movie.

LEANDER

Goob from MEET THE ROBINSONS (he’s literally just child Leander in the modern world ;o;)

Michael Scott from THE OFFICE— “I wanna be married and have 100 kids so I can have 100 friends and no one can say no to being my friend,” “it’s not about the horniness, it’s about the loneliness”

The painting, Death of Sardanapalus, by Eugene Delacroix. King Sardanapalus palace is besieged by enemies and he decides to commit suicide after he learns of the army’s defeat, but not before ordering his men to destroy all his favorite possessions- wives, horses, pages, and dogs. He’d rather his valuables all be destroyed than his enemies own them. King Sardanapulus selfishness is humane, but the extremity’s he would go to keep what is his is monstrous.

GASTON from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST— Gaston and Leander both have similar vibes. They’re both trusted and well-liked by most people, viewed as heroes, are human but are monsters on the inside, overconfident, attractive, has a possessive streak, hangs out in bars, nice singing voice. The main difference is that Gaston doesn’t try to act like a nice guy like Leander Fake ahhh

The song ‘Burn’ from HAMILTON— “Do you know what [Vere] said when we saw your first letter arrive? [He] said, be careful with that one, love, he will do what it takes to survive…Do you know what [Kuras] said when [he] read what you’d done? [He] said, you’ve married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.”

Michael Corleone from the GODFATHER.

Sampo from HONKAI STAR RAIL— I barely know anything about Honkai Starrail, but I was going to an anime goods store with my friend and one look at him made me think of Leander. My friend gave me a run down that he betrays you for money and runs away and unironically I could see Leander throwing us under the bus.

VERE

This scene from the movie, MALENA. Vere is heavily desired by men and women alike, but his flirty and fickle personality is just a front to protect himself. And he hates how people see him as a pretty face or someone who needs saving from the Senobium. Tbh Malena herself just reminds me of Vere’s problem of how being pretty is a double edged sword. People see you’re pretty, so they feel threatened or idealize you. You feel extremely lonely bc people are distracted by your beauty and won’t try to understand you intimately. So you either own it and be alone OR assimilate and have friends. Vere is the former.

Madonna-Whore Complex. This article explains it pretty well, “The Madonna Whore Complex (MWC) is a psychological complex often perpetuated by heterosexual, cisgender males which places women into two categories the “Madonna, a woman who is pure, virtuous, and nurturing, or a “Whore,” a woman who is deemed as overly sexual, manipulating, and promiscuous. The dichotomy of MWC creates a rigidity that limits women’s sexual expression, agency, and freedom by defining their sexuality into one of two categories.” Vere is the latter.

Ymir from ATTACK ON TITAN. Both of them were self-proclaimed deity, was caught lying (presumably), and paid for it. Their personalities are similar too except Vere masks himself through innuendos.

The song, ‘The Red Means I Love You’ by Madds Buckley— “The red on my face is matching you. And goodness, you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling. You're down and you're pleading, my head is just reeling. The red means I love you. Tasting your blood means I love you.” (I can’t see Vere becoming a yandere because he’s already deranged)

MHIN

Another line from ONE PIECE —“Someday I will become too much of a burden. Someday you’ll betray me and cast me aside.”

SHUTTER ISLAND— “What would be worse, to live as a monster or die as a good [person]?” Mhin hates monsters ironically since they are one, and I could see them nearing the time limit where their curse becomes permanent and decides that maybe it’s better to die with their humanity than live forever as a monster.

The Beast from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. I already said this in another post but like IMAGINE THE AU. AHHHHHH

Felix from LAST LEGACY but more depressed.

Disclaimer: we don’t know much about Sen or Elyon yet so I don’t have much.

ELYON

THE GREAT GATSBY— “…can't you see who this guy is, with his house and his parties and his fancy clothes? He is just a front, a gangster, to get his claws into respectable folk…(to Elyon) We're all different from you. You see, we were born different. It's in our blood. And nothing that you do or say or steal... or dream up can ever change that.”

SEN

Unfortunately I don’t have any for Sen. Her design reminds me of Frankenstein’s creature tho.

BONUS:

MC

This scene from SHAPE OF WATER. MC falls in love with a monster and trying to save them from danger. MC knows that they are also an outsider, a monster. Being with the LI’s feels like they were finally accepted for who they are, regardless of their curse, so they can’t abandon them— “When they looks at me…the way they looks at me, they don’t know what I lack. How I am incomplete...and now I can either save them or let them die.” I think this quote can also be interpreted as the players choosing a route, essentially dooming the other players if we don’t choose them.

Famous line from 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU— “but mostly I hate how I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” The fact that us as players will keep coming back to them, replaying their routes even though they killed us, and obsessing over them. Yes they suck but we still love them.

This quote from Green Mile— “ I’m tired…I'm tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with.” I think this quote really emphasizes how touch-starved MC is, and how alone they feel from being betrayed by people they cared about in the past (also sparrow name drop ^-^)

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl - part 2

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!

Word Count: 2995.

Part 1

Notes: should I do another part? Would anyone be interested in a part 3?

You make your way to a new Earth, with a quick search you find out that the DEO is still active. Lena works for them and Supergirl doesn’t, which makes way more sense than the other way around.

“Hey, there you are!” One of the agents greets you with a lab coat with your name on it. “Ms. Luthor is waiting for you in lab 3.”

“Oh, I’m not —“ you breathe deep. “Heh, you know what? Whatever. Which way?”

“Lab 3?” He repeats as if you’re supposed to know. Then points in a direction when he draws no reaction from you. “That way.”

“Thanks!” You put on the lab coat that clearly doesn’t belong to you, and follow the direction he pointed to. “Hey Lena!”

“Oh.” Lena says, not looking up from the experiment before her. “Look who is finally on time!”

“No one’s ever complained about my tardiness before.” You complain half to yourself, half to Lena.

“Not to your face.” Her response comes quickly and you roll your eyes to it. "Take your place, please." She looks at the chair and you make your way there.

"So, why do I have a lab coat with my name on it? I'm not a scientist."

"God, no. Thank God, no." Lena says and you roll your eyes at her one more time, unamused. "You're my guinea pig."

"Cute." You already don't think this will be your favorite Lena.

Lena throws one look back at you, then clicks something on her computer. She looks at the cameras and you follow her gaze to see they no longer have a red light on, so that probably means she shut them down. "Did either J'onn or Kara see you coming in?"

"No."

"Does Alex know where you are?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Great." Lena turns around, straddling your lap, and she holds you face with both hands before kissing you so hard, you're almost left with no air inside you. 

"Wait, wait." You try while she kisses down your neck, and her hands make way under your shirt. "I'm not your Y/N! I'm not –" Your brain refuses to work while her cold fingers slide on your bare skin. "I'm from a different universe!"

Lena takes her face from the crook of your neck and looks at you in disbelief. "Is this another excuse for us not to make out anymore?" She sounds uninterested. "Are you feeling bad for Alex again?"

"Why would I feel bad for Alex?" 

"Because she is your wife?" Comes in the form of a question. Like a duh.

"WHAT!" You push Lena from your lap and stand up in a hurry. "I'm married in this universe and you and I –"

You look disgusted, but Lena just stares at you like she is waiting for your tantrum to be over. "We're horrible people!"

"Ok. Ok. I see what's happening. Alex did something sweet and now you want to break things off and then in a couple of days you're gonna call me again." She sounds nonchalant about it, and you're almost throwing up while hearing it. 

"Oh no." You hold back the vomit on your mouth. "Hell no. I can't be stuck in this. I'm gonna get far away from you. You and Y/N from this Earth are both disgusting and messed up. I hope you know this." You take off the lab coat that doesn't belong to you and run so fast, you miss your counterpart walking in the DEO at the exact same time.

You land on a different Earth. It takes you a lot more investigation to find out where Lena is, and it's almost as if she is hiding. But you're a good reporter, you know Lena pretty well, so you manage to find her in a secret lab.

"Hey Lena." You have a smile on your face that soon fades when a gun is pointed to your head.

"You have ten seconds to tell me how you found me here, before I kill you." Lena's expression at you tells you she is not joking. She really means it.

"Shit. Wrong Earth. Wrong Earth." You fumble with your ring and thank God you get out of that place in less than ten seconds.

By the tenth trip it has gotten easier. Find Lena. Check if she doesn't hate you; if one of you is not married; if you two are actually gay; if the thought of you together doesn't make her gag. Explain who you are. Ask for advice. Get out of it empty handed. 

Everything becomes a blur, and your memories start to merge the different worlds together. The many Lenas you've met seem so different that none of them resemble your Lena anymore. In fact, the confusion in your mind grows so intense that you begin to forget what your Earth and your Lena truly look like. But you won't quit.

You arrive in yet another world. You've seen it all. Earths where Lena doesn't love you, ones that she is straight, others she is with Kara, and in some you and her are together. Though those weren't exactly helpful. If anything, they added to your confusion and desperation. Are you ever gonna get the girl?

In this reality, Lena is the head of CatCo, making her your boss—a less than ideal situation, to say the least. You drag your sorry ass one more time, to face yet another disappointment, you're sure.

"Y/N!" Lena smiles when you wander into her office. It's late, most employees have left already, but there's a handful of people still preparing to leave. "I thought you had called a day." She looks at her watch. "A couple of hours ago."

You wait, is there a kiss coming your way? Are you going to stop it before it happens this time or are you going to pretend you don't want it to happen after it does? The kiss doesn't come. This Lena is waiting on your response from the exact same place, which probably means you two aren't together in this universe.

You collapse onto her beige couch, letting out a huge sigh. You're so tired of this hopeless crusade. Perhaps you and Lena were never meant to end up together. Maybe the versions of you that actually got the girl are a fluke. Glitches in the system.

"Darling," She comes closer. "are you ok?"

"No. God, no. I'm not ok." You raise your head to see Lena's worried features, while she hovers over you. "Before I say anything, I need to warn you I'm not your Y/N. I'm from another Earth, and this is probably the 15th one that I visited so far. So I'm exhausted and far from ok, and I just want to cry."

Lena blinks. Green eyes framed with dark eyeliner, pink lips slightly open, so confused. Her straight, dark hair falls around her face, and you can't help but to steal a look at her incredibly inappropriate cleavage for show.

"Just call your Y/N if you don't believe me."

"No, I –" She sits next to you, calmly. "I believe you." Lena purses her lips, staring at your watery eyes. "So, how come you want to cry?"

You blink your tears away. "I love you." You breathe out. "Well, not you exactly. But you, from my Earth. But you don't love me back, and I've been everywhere trying to find one universe where it all worked out. Where you didn't love me, but I could – I somehow won you over." The tears are now streaming down your face without your control, and you don't even bother cleaning them. She stares at you with wide eyes. "But what if you and I are never supposed to work? What if Lena is never supposed to love me back?" Your breath shudders and you can't barely get your words out. "What if this is it?"

Lena licks her lips, unable to respond. You're unsure of the endgame here; you're merely using this Lena to finally unload your emotions.

"How do I just bury this feeling so deep down, when it wants nothing but to exist?"

The question falls heavy from your mouth. Loaded with more than heartbreak and it can be felt from the way your words sound. Lena feels it too. Surely, the whole world would be able to feel it. 

"You don't." She whispers back and you startle with the sound of her voice. You didn't think she would answer. "Y/N, I –" Lena breathes deep, gathering all of her courage. "I love you too. Well, you know what I mean. But on this Earth, you and Kara are dating."

"Yikes." Not yikes as in gross, but also, yes somewhat. Because you and Kara? That's weird and absurd and like dating a sister. But also yikes, cause you've landed on a universe where Lena loves you but she also didn't get the girl. "I'm sorry. I guess the last thing you needed was me crying on your couch about how much I love you."

She chuckles, looking up to hold back the tears. "God, this is so surreal." She turns to you like she's telling a secret. "I bought this company for you."

"Oh! You did that for Kara in my universe." You give her a watery laugh. "That's so very Lena of you." After a moment's thought, you lean in with a whispered revelation yourself. "I almost killed your brother to defend you. And trust me, I don't kill."

"Yeah, you – you did that for Kara here." 

You and Lena fall into a weird silence. You notice from the corner of your eye that a few tears started falling on her face and you make a move to clean it up. She holds her breath to it, and her eyes flutter closed when your thumb brush softly against her skin.

She is not your Lena, but God, do they look the same, sound the same, and even smell the same. She is everything your Lena is, plus one huge difference: she is in love with a Y/N.

"I have an idea." You whisper, not to startle her, then move your finger away.

She doesn't open her eyes to whisper back, "Please, don't say Parent Trap."

"Hey!" You defend yourself earning a heartly laugh from her end. "Parent Trap is always a solid idea."

Lena looks at you fondly, while trying to sound annoyed. "God, Y/N."

"No, that wasn't it." You actually defend yourself this time, and she sits up straighter, looking at you curiously. "I love you and you love me. Sounds like an easy fix."

"No." Her voice comes as if she is talking to a toddler. "I love you from this universe, and you love me from your universe. We're all different individuals."

"Not that different. You knew I could say the Parent Trap idea, you bought a company for someone you love and I almost killed for someone I love." She only blinks at you in utter disbelief. "Oh, come on. You're still Lena! You're absurdly smart, and beautiful. You call me darling, and laugh when I say something silly. And I am still me, I'm –" You can't find the words to describe yourself.

"You're a bright light everywhere you step in. You're the only one that makes me laugh so hard. You're the most charming person I've ever met, and you have terrible ideas and try to pass them off as good." You laugh when she says that. 

"What? I don't –"

"You've been to 15 different Earths just to find a way to make your Lena love you, instead of just talking to her about it."

"Yeah, whatever. Like you're so perfect being filthy rich and buying companies as a form of love." She chuckles again and you stare at her with renewed intent. "Come on, it's not that crazy. We can find out the differences between our counterparts, but I doubt there's anything you've done that would make me stop loving you."

"My scientist mind says this is the craziest thing someone has ever told me."

"But the stupid part that made you fall in love with me, says…"

Lena inhales deep, then lets it all out in one breath. "That I'd die for your kiss."

You've kissed many Lenas from different universes. Short and sweet kisses, big and passionate ones, and completely wrong ones as well. You can help that your heart beats almost out of your chest in anticipation for this one. This Lena, she's so much like the one you fell for, but there's an ineffable quality about her, something more. Without even a kiss, you sense that if she isn't the one for you as well, then no other Lena will ever be.

The office is bathed in a soft, dim light. The last employee left a few minutes ago, leaving you both in an oddly calm, private CatCo. You draw Lena's face close to you, feeling her hold her breath in sync with yours.

"What if this is it?" Lena asks and you realize she has different worries than yours. But you know, regardless of the uncertainty – whether this is going to be it, or not – the only way to have the answer is by kissing her.

The moment seems to stand still, as the question reveals to be the answer itself. Time stretched out so thin through the space between your lips. And you smile to yourself as the gap between you two doesn't feel insurmountable anymore. 

Lena closes the distance. It feels impossible to believe that you two haven't known each other all your lives, when the dance of your lips and tongues moves in perfect harmony. The kiss is explosive and urgent, as if it has been in the making for years. Breathless, desperate, and exploratory. It's everything, and it's only the start.

You part your lips, staring at her from so close the only thing you can look at is her glossy eyes. "I'll die." She whispers so close to your mouth you're sharing the same breath. "I'll die a little death if I can't have you again."

The floor seems to open under you, as your heart flies to your mouth beating so fast it's ringing loudly in your ears. And you cease to exist in many universes to just exist right here, in this moment.

This is it. This is love. The love you've been jumping around from one universe to another to find. The love you've been dying to have and you know it. You shared one kiss and you are sure of it.

Lena swallows a tear, a question, a whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind as she kisses you again. Then again. And each kiss becomes more passionate, more certain. It's so right it binds you two deeper and stronger at every lip and tongue and breath shared. It can't be undone. 

Lena has a million questions and you know that, can see it in her eyes, and God you have them too. How can you erase your histories? Is it as easy as this? As easy as sharing a kiss so right that defying the boundaries of many universes cease to matter? 

But you know, God, you know it's just the start. It's the start of a chain reaction that makes your heart feel alive and complete. It doesn't matter anymore if she is your Lena, because she is the Lena.

"How will this even work?" she whispers against your lips, but deep down, you both know—it will work, it must work. Nothing can stop it now.

"I don't know. God, I don't care." You answer between kisses, your breathless words expressing a certainty that defies logic. "I just know it will."

It's many, many kisses later that you both fall into a less desperate silence, tangled up in each other's arms as if this is the 100th time you've found yourselves in this position. You don't have to talk to know you're both thinking the same thing. How will this work?

"I have an idea." Your eyes widen and you untangle yourself from your place on her chest, so you can look into her eyes.

"Here we go again." She jokes lightly, but you know she trusts this idea will be just as good as the last one.

"I've been to one universe where I didn't exist. I don't know what happened to me there. If I was never born or if I'd died. But you existed and Kara was your best friend, and all of you would work in a Tower, and there was this guy Brainy, instead of Winn… Anyways." You stop your ranting when you realize you're getting a little side tracked. "I'm sure there's one Earth out there where both you and I don't exist. We could just –"

"Go to another world and start fresh. No two of you, no two of me. Just you and I making a name for ourselves." Lena completes and you smile at her, happy she understood exactly where you were going with this.

"I mean, you're stupidly smart and I have powers. Surely we can make a life for ourselves anywhere." You stop yourself when an idea crosses your mind. No, not anywhere. You smile. "And I know just where."

"You would do that?" Lena blinks, her question isn't coming from a place of confusion. She knows you would do exactly that and some more. The question is coming from a place of complete adoration.

"I'm dying to believe that you won't be the death of me." She kisses you one more time to be sure. And it's obvious. Every single time it's even more fated.

"What about everyone else on our Earths? Wouldn't we miss them?"

You show her your ring. "Have a portal –"

"Will travel." She completes it.

Yeah. This one. This one is your Lena.

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Gathers up the courage to send an ask

Since you are the creator for the blueprint of Yandere PM! Dazai, I gotta ask (because this is my all-time favorite concept with Yandere Dazai and I need to get out of my writing funk)...

How would he react to his darling falling in love or forming a close relationship with someone else? BUT that someone else isn’t a nobody Ex. Chuuya, Akutagawa, Oda, or Kouyou. 

Like every second you are away from him, you are with the other person. Maybe going out of your way to avoid him and go to this other person. Dazai can clearly see that you aren’t being just friendly and it looks like the other person reciprocates your feelings.

However Dazai realizes that it wouldn’t be so simple as to just force you back with him or punish you since you’ve got yourself a new white knight.

Ex:

Chuuya, being someone not afraid to deck Dazai in the face, would be rightfully disgusted regarding Dazai’s behavior and would probably try to get you permanently away from the bandaged freak. And kiss you just to stick it to Dazai.

Akutagawa… ok y’all would be screwed if Dazai found out about you both but the relationship would be super sweet. LET AKUTAGAWA BE HAPPY!!

Oda needs no further explanation. Dazai actually likes and respects Oda so if he is telling Dazai to stop then maybe the suicidal dickhead would consider that he is going too far.

Kouyou is a debatable choice considering that she is a bit scared of Dazai and she is a tad like a yandere herself, but if you are important enough to her she might get you a job under her command so she can protect you during Port Mafia work hours. (she operates the Port Mafia brothels so do with that what you will)

Jesus this was a lot...

One of biggest differences between PM!Dazai and ADA!Dazai is the treatment of their darling.

PM!Dazai is way more clingy than ADA!Dazai. Dazai has you bounded to him 24/7, you're rarely alone. If you were to get close and fall in love with someone that wasn't Dazai, it'd have to be someone who's around him often.

It doesn't necessarily need to be someone like Chuuya, who's always working with Dazai, but instead it just needs to be someone who's in his presence often.

It started off with glances from across the room, but now it's become flirting with just your eyes alone. Dazai picked up on what was going on pretty fast, and this is where he thinks you've forgotten just how ruthless he is.

He'd bring you down to a room where your lover is tied to a chair, their mouth gagged as a cloth was placed over their eyes.

One of Dazai's favorite forms of torture is having someone hurt their loved ones. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for you, he just got his suit cleaned, so you'll have to be doing it.

All he'd do is hand you a crowbar and say one word, "Hit."

After a swift hit to the gut, you end up bursting into tears, saying that you couldn't hurt them.

This is when Dazai's true nature comes out.

Any amusement Dazai had is now placed with annoyance and disappointment, Dazai pulls at your hair, lifting you off the floor.

"If you don't fucking bash his brains in, it won't just him going out in a body bag."

Throwing you back down onto the floor, you reluctantly give the few more blows, the final blow causing you to collapse onto the floor before bursting out into tears.

"Good job," Dazai said in a sickeningly soft tone, patting your head before forcing you look up him. The coldness in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. "If you ever cheat on me again, I'll make you someone else's bitch."

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for telling people I don’t work here?

Ok so it’s Saturday morning and I (28M) don’t have a lot on my mind, besides like maybe lunch, I’m a little hungover so I go to the supermarket really to just get out of the house. Then suddenly this woman approaches way to fast and her eyes are intense And she spits on me a little as she asks, “where do you keep the pasta?” and I’m confused but I try to be polite so I say, “I dunno aisle 3?” And then she demands get it for her! I just stand there for a moment because I was just trying to get a Gatorade and I don’t want to deal with this, but then she rolls her eyes and I kind of lose it. 

So I tell her, “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not sell you shit!” And then I say, ”Maybe should work here so I can hide all the things you want from you!” and, “If I did work here do you think I’d be wearing a dirty white singlet? Ya fool!” Then I noticed the pasta was there the whole fucking time so I tell her, “Silly me I’ve had the pasta all along. Fuck you” and she starts crying. 

So now it’s the afternoon and I’m not going to lie, I feel really great about making a middle age woman cry today. So I’m taking a walk on the hot sand on the beach and decide to take a rest in the shade of the lifeguard tower (and my foresight readies me for melee) so then this man runs up from the surf way to fast, with a bluebottle across his chest he shakes me as he asks “you’ve got to save my kid!” But I can’t swim, so I tell him that, and he gets all upset and goes “what kind of a kid guard are you then?” And I’m tired and just wanted to take a nap but he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.

And I tell him “Hey! I don’t work here but if I did I would not save your kid!” And then I tell him “maybe I should work here that way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you” and I tell him “do you think a life guard would make a race car out of sand then fall asleep?” And then I get a bit sidetracked thinking about how I should probably get a job and I guess I’m mumbling because the guy asks if I was thinking about saving his son and I tell him no and he says “What about my son, he's drowning?!” Then I look over his shoulder and see that no he isn’t and I tell him "Your son's fine, he just swims weird, and you shouldn't hold that against him.” And the guy turns around to check and I take that as my moment to get out of there.

So it’s night now and I’m not thinking about much just kicking a ball down the street then I give it to much juice and it flies over the fence of my local NASA compound (just bear with me) I climb over the fence to get it when I realize the guards are all passed out and it seems there’s been a planed attack. The alarms are blaring but I’m the only one in tact. I try to phone for help but something must be blocking it. And they’re an alien transmitting itself to NASA screens specifically. And the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I’m trying to figure out way to do or find any one who can actually handle this and I tell the aliens but it just repeats “Give us ya planet” and I try to get someone to answer me and tell them we’re under attack and again the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I try to tell it that I don’t have the authority to do that but it just won’t listen. I just came to get my ball but it’s been a long day so I’ll speak for all of humanity. 

(Also I didn’t know this at the time but apparently this had worldwide news coverage)

So I tell the alien “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not surrender shit!” And I tell it “maybe I should work here that way I could take a trip to mars and strangle you!” And I ask “Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?” And at this point I’m just letting out all the anger from the day and I tell it  “maybe I should work here that way I could put my planetary fist in you, I could teach your kid to drown in front of you, and I could hide all of the linguini from you!” 

Then the alien fucked right off and also I’m the president of earth now. So AITA