#I can’t believe they never elaborated or mentioned that ever again

[a-trek-trough-the-stars]

Barry Trivers and Gerd Oswald dropping “The Conscience of the King” on December 8th of 1966, only to never elaborate on Tarsus IV and Kirk’s past there

[missrosegold]

someone new

Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.

He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.  

Word count: 16K

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)

Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!

Title is from Someone New by Hozier

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.

It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.

A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.

He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:

He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.

It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.

It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)

He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.

He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.

That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.

For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.

That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.

Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.

He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.

Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)

He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.

The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.

The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.

It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.

Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.

The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.

His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.

He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.

Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.

And then he met you.

Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

-----

He remembers the first time he met you.

After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.

There he had started his rehabilitation. 

It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.

In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.

It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.

Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.

He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.

Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.

He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.

Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.

He was more relieved than he thought he would be.

More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.

Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.

Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.

He remembers the day you met for the first time.

He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.

You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.

“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.

You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”

He sat.

He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.

A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.

He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.

You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.

A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”

You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”

“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”

“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”

That caught his attention.

“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.

He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.

He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.

He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.

“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”

That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.

“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”

You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.

“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”

“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”

“Of you? No.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”

That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.

“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.

You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”

He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.

“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”

“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”

He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.

“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”

You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”

It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.

He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.

You were lucky you were attractive.

The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.

“Mr. Todoroki?”

“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.

“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”

You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.

“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust. 

Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.

“So, what now then?”

“Now we talk I guess.”

“About what?”

“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”

Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.

“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”

To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”

That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.

“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.

Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”

He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”

He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”

You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.

For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.

He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.

He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.

True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.

He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.

You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.

There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.

Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.

In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.

He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.

“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”

“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”

 It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.

“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”

“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”

For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you. 

Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.

“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”

“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”

“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”

“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.

“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”

“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”

“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.

In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.

He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.

Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.

Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.

There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.

It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.  

You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.

He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.

It had been nice. Comfortable, even.

He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.

“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.

“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”

It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.

He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”

“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”

You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.

At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.

Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.

It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.

When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.

The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him. 

Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.

You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.

You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”

You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”

It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.

When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.

You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.

He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.

He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.

He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.

There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.

You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.

He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.

He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.

For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.

When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.

He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.

A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.

Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.

You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.

“You left.”

You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”

“Why did you go?”

You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”

He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”

You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.

“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”

You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”

He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”

He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”

For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.

“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”

“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.

“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”

“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”

“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”

Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”

You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.

“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”

That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.

He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.

What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.

Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.

“What do you want Touya?”

What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.

“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.

“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.

“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.

“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”

He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.

You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.

“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”

In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.

“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”

“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”

A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”

You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.

“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”

He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”

You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”

He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:

“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”

You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”

“Oh. They not in the country, or—”

“We’ll go with that.”

Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”

You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”

He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.

“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”

“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.

The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.

“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.

In the end, you’d kept your promise.

It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.

Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.

You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.

“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.

He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.

Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.

Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:

He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.

The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.

His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.

The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.

His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.

“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”

You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.

“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”

“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.

To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.

His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.

“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”

The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.

He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.

Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:

He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.

He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.  

He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.

He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood. 

He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.

He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.

As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.

As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.

Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.

“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.

Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.

He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.

It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.

Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.

As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.

He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”

You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”

He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”

He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”  

You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.

“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.

The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.

You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.

He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.

“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”

Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.

He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.

“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”

Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.

He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.

Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.

A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.

He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.

You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.

You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.

“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”

It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.

He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.

He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.

“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”

“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”

“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.

“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”

“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”

He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.

You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.

“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”

That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.

That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.

After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.

It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being. 

All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.

For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.

While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.

He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—

-----

The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you. 

He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:

His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.

He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.

It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.

His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.

Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.

He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.

He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.

He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.

Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.

He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.

If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.

He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.

He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.

He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.

He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.

He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.

Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily. 

He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.

The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off.  He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.

“You’re home early.”

You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”

He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”

You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”

He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”

“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”

“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”

You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.

The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.

“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.

“I really missed you; I mean.”

You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”

“Mmmm.”

His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”

He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.

“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.

“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”

“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.

He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.

He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.

He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.

He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.

“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.

You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.

“Not today babe, let me do the work.”

He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.

“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”

“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”

He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.

The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.

He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.

He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”

“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”

Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.

He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.

“Eyes on me gorgeous.”

“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.

“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.

“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.

“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”

He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.

“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”

He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him. 

“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.

“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”

“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”

“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”

“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”

“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.

“I’m crazy remember?”

“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”

You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.

“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.

“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:

“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”

“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.

“No, you were better.”

He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”

“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.

“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”

He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.

He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.

You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.

“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”

FIN

[resident-gay-bitch]

Fight & Make Up

marylene minor angst with a happy ending - 7.7 k words

“I broke up with Sirius.” Mary said, pressing the heavy wooden door to the dorm room closed behind her. 

From her bed, Marlene looked up in alarm; eyes wide, body still, and the quidditch magazine she was reading had fallen through her hands, down onto her mattress. Across the room, Lily gasped. She was braiding her hair at the vanity when Mary had walked in, and turned around with an expression so similar to Marlenes, however, her eyes had more sorrow than Marlenes had. 

Mary shrugged, moving into the room to sit on the end of Lily’s bed, closest to the both of them. She grabbed the fluffy stuffed bunny that had been discarded in the early morning rush and dropped onto the floor, popping it in her lap to play with its floppy ears, “It’s over… He was sad, but I think he fancies someone else anyway. Or at least he’s starting too. As strange as it sounds, I hope Sirius gets his way, they’d be much better together than he and I.” 

“Why?” Lily asked, quickly tying off the end of her braid to give Mary her undivided attention, “What? Why…. are you okay, Mary?”

“I’m okay.” Mary gave a half hearted smile, “Well, I’m sad. It was a good relationship, and now it’s over, of course I’m going to be sad. I miss him already, he was sweet… got me flowers and shared his pudding with me… not to mention he’s bloody gorgeous and a brilliant snog.” 

Lily snickered, her laugh so sudden that it caused her to make a snorting sound, much like a pig, when she scrunched up her nose. Mary finds it delightful when Lily laughs like that, it’s absolutely hilarious. Across the room, on her bed, Marlene did not make a sound. 

“Never mind that though, those things can’t last forever.” Mary shrugged again, sitting the bunny down on the blanket beside her, looking up at the girls again. “I’m glad it’s over, actually. Better now than later, less drama that way. Plus, it’s nice to know that he cried a bit.” 

“Sirius cried?” Lily asked, her mouth a little slack, “Hmm, maybe he’s not as much of a gorgeous prick as I thought.” 

“No.” Mary laughed, “Believe it or not, the boy's got a heart. He is lovely, Lily. He’s just not the one, you know?”

“God, none of them ever are.” Lily groaned, tipping her head back over the chair, “All the boys here suck. All of them, every single one of them, all stupid gits… annoyingly attractive gits, but gits.” 

Mary snickered, lifting a ringed hand to cover her mouth, “Too right, Lily… you wouldn’t happen to be talking about anyone in specifics, would you? Perhaps… one of Sirius’ stupid friend-”

“Absolutely not.” Lily said, turning bright red, “No, I’m not talking about James-”

“I never said his name, Lily.” Mary teased. 

Lily went silent, her cheeks redder than her hair as she stared up at the roof. All that could be heard in the room for a short while were Mary’s quiet giggles that she tried to stifle behind her hand. 

“Shit.” Lily said eventually, “Don’t you dare say anything.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Mary grinned, holding her hands up on either side of her head. 

Lily flipped her off before smiling and turning her head to face Mary again, eyes wide with anticipation, “Okay, so, Sirius isn’t the one, sure… but there's got to be another reason, right? What pushed you to end it now, rather than when you just stopped having feelings for eachother?” 

“Well…” Mary smiled softly, her cheeks going red, “You know, Sirius is falling for someone else, so it’s better to let him explore that then stress himself out with me. And, uhm. There's… someone else.” 

“Someone else?” Marlene asked, the first sound she had made since Mary entered the room. Though her face still remained the same, eyes wide with shock and worry. 

Mary cleared her throat, “Yes. Though, I will not be elaborating.” 

“Boo!” Lily poked her tongue out, “Come on, you’ve got to tell us.” 

“Absolutely not.” Mary shook her head, stern and sure, “It’s pointless, so… I’d rather just let it run its course, okay?” 

Lily huffed and turned back to the vanity, fixing up her braid where it got messy at the end, “You’re boring.” She shrugged, “I am sorry, though, Mary. I’m here for you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Lils.” Mary smiled softly at her reflection. She turned her attention then to Marlene, the two of them staring at each other for a moment, “Well, are you going to say anything? Gloat about how right you were? Dance about how happy you are that it’s over?” 

Across the room, on her bed, Marlene paled. 

The first moment Mary confessed she had a small crush on Sirius Black in the beginning of fifth year, Marlene had an issue with it. Mary remembered the way her best friend pulled a strange face, scrunching up her nose to ask “Black? Ugh, why? He’s so vain.” 

She protested every time Mary thought about making a move, pulled strange faces every time she called him cute, and countered every dreamy comment Mary made about him with her own distasteful one. And when something finally happened between them, just three and a half months ago, Marlene got worse. 

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend for sixth year, and after a boring potions lesson when Mary and the girls were packing up their things, the boys were all shoving a pink cheeked Sirius forward with words of reassurance and laughter. He asked her out to The Three Broomsticks, pulled a small bunch of hand picked flowers from his pocket, and kissed her on the cheek, and Mary naturally said yes. 

The entire rest of the day she had to put up with Marlene's yapping, unkind words about the boy she had just started to date. She even went so far as to interrupt their date, as they were giggling together in a quiet booth in the pub, Sirius’ arm around her shoulders as he nosed at her cheek.. Right as they were about to kiss, Marlene came barreling over and sat herself across from them, striking up an awfully boring conversation about broom polish and a new style of quaffle that just dropped, Lily chasing after in protest. 

It drove a wedge between them quite quickly, the pair always at each other's throats. 

If any of Mary’s friends had ever suggested she stopped having an interest in a boy, she’s always listened. Isn’t it the first rule of girl code that you trust your fellow females' judgement? Besides, friends always come first. 

However, Marlene never really gave a good, valid reason as to why Sirius was such a bad match for Mary. It was always yaps about his overconfidence, or vanity, or all the stupid pranks he’d pull, or anything else about boys in general she could come up with. Which would have been understandable, if she hadn’t been so cool with Lily’s miniature crush on Remus a few years back, or so encouraging towards her now clear feelings for James; who, in Mary’s opinion, is much more arrogant and overconfident than Sirius. 

Besides, Sirius wasn’t even that vain. Yes, he knew he had good looks, and yes, sometimes he used them to his advantage (see; flirting to get his way so the Marauders could efficiently prank), but he wasn’t awful about it. The first time Mary ever called him gorgeous he turned bright red and couldn’t fully form a sentence for three whole minutes he was so flustered. 

Not only that, but Marlene and Sirius were actually quite good mates before Mary started dating him. They were practically best friends, getting up to mischief together and pulling James’ leg during quidditch practices. So why Marlene had such a problem with it remains an utter mystery to Mary. 

That’s why she didn’t listen. 

And Lily thought they were wonderful together, as did all of the Gryffindor (and Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, and even some Slytherin) girls who didn’t have a weird infatuation with Sirius and wanted him to themselves. So it really was just Marlene and her own issues that she was too stuck up about to disclose to Mary. 

For a while there, Mary thought she was jealous. Marlene had never really expressed an interest in boys. When they were younger, she found it appalling when Lily and Mary talked about the cute boys in their classes. As they grew a little, she became more accustomed to it, and joined in on their discussions, but never expressed her own attraction to them. So the thought of Marlene having a crush on Sirius was a far away thought, that only occurred to Mary one afternoon about three weeks ago. 

The girls had gotten all rugged up in their coats and scarves and mittens to go for a walk around the grounds when they bumped into Sirius outside by the old willow tree. He’d been setting up something for a prank, but finished up by the time the girls had reached him, so naturally, Mary invited him along. 

It was only when Mary took her hand out of his to wrap half of her scarf around his neck, and slip one of her mittens onto one of his cold hands, that Marlene had had enough. 

She stopped in the middle of their path, staring at the couple for a moment before expressing that “this is fucking stupid” before storming off in a huff of teary eyed anger. 

She’d never said anything in front of Sirius before, and she’d certainly never thrown a tantrum like that. It took Lily shyly suggesting Marlene may have gotten jealous before chasing after her, did Mary actually consider it. 

She felt awful. Going off and dating the boy her best friend liked, holding his hands and snogging him right in front of her. Oh, she felt so guilty about it, so terribly awful. She talked with Sirius quickly, which he felt very embarrassed about, before running off to find Marlene herself. 

She didn’t find her in the end. However Sirius did. And when Sirius and Mary bumped into each other again just two hours later, he told her they had a little chat about it. He told Mary that Marlene very explicitly, and very angrily, expressed she had absolutely no interest in Sirius whatsoever, never has and never would. And she most certainly wasn’t jealous of Mary. 

When Mary tried to talk to her about it that evening, Marlene didn’t allow it. She shut down and closed her bed curtains and didn’t talk to Mary for three days. 

So Mary remains miffed. 

She very wisely did not mention that the real reason she broke up with Sirius was because of Marlene. 

One; she knew it would just end in an argument if she brought that up. 

Two; Marlene would probably end up on a high horse about it and give Mary another headache. 

Three; That someone else that snuck their way into the equation… Well, that’s Marlene. 

Through their kind of falling out, Mary realised she missed Marlene more than she thought she would. It felt horrible to have her best friend ignore her, chastising her relationship and throwing silent tantrums whenever Sirius took away her attention. 

She was plagued with thoughts of Marlene on the constant, and started to wonder if Sirius really was that right for her after all. She came to one simple conclusion whilst laying in his lap one afternoon after Marlene had strolled into the common room, seen them, rolled her eyes and abruptly left; Sirius is lovely, but he’s never going to be Marlene. 

Honestly, the reason why Mary had clung onto Sirius for so long was out of sheer spite. 

The way her and Marlene have always worked was a neat push and pull. 

Marlene isn’t really like many other girls Mary knows. She’s messy, and loud, confident, snarky. She’s a little rough around the edges, has never cared about her looks for even one day in her life, all she wants to do is fly, and race, and play, and fight and help those in need of it. She’s never given a shit about anyone's opinions, and in first year, when some Slytherin girls told her she was ugly and dressed like a boy, she stepped on their toes and spat in their faces and threw out the only dress she ever owned. 

To Mary, who grew up in a house where eyebrow plucking and lipstick and cute dresses were shoved on her from a young age, and a village where a woman's beauty was respected and expected, and a world where the only way she’d ever dream of getting her smart foot in the door was if she dressed the pretty part, Marlene was everything. 

With Marlene, she could let go. She could wear baggy trousers around the dorm and look over to see her friend in similar ones, she could go an entire day without makeup knowing Marlene wouldn’t look at her any different for it. With Marlene she could run, and she could laugh, and she could scream, and she could play rough. 

They’d argue and throw pillows at each other and chase one another around the dorm until they’d collapse in a heap and laugh together. They’d wrestle over who got to read their new magazine first and end up curled up and reading it together. 

They’d argue about silly things, both so stupidly stubborn so it would escalate quickly. Mary would call her a slag, and Marlene would call Mary slut, and by the end of the evening they’d be brushing each other's hair and complaining about homework together as if nothing had even happened. 

Lately, it’s been all fight and no makeup. And Mary misses it. 

She realised that she only ever started so many arguments so they could make up. Because sure, when they’re kind to each other it’s nice enough. But when they fight, chase and wrestle, Mary can get close to her. She can get up in Marlene's space and touch her, feel her pale skin against the palm of her hand, the soft prick of her leg hair against fingertips, the hot breath that followed her brilliant laughter across her own cheeks. 

When they make up, Mary gets to sit there and brush Marlene's hair whilst she narrates a celebrity magazine with extra commentary; Mary can run her fingers through the messy blonde locks and feel Marelene melt under the touch, and she can listen to the comfortable song of her voice and laugh at her stupid opinions about whatever scandal occurs that week and let it calm her. 

When they Make up, Mary gets to lay her head on Marlene's shoulder whilst they read together, listening to the steady in and out of her breath, and if the position’s right, her heartbeat. She can let Marlene twist her fingers around the ends of Mary’s springy curls, or even scratch them up against her scalp; she can be wrapped under Marlene's arm and lay there for as long as she pleases. Too many times they’ve fallen asleep like that. 

When they make up, Mary gets to lay in bed with her, looking into her crystal blue eyes in the dark, admiring the shimmer reflected in them from the light at the end of her wand. She gets to listen to Marlene's soft whispers of “Sorry, you’re my best friend, I don’t really think you’re a slut. I know the rumours aren’t true and wouldn’t even care if they were. Really, Mary, I love you, I’m such a git”, and feel her warm breath on her face, and inhale the comforting scent of Marlene's coconut shampoo and the remnants of her woody perfume. She gets to hold Marlene's hand, calloused and rough from years of quidditch and getting up to no good, and giggle with her, and lock their ankles together beneath the covers. 

And it took Mary losing that, for what felt like for good, to realise how much she needed it. 

She needs Marlene. 

Though all of their nasty, through all of their dirty, through all of their horrible, Mary needs her. She needs her like she needs air. 

She’s in love with her best friend, and she’s very nearly lost her. Over a boy. 

Marlene didn’t say anything, she just slowly shut her bed curtains and didn’t come out all evening. 

It was stupid of Mary to expect a fight anyway, they hadn’t fought in weeks. They just glare at each other, almost bursting into tears without any words shared between them, and walk away. 

She’s so stupid for thinking they could just fight and makeup now. So fucking stupid. 

☆ ★ ☆

“That’s it.” Mary said, shoving her book bag down on the end of her bed, storming into the centre of the room, Marlene trailing behind with a scoff. 

“Oh, what ails Mary Almighty now?” Marlene rolled her eyes, taking off her own satchal and dropping it on the ground, “What gorgeous, dick having man has fucked and rejected you this week?” 

“Marlene.” Lily scolded, sitting down on the end of her bed. She rubs her temples, already gaining a headache from their arguing. The first real argument they’ve had in months. 

“What?” Marlene scoffed, “Am I wrong? Have you not sucked your way to heartbreak-”

“Marlene!” Lily said again, her eyes stern as she glared at her friend, “Enough with the slutshaming.” 

“Tell Mary to stop being such a whore-”

“I’m sorry, do I make you jealous?” Mary asked, cocking her head. Marlene's words sting, but only on the surface. She knows that Marlene knows all those rumours that get around about Mary aren't true. That she’s only really been on a handful of dates at most and only ever slept with Sirius. But still, your best friend, forward slash current biggest enemy, forward slash the girl you’ve accidentally been in love with for years calling you a whore isn’t the tastiest pill to swallow. “I’m sorry men don’t take an interest in you, Marlene. Perhaps if you’d just put on a dress-”

“Oh, stop.” Marlene sassed, “I don’t want to fucking talk about it-”

“Well, I do.” Mary pressed. 

“We are not talking about the lack of men interested in me-”

“No, I want to talk about us.” 

Marlene went a little white, staring at Mary across the room for a moment. The silence stretched, tension so thick you could slice it with a knife. Mary held her ground, eyes locked on the other girl with ferocious need. She wasn’t losing this. She needed a fight, so they were going to fight. 

Soon enough they’d have to make up. 

Hopefully. 

Marlene scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned away, losing that little battle. Mary internally celebrates, knowing things are going her way, finally. Perhaps they might really get somewhere, if Marlene is willing to listen. 

Marlene loosens the tie around her neck before shrugging off her robes, tossing them messily onto her bed. Mary has an itch to go over and tidy her corner of the room, as she always used to help Marlene to do. But since their silence, Mary hasn’t helped once, and it really shows with the pile of dirty laundry peeking out from under her bed. 

Mary doesn’t remove her robes, liking the feel of the thick fabric on her arms. It’s grounding, something else to grab onto instead of digging the sharp of her nails into her palms. 

“Go on then.” Marlene says, sticking her hands sharply into the pockets of her trousers, shoulders tight around her neck as she wobbles on her heels and toes. “Talk. Tell me what tragedies have befallen us, McDonald-”

“Don’t call me by my last name, McKinnon.” Mary sneered back at her, folding her arms over her chest, “And you know exactly what I want to talk about-”

“Well, I’m not really interested, so-”

“Well, I don’t really care.” Mary said, glaring at her again with her eyebrows raised. Marlene gave her an icy look in return, her face petulant, like a child. “I’ve had enough of… whatever the fuck is going on, and I wan’t to talk about it. I’m sick of you ignoring me, Marlne-”

“As if you’re so innocent.” Marlene fired back, “The whole time you were with him you ignored everything I said. What happened to trusting your friends, hmm? I told you he was bad news-”

“And he wasn’t.” Mary retorted, “Nothing bad about him, Marlene. You used to act as if the sun shone out of his arse, half the time, before we got together. So what is it, hmm? What pissed you off so much about Sirius and my relationship?”

“Well, you said it yourself. He wasn’t the one. There’s someone else.” She groaned, spitting out the last part in a childish tone, wiggling her head to make fun. 

“Obviously he wasn’t the one, Marlene.” Mary huffed, “He was my second boyfriend! I’m sixteen! That doesn’t mean we can’t date at all.”

“Yeah, well, I was trying to save you from heartbreak.” Marlene huffed. 

“Well it didn’t work.” Mary said, her voice tight as she looked at the girl she loved. She looks so tired, big bags under her diamond eyes, her hair a mess from running her hands through it all day in stress. “You broke my heart, Marlene. You broke it the moment you turned against me and didn’t give me one good reason why.”

Marlene's expression drops, looking up at Mary with widened eyes. Her mouth gapes slightly, moving just a little, as if she wants to say something, but no words find their way out. 

“What? You don’t like that?” Mary shakes her head in disbelief, “You don’t like the fact that the real reason I ended my relationship with Sirius is because I was sick of my best friend icing me out and getting upset over nothing? Is it so horrible to ask you to be happy for me? It feels awful, every day, to look at you and feel disgusted with myself for something I didn’t even do! I just wanted my fucking friend back, and two months have passed, Marlene, and you still fucking hate me!”

“One month.” Marlene muttered under her breath, the words slipping out of her lips as if she was desperate to say them, “It’s been one month… twelve days.” 

Mary looked at her for a moment, unbelieving the words that had just left Marlene's mouth. She laughs, stressed, on the brink of tears as she brings her hands to her face and tugs at her hair, “Fucks sake, Marlene. Not the point!” 

Marlene doesn’t say anything. She just stares at Mary, her head dipped, big wet eyes tracking Mary as she paces the room. 

“What is it?” Mary begs, stopping and waving her hand out at Marlene, “Just tell me. Tell me what I’ve done that’s so bloody awful that you hate me! I don’t care anymore, Marlene. I just want to know! I want to know, I want to fix this… I miss you. Every day, I miss you, so please, for the love of Merlin, just tell me.” 

“I don’t want to tell you.” Marlene confesses, and for the first time in months, Mary feels like she’s finally got something. 

“Why not?” Mary asks. 

“Because I feel awful about it.” 

“I feel awful.” Mary tried, “I feel awful for even knowing Sirius, half the time. Why was it so wrong for me to be with him… to- to like him?” 

Marlene closes her eyes and breathes. One deep breath in, and out, followed by another, and one more. Mary watches as she regulates herself, clearly fighting off tears as she clenches her fists at her sides, in the way she does, acting so stoic. 

“It wasn’t wrong.” She eventually mutters, so quiet Mary barely hears it. But she does, because she listens. She listens so closely she even hears the tiny sob that rips its way from Marlene's throat before she snubs it with a cough. 

Mary watches her, tilts her head to the side and takes in her sunken expression, “What’s your problem, then, Marlene? I’ve sorted through all of the options and I’ve come up dry.” She waves her arms out in stress, “I’m clueless. Absolutely fucking clueless. What have I done that is so awful to you?”

“Nothing.” Marlene says, a quick response followed by desperate eyes; aching with a genuinity Mary quickly finds, “You’ve done absolutely nothing. You’re- this isn’t about you. It’s me. I’m- I’ve done this to myself. It’s… I’ve been so scared, okay? Bloody terrified, so I… I shut you out, made everything worse. And it’s awful, isn’t it? It feels so awful. I’ve got this ache in my stomach that won’t go away, rotten with guilt, and I just keep making it worse.” Marlene clutches at her stomach, nimble fingers twisting in the white cotton of her dress shirt. 

Mary feels her anger, that violent desperation inside of her, begin to dissipate. The desire to rip Marlene's head off and go fishing around her brain for answers no longer lingers, and instead, it fades to a helpless sympathy. She wants to reach out and stitch the broken pieces of Marlene back together, to wipe her eyes with the gentle pads of her thumbs and kiss her. 

“What’s got you feeling so helpless, Marlie?” Mary asks, voice gentle like silk, the familiar nickname falling off of her tongue with ease, as if they've already made up and all is well again. 

Marlene sobs again, around a saddened laugh, and a few tears slip past her summer eyes. Mary truly does love Marlene's eyes, gentle and gorgeous. She could stare into them for hours, endlessly just admiring the infinite beauty within. She loves them when they’re happy, and she loves them when they’re scared, and she loves them when they’re gentle, and she loves them when they cry. 

She shakes her head no, the too long ends of her fringe slipping into her eyes, but she doesn’t brush them away. Mary wants too. If they weren’t fighting, she would. 

“Tell her, Marlene.” Lily whispers from her spot on the bed. Mary’s frightened by the suddenness of her voice, she’d forgotten Lily was even in the room with them, the world narrowed down to her and the girl she loves. 

Marlene shakes her head again, giving Lily a desperate look,; one that begs for rescue. 

Lily stands up and walks over to her, brushing the ends of Marlene's fringe from her eyes, using her sleeve to dab at the tears on her lightly freckled cheeks, and Mary envies her. Just for a moment, she hates Lily for getting to touch Marlene like that, to care for her, to be gentle with her. 

Marlene was never gentle, but with Mary, she learned how to be. It’s not fair that she finds it with Lily now too. Mary wants to keep that all to herself, to hide it away in the dark like a filthy secret. She wants to have the gentle caress of Marlene all to herself, to be the only one to touch her tears, the only one to sooth her anguish. 

Jealousy rips through her like a flood, threatening to destroy everything in its path. All this build up, all this silence, and Mary doesn’t know how much longer she can keep it under wraps. 

“Don’t be scared, Marlene.” Lily smiles softly, taking Marlene's shaky hand to sooth, “Tell her. Let it off your chest. You’ll feel better. Besides, it may not end so terribly, you’ll get through it. I’m here to help you through it.” 

“I’m scared, Lily.” Marlene whispered, “I don’t want to lose her. She’s my best friend.” 

“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Lily promises, giving her hand a tight squeeze, “Tell her.” She nods before taking her leave. 

It’s just the two of them, alone together in their big empty dorm room. 

“Tell me, Marlene.” Mary whispers, too frightened of something bad happening if she spoke much louder. Her heart raced in her chest, beating so fast she could hear her blood pumping in her ears. 

Marlene huffed, taking a moment to catch her breath and very pointedly not looking at Mary. It’s infuriating; to still be avoided when they’re standing right across from one another. They’re the only two in the room, trying to make up, and Marlene is still ignoring her. 

Mary could kill her!

“Look at me-”

“I don’t want to look at you.” Marlene snapped back. 

“Look-”

“No.” 

“Marlene-”

“I’ll cry!” Marlene spat out, looking down at the ground, “Bloody hell, I’m pathetic… I’ll cry, Mary. Please don’t look at me, I’m trying to find the words, okay? Give me a moment.”

Mary sighed and nodded her head, making a show of turning around to face the wall, rather than Marlene, no matter how infuriating. Turned away, she already misses the sight of her; in her grass stained trousers, her wrinkled button up that she never tucks in properly, shaggy hair, her looser than usual tie, the boys shoes she wears for comfort, the silver band she always wears around her thumb. 

She’s a walking contrast to Mary, who’s always neat and tidy, who tucks her shirt into her skirt with precision, her hair always neatly done, her tie always tight to her collar, Mary-Janes with cute frilly socks or stockings depending on the weather, and the array of dainty gold jewellery she changes most days. 

Mary’s obsessed with her. 

“You were right…” Marlene mutters, her voice strained. She’s clearly willing herself not to break down into tears, and Mary feels her stomach ache with empathy for the girl. She wants to turn and run and pull Marlene into her arms, to cradle her and stroke her hair and make it all better. 

But she knows better. She’s not stupid. That’s not how this is going to work. So she stands there, facing the wall, and listens to Marlene talk. 

“I was jealous.” She sniffled, “I was so… so fucking jealous.”

“Marlene-” Mary feels her heart crack, that horrible guilt sinking back in. She’s an awful friend, she knows it now; how she went so long without seeing the vibrant truth right in front of her. So what Marlene hardly expressed her interest in boys, maybe she’s just shy about them? So what Marlene denied being jealous when she was asked, she’s obviously not going to tell her best friend's boyfriend she’s into him. 

It’s worse now though, because Mary knows she’s in love with Marlene. She’s so painfully in love with Marlene that the confession stabs her right in the heart and drags until it bleeds. 

She’s just fucked everything up, hasn’t she? 

“I’m- I’m so sorry.” She choked out, “I didn’t-”

“No.” Marlene presses, sniffling. Mary can hear her shuffling around, no doubt twitching in her spot. She does that when she’s anxious, hops from foot to foot, tries to balance on one leg before she wobbles and puts it down. It’s strange, she’s so strange, and Mary loves her all the more for it. She loves her, but she can never have. “You just… you listen to me, okay?”

“Okay.” Mary muttered, voice meek and broken. She’s trying her absolute best to not let Marlene hear her cry. 

“Sirius and I were best mates- he’s… he was the first bloke who ever treated me as an equal, and not just some girl who wanted attention. When we both went up for beater on the quidditch team, he shook my hand and played against me with ruthless precision, and cheered for me when I hit the bludger harder than any of the other blokes there, and called me brilliant right before going to convince the captain to let me on the team.” She took a deep breath in, “He always pulled me into conversations with the team that I often felt left out of, being the only girl. I knew how he thought, I knew his type, and I knew how the entire bloody quidditch team felt about mesmerising Mary Mcdonald. They’d all ask me about you, what the best way to your heart was, how interested I thought you’d be in them, whether you’re interested in hookups or dating. So the moment you told me you liked him, my heart fucking broke, because I knew he thought you were gorgeous. I knew if you expressed any interest in him, he’d fucking pounce. And he did.” 

Mary swallowed the lump in her throat, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shoulder. Behind her, she heard the bed creak under Marlene's weight. She sniffled and breathed, finding her next words. 

“I told him not to, you know? I said it would be a bad idea- that it would fuck everything up. But he didn’t listen, the arrogant bastard. No doubt James’ doing, the romantic that he is. You know, I thought he’d come yell at me, after that first date of yours, after you and I fought about it. But you didn’t tell him. You didn’t tell him how much of a cunt I was being to you, and he had absolutely no idea why I stopped talking to him.” Marlene sighed and stood up again, her feet pattering on the hardwood floors, “You broke my heart, Mary… being with him. I’m in love, and it fucking hurts.” 

Mary bit down on her lip and ignored the ache in her chest, her heart cut in two by the jagged knife, wielded by Marlene's tongue, “I’m so sorry, Marlie… I- I had no idea-”

“I know you didn’t. You weren’t supposed to ever know, Mary.” Marlene said, shuffling closer, “You’re not supposed to find out. But I just… I’ve never been good at handling my emotions, and you know I get so hot headed. I’m sorry for the way I acted, it’s unforgivable, and childish, and stupid, and I have no excuse. I just- I… it hurts, Mary… have you ever been in love?” 

Mary nodded, looking forward at the poster of a muggle heartthrob hanging on the wall that her and Lily hung up together with giggles in their throats. She thought she was in love with him when she was thirteen, but of course it wasn’t love, it was just obsession. 

But this… the way she feels about Marlene, that’s beyond obsession. It’s carnal desire, dripping poison. It aches and it stings and it pulls at her until there's nothing left. It’s love, love she feels so deeply, love she didn’t know she needed until it was too late. Much too late. She’ll never get it back. 

“Were you in love with him?” Marlene asked, “Sirius?” 

“I don’t know.” Mary sobbed, “I don’t know… but I have felt love, Marlene. I know how much it hurts. I know… I know.”

Behind her, Marlene took a deep breath, “You know how much it controls you then? The pain?”

“Yes.” Mary nodded, “It makes you feel fucking crazy.” 

Marlene sniffled, “Oh, you were never meant to know, Mary. This ruins everything.” 

“It doesn’t.” Mary sobbed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she couldn’t contain it anymore. Everything aches, “It doesn’t, I promise. You can… Marlene, if you love him, you should tell-”

Marlene snickered, shuffling closer, pressing her forehead to the back of Mary's head, “I don’t love him, Mary.” She whispered, pressing closer, their bodies so close that Mary can feel the warmth radiating off her. Marlene took a deep inhale, burying her face in Mary’s curls before she let out a broken sob, “It’s not him I love, sweetheart.” 

Mary freezes. 

Her body goes rigid, tight and stiff, her seemingly endless stream of tears coming to a screeching halt. She feels Marlene let out a heavy breath, the warmth heating the back of her neck. She can sense Marlene struggling, knows her hands are clenching and unclenching at her sides, debating whether or not to reach out and touch. 

But Mary is quite simply frozen. Even the two halves of a heart in her chest had stopped still for a moment. It all clicks into place, once a simple answer to this impossible equation; Marlene is in love with Mary, just as Mary’s in love with Marlene. 

And all it took to get here were two broken hearts and a five month long fight. 

And where is “here” anyway? The hollow dormroom they stand in? In this bubble with Marlene pressed to her back, wondering if she can risk pressing closer? On this bridge between broken hearts they’ve slowly begun to build? Or is it in the stitchings of Mary’s heart as it mends itself back together in her chest? Because Marlene loves her, she’s in love with her, just as Mary is. 

“Here”, wherever it is, is the only place Mary ever wants to be. 

All this wanting created all this fighting, and now all this fighting means a whole lot of making up. 

Mary thinks this makeup is going to be her favourite makeup of all. 

“You’re in love with me?” Mary whispered, pure awe dripping from her voice as she reached back to grab Marlene's hands. 

Marlene tenses, her hands stiff in place, reluctant to let Mary move her, “Yes?” 

“Well, are you certain, or not?” Mary asked, turning her head slightly to look back at the other girl. They locked eyes for a moment, and Mary lifted an eyebrow in mock curiosity, “Because if you’re not completely sure, then you’ve got a really shitty reason to go and fuck everything up.” 

“I’m sure.” Marlene muttered, her crystal eyes locked onto Mary’s, “I’m… I love you- fuck, that’s… I never thought I’d say that to you. Romantically. I never thought I'd confess.” 

“Why not?” Mary asked, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of Marlene's palm. 

“Because…” Marlene furrowed her brow, a sad smile creeping onto her face, “I’m not stupid, Mary. You like boys- and even if you didn’t, even if you somehow managed to be the only other queer in this bloody school, the chance of you loving me? I know it would never happen. I thought I made peace with that, but… Sirius mucked it all up.” 

Mary gave her a small smile, “Sirius is a mess like that.” 

Marlene nodded. 

“You know… you’re not the only queer. They’re everywhere.” 

Marlene snickered, “Yeah, sure. Old McGonagall’s a lesbian, is she? Grading papers by day, minge licking by night?” 

Mary furrowed her brow, “Marlie… McGonagall is a lesbian.”

“No she’s not.” Marlene said with a smile. Mary watched as it slowly faded, “No she’s not.” 

“Why do you think she has that photo frame of her and Madame Pomfrey hugging on her desk- what do you think their five o’clock undisturbed tea times every evening are?” 

“What?” Marlene gasped, “She’s not- don’t joke with me, Mary-”

“I’m surprised you don’t know this- it’s common gossip, Marls. Ask anyone.” 

“Bloody hell.” Marlene said, swiping a hand through her hair, “Is that why she sat me down and said she sees herself in me- oh Merlin, that conversation makes so much more sense now.”

“Marlene!” Mary laughed, spinning around to face her, “Did McGonagall talk to you about her experience as a lesbian without you… picking up on the fact that she’s a lesbian?” 

“Apparently!” Marlene gasped, running her strong hands over her face, “Oh, that’s awful- I’ve got to talk to her. I was so weird.” 

“You git.” Mary snickered, “Trust you to miss a massive sign like that.” 

“Yeah, I would, wouldn’t I?” Marlene sighed. 

“I- uhm… I don’t know how you feel about Sirius at the moment, Marlene, but… if you find yourself being friends again, maybe… you know… keep your eyes open for sign-”

“Sirius?” Marlene gasped, taking a step back, “But you two- he likes girls…. He-”

“You can like both, you know.” Mary said, setting her hands on her hips as she gave Marlene a stern glare, looking down at her, since just a smidgen taller, “You know Bowie? The one Remus is so obsessed with? He likes both, it’s called bisexual.” 

“Oh.” Marlene said, furrowing her brow as she looked to the ground. 

“Point is… I don’t think Sirius knows that Sirius is bisexual yet, but, uhm… you know, he talked an awful lot about one of his very male friends. And a lot of those conversations consisted of language like handsome, and brilliant, and hot.”

“Oh.” Marlene sighed, “You know, come to think of it, he’s said a lot of similar things about the blokes on the quidditch team. I always assumed he was trying to talk them up for me, and doing a very bad job at it…” 

“Poor thing.” Mary sighed, dropping her hands from her hips, “Anyway, you’re not alone, Marlene. Never have been.” 

Marlene nodded, the mood suddenly sombre again. She fiddled with her thumb ring, “You… you don’t hate me?” 

“Why would I hate you? You’re my best friend. I love you through everything, just as Lily does. You know this.” Mary said, smiling kindly at the beautiful mess she fell in love with. 

“Because I’m a lesbian.” Marlene shrugged, “I thought…”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” Mary said quietly, “Never could.” 

Marlene nodded, “And I’m in love with you.” 

“How’s that any reason to hate you?” 

“Because I’m creepy.” Marlene said, eyes wide as she looked at Mary, “I’m… weird. I start fights with you just so we can make up and be close to one another.” 

Mary closed her eyes, trying to fight off the most radiant smile she’d ever found herself smiling. It’s embarrassing, really, how smitten she is right at this moment. 

They’re hopeless. 

Terribly fucking hopeless, both desperately clinging to one another, trying to get all that they can. Savouring every moment shared together, clinging, begging for just a little bit more. 

Things don’t feel so hopeless anymore. 

“Just so you'll… you’ll brush my hair and run your lovely hands through it.” Marlene whispered, gently taking Mary by the hands, brushing her calloused thumbs over the soft skin of her knuckles. “So that you might lay on my chest, so I can breathe in the smell of you, and play with the ends of your hair- how do you get it so soft, Mary? It’s so soft.” 

“Because I look after it.” Mary said with a mocking smile. 

Marlene rolled her eyes, a small smile curling up the ends of her pink lips. They’re a little chapped, as they usually are. Mary had gotten into the habit of handing Marlene her lipbalm everytime she happened to reapply, but months apart, she’s clearly severely been lacking in it. 

Mary reached into her pocket and pulled the lipbalm out, handing it over to Marlene with a huff. 

Marlene rolled her eyes and applied it, smacking her lips together, “Hmm, berry?”

“Gooseberry pie.” Mary offered, “It’s new.” 

“It’s nice.” Marlene gave a shy smile, handing the lipbalm back, “Missed your lip balm… yet another reason I’m a creep. I don’t understand why you’re not mad.” 

“Marlene…” Mary took her hands gently again, “Why would I be mad at someone for being in love with me?”

Marlene rolled her eyes and grumbled, shaking their joined hands in frustration, “Because I’m a weirdo who only puts your lip balm on so I might know what it tastes like to kiss you.” 

“Does it taste nice enough to kiss?” Mary asked, blinking her eyes up at Marlene as she made herself small. 

“Obviously.” Marlene sighed, bowing her head in shame, “I want to kiss you all the time, Mary. I’m just… awful- why’d you give that to me? I was getting used to not knowing.” 

Mary smiled, shuffling a little closer, “So your lips wouldn’t be all gross and dry when I kiss you.” 

“Yeah, righ-” Marlene gasped, the breath seemingly punched from her lungs when Mary pressed their lips together, “Mary!” 

Mary pulled back, holding Marlene's hands tight down by their sides, “Marlene?”

“Don’t…” Marlene muttered, “Don’t fuck with me.” 

“I’m not fucking with you, Marlie.” Mary whispered, leaning in to brush their noses together again, “You’re the entire fucking reason I broke up with him. Your… infuriating attitude and absence in my life made me realise how much I miss you- how much I need you. I missed our fights, because I missed making up too. I realised I used to start fights, just to get close to you after. I love you, Marlene. I mean it.”

“Double swear it?” Marlene asked, her voice breathless and awe struck. 

“Triple.” Mary muttered, “I swear it on Lily’s life.” 

“Fuck.” She whispered, dropping Mary’s hands to grab her by the face and tug. 

Mary had never had a kiss to earth-shatteringly magnificent. This kiss has nothing on the movies. Marlene holds her tight in her grasp, like a treasure she’s terrified of dropping. She’s pressed so close that the only thing Mary can feel is Marlene, she’s all she knows at this moment. She kisses hard, and desperate, with teeth and tongue and bite. It’s rough and ruthless and so fucking perfect, far beyond anything Mary had ever dreamed of. 

She buries her hands in Marlene's tousled hair and tugs, pressing her body into the shape of Marlenes, slotting together as if they were made for one another. Marlene makes a needy sound into Mary’s mouth that has her legs beginning to buckle and her head spinning with want. 

They go stumbling back, collapsing down onto Marlene's bed, where they draw the curtains and don’t emerge until morning. It’s definitely Mary’s favourite way of making up now.

☆ ★ ☆

thanks for reading!! comments and reblogs are always very very appreciated and i love reading all that you have to say!

this was my firs wlw centric fic actually so im really excited to be posting it! and i promise im not projecting my own failed lesbian highschool lovestory onto it at all.

anyway, hope you enjoyed the readdddd!!

read here on ao3 :)

[em1e]

夏 + 五条 // OLVIDADA ⠀ ༝ ༝ gojo satoru + geto suguru ⠀ ༝ ༝ 2.9k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angst :3 this is a cyoe story ! [ endings are tbp ] ⠀ — [ part 1 ] you were supposed to be dead, but by some miracle gojo's found you. gojo, too.

i. alive

“So,” he starts after taking a sip of his drink, “where have you been all these years?” 

You pause for a second longer than necessary, letting your finger run around the rim of your cup before sighing, “I lost my memory a few years ago . . . “ And he lets you delve into the same story you told Gojo, Geto hanging onto every word you say like it’s the last thing he could ever hear from you. 

“. . . and Gojo and I have been kinda just been getting to know each other again.” 

You only look back up at him when you’ve finished retelling your most recent memories, wanting to try and gauge his reaction based on what you’ve told him. 

He’s quiet for a moment before he tilts his head towards you, “So Gojo and you, you’ve been bonding?” 

You laugh a little, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and scrunching your nose, “Something like that, I guess. More like catching up? He’s trying to help me remember anything, but it isn’t really helping.” 

Your smile turns sheepish, looking back down to your coffee, “It is nice to hear about the memories, though - they’re just new stories but me and you and Gojo are the stars.” 

The analogy is . . . cute. Very fitting with your current profession, and not at all something Geto could expect when surrounded by curses. There’s something so innocent about it, so pure that has him clutching his sleeves in his fists and sending another smile your way. 

“So how do you deal with it all?” The question leaves you with furrowed brows, head tilting to the side as if you need him to elaborate. 

“‘It all’?” You repeat, unsure of what kind of answer he’s really looking for, “I mean, I’ve been to therapy I guess, when I was younger and still trying to figure everything out, but I’ve got a handle on it all now and - “

“You’ve figured it all back out on your own?” 

You almost want to be annoyed at how frequently he’s interrupting you, coddled by Gojo the past few weeks reminding you how different the two are, but his saccharine smile never falters and you can’t really find it in yourself to be upset.  He’s just curious, after all. 

“Most of it, yeah,” you hum, unsure of yourself, “but it’s been easier with Gojo around - and now you too, hopefully.” Your smile mimics his own, and he’s reminded of one of the last photos you took together as a group, eyes squinted and head tilted. He thinks about that memory often, chaining it to his heart and he wonders for a moment if it’s something Gojo has mentioned to you. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

ii. scattered

You and Geto part ways after talking for hours (up until the cafe closes - the workers have to politely ask you to leave), and you promise to keep in contact. Something warm settles in your chest, happy to have another portion of your past back, even if it’s only bit by bit. Like piecing a puzzle together. 

When you make it to your apartment, only half-paying attention to what you’re doing while trying to send a text to Geto so he has your number, you bump shoulders with someone. Immediate apologies fall off your lips, almost dropping your phone in favor of assisting whoever you’ve just run into, when you fully process the mop of white hair in front of you. 

“Oh! Hey Gojo, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you smile, moving past him to unlock your front door, “you won’t believe who I just talked to.” 

“I was just in the neighborhood,” he waves dismissively and follows behind you as you push your door open, “you’re not gonna tell me you ran into a celebrity without me, are you?” 

“No,” you laugh, sliding off your shoes while he shuts the door and does the same, “I ran into Geto!” 

You miss the way he freezes, too busy putting away your bag and putting on a pot of tea to notice, and he recovers relatively quickly, all things considered. 

“That so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, “we talked for the last like . . . three hours? Would’ve never known it was him without you showin’ me that picture.”

When you turn to face him, he’s still hovering by the door. Maybe he hasn’t recovered as much as he thought. 

It makes you pause your ramblings, “Something wrong? I know you guys aren’t exactly friends-,” you gasp, ”oh god am I bringing up bad memories or something? I’m so sorry, I should’ve-” 

“It’s okay.” He smiles, but it does little to ease your concerns, “we still aren’t on the best of terms, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

He watches you pull your lip between your teeth, still very anxious at the prospect of making him upset. He steps forward and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair with a hum, “Promise, it’s fine. Tell me what you guys talked about?” 

Gojo moves past you to turn off the boiling tea, grabbing two cups for the both of you to keep his hands busy while you talk, worried if he doesn’t, you’ll see how they shake. 

You tell him about the various topics you managed to dive into, most being things you’ve already talked about with Gojo, along with some new additions sprinkled into the mix thanks to Geto. 

Gojo is silent as you speak, nursing his cup of tea and shaking his head with a smile when you offer to get him a new cup. You frown, not liking how quiet he is. You poke his temple three times, and he blinks each time, before looking at you. 

“What was that for?”

“Come on, Gojo, conversations need two people to participate,” you hold up that number of fingers, then point at one with your other hand, “it’s no fun if I’m the only one talking.” 

He hums in agreement, and you sigh, shaking his shoulder, “What’s wrong? You’re usually more talkative than I am.” 

“‘M just thinking.” He says dismissively, looking back into his cup to avoid the way your eyes bore into him, seeking more than what he has to offer. 

“That’s dangerous.” You counter instead, tapping at his temple again until he scowls and swats your hand away. 

“Ha ha ha, very funny. You should become a comedian.” 

“You think so? I’d miss my kids too much, but if you think I could, maybe I could take up a second job,” you laugh, “but then I wouldn’t have time for you-” 

“We wouldn’t want to take that from you,” he interrupts before you can finish, “your kids, I mean.” 

“Like I could live without you too.” You hum, knocking your knee into his. 

He gives you a genuine smile at that, and that’s enough to let you go back to whatever you were talking about before. 

ii. dead

“How long were you gonna keep it from me?” 

The words are bitter as Geto spits them out, arms crossing over his chest and head tilting while he takes in his friend. 

His friend, who doesn’t look bothered in the slightest by the venom being thrown his way. 

“Forever, if I could. Was really unlucky they happened to see you.” Gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, kicking at a crumpled piece of paper in the dark alley the two decided to have this chat in. 

“So you found them, and just decided keeping it to yourself was best? That I of all people didn’t deserve to know-” 

“They don’t remember anything about sorcerery.” 

Gojo’s declaration is enough to leave Geto almost gaping, before he squints and straightens his shoulders, “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said,” Gojo sighs out, leaning against the brick wall, “they don’t remember Jujutsu Tech for training, or any of the missions we went on - I don’t even think they remember how to see curses or use their technique. Think it’s just something that’s blocked in their mind.” 

“Have you tried talking to them about that?” Geto’s curiosity of it all getting the better of him. 

Gojo looks down, shaking his head, “No. I don’t . . . find it worth it. To spoil their happiness like that.” 

Geto clicks his tongue, “I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”  

“Doesn’t matter,” Gojo shrugs, stretching, “they’re content with what they know, with the life they’ve built. Neither of us are gonna ruin that for them.” 

“And if I do?” Geto challenges, chin rising and eyes narrowing, “Not like you can keep your eyes on them forever, and I think being a sorcerer is something someone deserves to know about themselves.” 

“I’ll kill you.” Gojo says easily. Calmly, if not for the way he glares behind his blindfold. 

Geto grins, all teeth, “I’d love for you to try.” 

iv. hypomnesia

A few weeks have passed since you first met Geto, and you fear he’s been ghosting you. You’ve sent a couple of texts, but the thought of annoying him overwrites any want to talk to him more, so you leave it be until he decides to message back - if ever. 

You’re submitting grades for some of your students when your phone dings. 

The sound honestly startles you, the classroom being silent other than the sound of your typing, and one glance to the device has you forgoing the B+ grade you were about to put in to instead unlock your phone and read the message. 

Geto 

Meet me at that cafe in two hours? 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard while you mull over a reply. 

You

i have plans with gojo then :( i can meet now if you’re free? 

You watch as the gray text bubble pops up, dancing on the screen before disappearing. 

Geto

Sure :) See you soon. 

You shut down your computer with a hum to yourself, making a mental note to finish when you get home before you and Gojo go out to dinner, grab your coat and your bag, and head out the door. 

Geto’s already in the cafe when you arrive, sitting in the same place from before, and offers a small smile when you sit across from him. 

“Were you waiting long? Sorry, I ran into one of my kids’ parents while I was leaving and they dragged me into a conversation about a project-” 

He waves dismissively, “Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t waiting too long.” 

You give a small sigh of relief, shoulders visabley relaxing at this, “Okay good. . . so, what’s up, how have you been these past few weeks?” You smile and Geto can’t stop himself from returning it. 

“‘ve been alright. I actually wanted to talk to you about something, though, if that’s alright. About our past.” 

Your brows shoot up in surprise, head tilting as the waiter brings you your drink. The same thing you’d ordered before. It’s sweet, almost, how he remembered. 

“What do you mean? Gojo and you already told me it all, right?” 

“Well,” he pauses to sip from his own drink, licking his lips before continuing, “it seems Gojo has left out details I thought he’d told you.” 

“Details?” You parrot, head tilting, “what do you mean?” 

He clicks his tongue as if deciding his next words carefully, using the straw to his drink to swirl it around in the cup, “You - we are something called sorcerers. We have abilities that allow us to use cursed techniques and defeat things called curses, and it’s what we attended Jujutsu Tech to train for.”

You’re openly staring at him as he speaks, opening your mouth to reply but stopping yourself when he continues, “When you lost your memory, we were fighting some curses and you . . . you fell off a building, and we couldn’t find you in the rubble after.” He reaches out to grab your hand, and you flinch at the movement, not even realizing you were shaking until his own clasps over yours. 

Everything was blurring around you. 

The ground was rushing towards you so fast and so slow, and the wind whipping around your ears made it harder to process what’d happened seconds before. 

You were hit, you think. By a curse or a person or something. You don’t know. You don’t remember. It hit you, and now you’re falling, and your cursed technique wouldn’t do you any good now if you could use it. 

What even was it again? 

The rush of air flowing past your ears is unbearable, everything around you melting into one mess, until all at once, all you feel is nothing.  

You yank your hand from his with a gasp, eyes wide and cradling it to yourself as if he’s burned you. 

“What was that?” You whisper out, voice quivering. 

Geto’s smile is gentle as he retracts his own hand, placing it atop the other in his lap, “Your memories, I imagine, are back now?” 

“What was that?” You repeat, fingers clutching the front of your shirt as if it could bring you some comfort. Closing your eyes for a second brings everything crashing back to you, the rush of the wind, the feeling of free falling, the chair behind you falls to the ground as you stand abruptly, sucking in a breath as if all the air has been stolen from your lungs. 

Maybe it has, if the way you’re breathing is anything to go by. 

He reaches forward, maybe to comfort you, maybe to help calm you down, but you’re stepping away before you can find out. Hurt flashes in his eyes, only for a second, then he’s dropping his hands back into his lap and gesturing to something to his right. 

Your eyes meet . . . something. A small blob of green fat floating beside Geto, and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from screaming or puking or whatever squeak could pass your lips. 

“I think we should take a second to calm down,” he’s starting to say, but you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, hear the way your heartbeat is thumping in your chest, and you’re turning on your heel before you can fully process the movement. 

“(y/n)-” he’s calling out, standing to follow you, but when you don’t turn to acknowledge it, he stays in place. You just need some time alone to process it. He understands. He can wait. 

For you, he can wait. 

You stumble home, avoiding other blobs of flesh and things even taller than you that you can only assume are the curses that Geto’d started to tell you about. Maybe you should’ve stayed long enough to relearn about them. You can only offer a half-hearted apology as your shoulder bumps into someone in the hall to your apartment. 

Vertigo takes over when the familiar smell of Gojo surrounds you, and he catches you before you can fall over. 

“Woah, slow down there, what’s goin’ on?” He asks, leading you to your door when you don’t answer. 

He eases your keys from your shaking hands, unlocking your door and guiding you inside while you hold him like a lifeline. 

“Why dontcha tell me what’s wrong?” He whispers gently as he sets you on the couch, fixing your shirt when it wrinkles but freezing when you grab his wrist to stop him. 

“You didn’t tell me everything.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s almost damning the way you speak. 

“What’re you talking ‘bout?” Gojo asks like you’ve said something silly, like he can’t believe what you’re saying because surely Geto hasn’t ruined this for him - ruined this for you. 

“Curses, Gojo? Techniques and training and-and,” your breathing is getting erratic again, unsteady as your grip tightens around his wrists. 

“I need you to breathe.” His voice is stable as he speaks, even and calm despite the way your eyes are boring into him. Tears poke at the corners of your eyes, fighting to fall, but you blink them away and force yourself to take a breath. 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin the life you’ve built.” He explains softly, so fucking softly, it almost makes the anger and panic and every other horrible emotion that found home in your veins slip away. 

But when you close your eyes for a second, you can feel it again. The falling, the open air, the pure fear before you hit the ground - and it has you pushing him away from you by the shoulders to stand with a teary-eyed glare. 

“That wasn’t for you to decide.” You clench your teeth to will the tears from falling, but they do anyway in streaks down your cheeks. 

“Do you think you’ll be happier now, knowing everything? Remembering everything?” 

His tone is nowhere near condescending as he asks, but it bites into you like a bullet because you just don’t know. Would seeing curses make you happier? Would knowing about your past, having your memories back be a good thing like you’d always hoped it would? 

“I need you to leave, Gojo.” It’s surprising how even your tone is, wiping away hastily at your cheeks and standing straighter. 

“C’mon, (y/n), don’t be like that-” 

“I need to think and I-I can’t. I can’t with you here, please, just go.” 

When you look up at him again, he realizes how truly worn you are. Maybe from reseeing curses, maybe from the abruptness of it all. With his mouth in a thin line, he nods and turns on his heel. 

He’ll wait for you to reach out. He can wait. For you, he can wait. 

geto ending [ tbp ] ༝ ༝ gojo ending [ tbp ]

[writersblockedx]

Spare me the Details, Part Two

Pairing - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader Summary - Rafe starts to cling onto the sudden connection while JJ tries to knock some sense into his best friend. Warnings - Angst!! Mentions of sex and violence, Drug and Alcohol use Words - 4K

A/n - I can’t stop writing cliffhanger endings

Read Part One Here Masterlist 

Don't let it turn into anything.

The words which suddenly taunted her.

JJ's scowl was burning and Y/n knew she was in for it. The next moments felt like a blur. The feeling of Rafe still haunted her lips, her minds buzzed off the feeling of doing something she shouldn't have. Then, within an instant, that feeling was mixed in with streaks of guilt as she faced her best friend who had never looked so betrayed.

The one person she had kissed, was the one she shouldn't have. All Y/n recalled was that scowl. The one that said a million words within a glance. All within an instant, she was following after JJ who was storming into the chateau. He didn't have it in him to look at her. To speak to her. To even think about her. It seemed his memory was already captivated by that image. Of Y/n so close to Rafe, their lips brushing with his hands trailing all over her. It was killing him.

"I know what you're thinking, JJ! And I'm sorry, it wasn't- I don't know how it happened. I know it's stupid, I know I'm being stupid, but you have to believe me, I didn't mean for anything to happen, it just did." She was yelling, begging, pleading, just preying she might spit out something that might urge him to look at her again.

They got so far into the chateau, just passed the kitchen table when JJ stopped. Y/n stopped too. She took a breath and when the boy turned, a part of her wished he hadn't. The expression which faced her wasn't one she'd ever seen on JJ before. It was seething, drowned in fury, his eyes burning so much she could have sworn they flickered red. "I thought you'd be able to come up with something a bit better than that." He scoffed. "Go on about how that kiss was just a part that elaborate he came up with." His head tilted, "Or was that a lie too?"

Her head shook as she took a cautious step forward. JJ stepped back. A part of her broke, finding that her best friend couldn't bare to even be so close to her, as if Rafe's touch had infected her. "No, it wasn't a lie." She assured. "There's no excuses, other than it just happened and I can promise you it won't happen again."

"You promise huh?" The thought of such seemed laughable to JJ now. "You said the same thing before you went into that stupid party! You promised it wouldn't turn into anything."

"And now I'm promising you that it's nothing." This time, when she took a step, JJ didn't back away. "How many tourons have you kissed that meant nothing? All the meaningless sex you had last Summer with random girls?"

"Yeah but they were random girls, tourons." He pointed out. "They weren't Rafe fucking Cameron."

There came a pause. Y/n's head dropped. "I know, I know." If there was one person in this world she was meant to stay clear of, it was Rafe. "I get your angry, trust me, I'm angry at myself." By the time she had looked back up at JJ, his expression had softened. Just a little, the fury was still there, but it was fading with her words. "But can we please just forgot abut this? I'll make sure I never have to see him again, tell my parents it just- it didn't work out."

She had taken another step, close enough she was able to take his hands in hers, letting their fingers interwind. "Please, JJ. The worst feeling in this world is you being mad at me."

There were many times JJ felt he was weak at Y/n's gaze. But this took the top spot. Even when he was bubbling in rage, he wanted nothing more than to appease her, to hold her, to tell her everything was okay. He was always at her side, like the armour she never wore. So when she called for him, he was there. Always.

The door to the chateau swung open and the air shifted. JJ sniffled and the two took a step from each. John B was stood in the door, puzzled at the tense atmosphere he was intruding on. "Oh, hey guys," He spoke, breaking the silence which was suffocating them. "What's going on?"

Y/n looked to JJ; moment of truth. Either they pretended this had never happened, or the rest of the pogues (and Sarah) were about to discover her demise. "Nothing." He shrugged, but his tone was uncertain - something John B had easily caught wind of. "I'm gonna hit the hay." And with that, he wandered into the spare bedroom.

It was the first time Y/n could remember when both her and JJ were crashing at John B's and they didn't share the same sleeping arrangements. It was an unspoken rule that they slept side by side in the spare bedroom, the sofa or even the hammock outside. But that night, for reasons which would continue to daunt them, they slept with an empty space next to them.

Within a week, things had started to seep back into normal. Sure her parents were disappointed about her choice to cut things off with Rafe, and there came the odd comment here and there about it, but Y/n was happy to secure her usual pogue life once again.

It seemed like it was all behind her, as if there were no way anything at all could ruin the spot she was in. Then Rafe returned. Like a cockroach that refused to die out, Rafe wasn't giving in.

She'd been covering Kiera's shift at the Wreck so she could sneak off on a date with Pope. Her hands had been filled with plates, weaving between the hungry customers, when she gazed up. Everything seemed to pause. The chaotic atmosphere which once was plastered over the restaurant had to pause as Y/n sucked in a much-needed breath. Standing at the front of house, awaiting service, was Rafe, Topper and Kelce.

A huff escaped her lips. She quickly dipped her head down, heading towards the kitchen. With her plates dropped off by the sink, she should have been in search of her next duty. But her next duty was one which was taunting her without even doing anything. All Rafe had to do was stand there and her chest would tighten, her mind losing any speckle of logic.

Rafe and Kooks in general didn't really show up to the Wreck. In fact, for the whole time Y/n and Kie had been friends, she must have counted only a couple of Kooks ever wandering in here. They much preferred the more expensive restaurants on the coast, painted in true Figure 8 fashion. The Wreck attracted tourists, not Rafe and his friends.

Y/n must have lingered in the kitchens for at least five minutes, waiting, willing for one of the other staff members to pick up the group stranded at the front of the building. Alas, there came no saviour for Y/n. Instead, she huffed, and knew if she didn't move soon, Kie's dad would be on her tail. And, well, the money had always been decent at the Wreck, so she plucked up the courage and reminded herself Rafe wasn't here for her, he was here for food and that was all he would be getting.

"Table for three?" She started, grasping a few menus in her grip.

Rafe's eyes jumped. They were narrow and enticing, the memory of the kiss seemingly written in his pupils. "Hey, Y/n." A smirk grew at his lips which felt all too familiar. "That'd be great, thanks."

Her eyes flickered to Topper and Kelce who had said nothing, not wanting to look at the pogue they had despised for years now. "This way." She said before leading the group towards a table near the back where she didn't have to look at them.

It hadn't taken long for Y/n to start thinking maybe she had overcomplicated things. Rafe, along with his two friends, sat in that corner and did nothing out of the usual. Well, apart from the fact they had chosen to eat here out of all places. Maybe she had been wrong. They ate their meal, paid their bill, without anything unexpected.

She had just been about to take a great sigh of relief when they headed for the door. Then a hand gripped her waist.

Y/n had been in the midst of taking an order back to the kitchen when the feeling had stopped her, tugging her to a halt. When she turned to face her perpetrator, she found Rafe, far too close for comfort. She had wanted to asked what the fuck he was doing, but A) she didn't have the courage and B) he'd started talking first.

"I heard you told mummy and daddy you didn't like me very much." His voice was taunting, almost to the point it was patronising. "Why'd you do that?" He tilted his head, looking down at her with the same look he had given at midsummer, like she was prey.

But she swallowed and picked at every slither of confidence she had left. Her hand clenched the one he held at her waist, shoving it away from her. "Because I don't like you very much, Rafe-"

She could have gone on but he cut the words right from her lips, "Oh, really? I got a different impression." He was close, but it was more threatening than it was suggestive.

"Well, now I'm giving you the opposite one." She was trying her best to sound sure of herself.

As it turns out, she wasn't trying hard enough. "Are you?" There was a glint in his eyes; he knew exactly what he was doing and it was pissing her off.

She should have said something more. Said what she had told JJ, that this was nothing, that she didn't ever what to look at his face again. But instead, he smirked and retracted away from her. He left with that glint. That one Y/n should have squashed into nothing. That one she knew was going to continue to cause her trouble. Her eyes never left. She watched Rafe until he jumped into his car: what the hell was she doing?

Y/n had tried not to think so much about it after that. Key word: tried. The thought of Rafe Cameron, the knowing that it was something that she utterly shouldn't be thinking of, had only made it all that more captivating. But she made no move for contact. She went on, pretending as if they hadn't kissed, as if there wasn't something there. The only people to know any different was Rafe himself and her best friend, JJ.

So when all three were mixed in, the ending was bound to be a bad one. They had been tying the HMS Pogue up to a dock, far too close to Figure 8. Something which was a more frequent occurrence with John B and Sarah dating now. Y/n had a joint between her lips, giggling at something JJ had said as they waited for John B to collect his girlfriend. Then Kie's voice broke over all others, "What the hell is he looking at?"

Their laughs had faded. All four of them glanced up toward the Cameron resident. Lingering outside was Rafe. And as Kie had put it, he was looking right at them, without even trying to hide it. While Y/n felt as if she couldn't look away, JJ's eyes were turned to her. He was watching closely. And while he knew his best friend, knew her expressions like the back of his hand, the one she was wearing then was unreadable.

Kie spun back around, her brows raised, "What happened between you two again?"

Her question brought Y/n out of her stare, taking the joint to her lips before she dared answer. "Nothing." Her word came with a shrug, hoping Kie would drop it just as quick as she had brought it up.

"S'not what it looked like." Pope commented, his voice low, unsure as to what reaction he might have just prompted.

"I already told you, I was doing what I needed to, get my parents off my back." She explained, suddenly feeling JJ's intense shadow at the side of her.

"Then why's he still staring? Hm?"

Y/n swore in that moment she had never wanted to slap Pope more. "Because he's Rafe Cameron." That should have been enough, but she went on just in case. "He's a dick."

A sigh came from her side. JJ stood close to her, swinging one arm around her shoulder while the other reached for the joint. "When did all our conversation revoled around the Camerons?" He questioned. "I mean first Sarah-" There had been some controversy when she and John B started dated (mainly on Kie's side). "And now fucking Rafe. Let's just drop it you know? I miss our old conversations."

He brought the joint to his lips, not noting the way Kie's hands stuck to her hips like a disapproving mother. "You mean you want to get high and giggle at every stupid thing that comes out of your mouth?"

Such had brought a smile to his lips within itself, "Exactly!"

And well, with the idea implanted in JJ's mind, that's what they did. With Sarah and John B back on board, they sailed back to the chateau. With drinks and weed, they settled in their true pogue state. High or drunk as shit, giggling at every stupid thing that came out their mouths. They were in and out of the hot tub, darting between each other as conversation ran like a river.

At some point, Y/n and Kie hand found themselves in the hammock, laid ever so lazily, their legs scattered over each other. They were sharing a half-empty can of beer when their words fell into a comfortable silence. Such silence had brought on some wandering thoughts Kie had been having for a while now. "Do you ever notice it?" Her voice spoke over the echoing laughter of the rest of the group who were situated by the hot tub.

"Notice what?" Y/n said, a grin hanging at her lips.

"JJ."

Her brows furrowed and a confused chuckle escaped her throat, "I think he's hard to miss sometimes." He was loud, at times obnoxious, but loveable all the same.

Kie was watching her best friend carefully. Just like JJ, she knew her well. But, unlike JJ, she wasn't plagued with doubts about whether his feelings were unrequited. "I mean, do you notice him with you?" Y/n's smile dissipated at that, a puzzled expression taking over. Kie could tell her best friend was lost, so she went on, "Like the way he looks at you sometimes, or the way he stands next to...like all the time!"

There was a grin at Kie's lips, waiting for the girl across from her to catch on. "Kie, what are you implying?"

"Just sometimes you two look like more than friends." She said such meaningful words with a shrug. As if they were nothing. As she just hadn't accidentally exposed JJ.

While the blond had never explicitly said it (at least not while he were sober), it was always written over him. His pupils wide with awe, his skin begging to clash with hers and a mind so captivated it could melt. John B had teased him about it mercilessly, lucky Y/n was too oblivious to catch on. But now she was looking over at him.

In that moment, JJ couldn't have been more in his element. With legs hanging into the hot tub water, he was in the midst of a well elaborated joke, soon to erupt chuckles from the other pogues. He was completely unaware of what that moment had meant to Y/n. Suddenly, she wasn't looking at her best friend, fellow pogue, instead she was looking at what could be.

"He really likes you." Came Kiara's voice, bringing her back to reality as her stares broke from JJ.

"Then why has he never said anything?"

There came a very simple answer from the girl: "Because it's scary. You know how long it took Pope to ask me out!" That month building up had been a month of everyone cheering the boy on.

"Yeah, but this is JJ. He doesn't think twice before asking a girl out, flirting with them. It's like second nature to him."

"But you're not just some girl to him, Y/n." Kie's eyes softened as the fairy lights glistened against her features. "You're his best friend, you're more than that and I'm pretty sure he's been in love you for a while now."

And like that, with one conversation, everything had changed.

After that night, she never looked at JJ the same. Her gaze was curious. With every glance, she found herself wondering, imagining what a life could look like with JJ Maybank. His hand in hers as they wandered the streets of the Cut. A great announcement to the rest of the pogues that they had finally made it official. Even just the simplicity of waking up next to him and feeling nothing but love. Thoughts of which JJ had imagined a million times over too.

The thoughts had tossed and turned in her head for the next week. She thought about talking to Kie about it again, asking for advice. How was she meat to turn a decade long friendship into something more?

She had just been about to leave the house when a knock came from her front door. Her brows narrowed; she usually had a bit of warning before one of the pogues turned up at her door step. Alas, she scurried to the front door and came to realise why there had been no warning. It wasn't a pogue that she soon faced, but instead, Rafe Cameron. She should have known. Right when things were beginning to lighten up, Rafe had to shove himself back in front of her face again.

Y/n looked him up and down, a scowl written into her expression, "What are you doing here?" The question left her lips with a snap.

"What do you mean?" He quppied in reply. "Your parents wanted to talk to me."

She could have laughed, "My parents? They're not even her-" She cut herself off. She should have seen it coming. Her parents weren't ones to drop ideas so quickly. So when they had let the Rafe thing go with a few throw away comments, Y/n should have noted it was out of character. It was in fact not so; they hadn't dropped it at all. "Oh, my God." She sighed through her words.

"What?" Rafe was standing by the doorway, still oblivious to the string they were hanging from.

"My parents set this up." Her index finger was pointing between the two of them. "They don't want to talk to you. They want me to."

A quick, "Oh," Left Rafe's lips before his shoulders relaxed and he went silent.

"Well?" Y/n prompted.

"Well, what?" Rafe had a brow raised.

Y/n, however, had something of a seething expression and burning glare. "Are you gonna leave?"

He shrugged, "But I'm already here." He took a step forward, his chest soon clashing with the firm palm of Y/n's hand.

"And I don't care." Their tones repelled like magnets. She couldn't stand his smug exterior, how he stood there like it were casual, like he hadn't caused such a rift in between her and JJ not long since. "I want you to leave Rafe."

She couldn't have been more clear with her words. But still, she felt a tingle at her finger tips, Rafe's fingers brushing against her own. It was purposeful - and it was working. "I don't think you do. Not really."

His breath made her itch. So much so, she didn't dare make a move to speak. Rather, she watched Rafe carefully. He leaned in, but he didn't kiss her. He lingered and, ever so close, his hushed tone muttered, "I'll see you around." And like that, his touch, the feeling of him so close to her, flashed away like he had never been there.

There followed a flush of emotions, anger seemed at the front, but there followed guilt, curiosity and while she wouldn't admit it, desire. She stood in that doorway until she figured out what she was going to do. Y/n knew she couldn't go back inside, pretending as if nothing had happened, as if Rafe hadn't just turned her world upside down (again). The way she saw it, she needed a distraction, something that would stop her from delving too deep into the thoughtful thread of Rafe Cameron.

So she found herself at the doorstep of JJ Maybank. She was sure a joint, some food and reality TV would follow. It was their usual when they needed a break, needed to forgot about everything that went passed just the two of them. Her knuckles knocked at the door and she waited patiently, limiting the wondering thoughts about what Rafe might be doi-

The door swung open; Y/n felt like she'd just been caught. "Hi," The greeting left her mouth like it was a relief. "Can we talk?"

Her mind had been spinning so much, she hadn't been able to work out the anxious look that plagued JJ. "Yeah, come on in," He muttered as the two wandered inside. JJ gestured towards the couch where his dad was well into sleep, "Don't worry about him, he's been out cold for a few hours now." He explained.

The boy led the way towards his room, shutting the door behind them. "I was wondering when you were gonna show up, knew you wouldn't do it by text." He was leaning against his dresser, an uncertain smile drawing at his lips.

Y/n tilted her head, "What are you talking about?" She inquired.

"Kie told me that well, she'd told you." The thoughts came flooding back, the echos of Kie's words suddenly running

"JJ-"

She was about to go on about how that truly wasn't the reason she was stood here now. Granted, it was a conversation to be had and maybe that would come. But all she wanted in that moment was a friend, her best friend. "Can I just say, I've been meaning to say something. I mean, it's been years, right? I just didn't know when and I wanted to be like...perfect."

She took a step forward, wanting to stop this before he got ahead of himself, "We don't have to do this right now." She offered.

But her best friend wasn't one for listening. "I mean is there really such a thing like perfect timing?" Before she realised it, JJ had moved from the dresser, walking over to her and looking at her like there was nothing stopping him. His hand reached her cheek and in that moment, there came a relief from his lips, "Hi."

"JJ-" His lips hit hers.

She should have stopped him. She have stopped Rafe.

Because now, within an instant, she was torn. She was in a puzzle she didn't know how to get out of. A part of her wondered if there even was a way out.

-

Taglist - @pinkydevil16 @whorefordrew @positivelyholland​ @neteyems-wifu-frfr @slvtherinseeker​ @spencereidbasis​ Click here to get added to a taglist

[faerietells]

“Princess? Forgive me for this intrusion but please wake up.”

Being the light sleeper that you are, you are quick to be woken up even from the lightest touch on your shoulder, especially when you also heard a voice of a man in your chamber at such an ungodly hour. Panic filled your chest for few seconds, your mind racing as you thought of the worst as you got up into a sitting position. You’ve never encountered any assassin before but what if someone did send an assassin to hurt you? In pure panic and fear, you quickly turned your head to the owner of the voice, already preparing yourself for the worst when you realized that the man in your room is none other than your trusted knight, Alastair.

“Alastair. By the gods, you’d give me heart attack one of these days,” you tell him, relief washing over you as you realized he’s not an assassin or anything of the sort. It didn’t last very long, however, as you see the conflicted and grim expression he wore on his face. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”

“I really don’t know how to tell you this without sounding insane, but…" he paused, hesitation evident in his voice. "Do you remember when I tell you that I am a Dreamer?”

You nod slowly. Of course you remember. It’s not everyday you meet someone who could actually predict the future through their dreams. Not to mention that since Alastair is half-fae, his dreams are even more accurate than most Dreamers’ so it really piqued your interest ever since you found out about his gift. “Of course. What of it?”

He opened his mouth only to close it again, seemingly torn on what to do. You didn’t push him to talk, though, you just wait patiently until he’s ready to tell you. You trust him and you believe whatever he saw in his dream must’ve been very important for him to come to your room this late at night. He’s not even wearing his armor either so he must’ve rushed to go here as soon as he woke up, which only confirms to you that whatever he saw must’ve really haunted him.

“Please, I can’t apologize enough for intruding your chamber at this hour but you must believe me when I say you cannot stay here any longer,” he finally told you after he weighed his options.

“Here? As in this chamber?” you frowned in confusion.

“No, as in this Kingdom.”

You blinked in disbelief of what you’ve just heard. “I… I don’t follow,” you muttered softly, your anxiety growing by the second. “What do you mean by that?”

“I saw it in my dream. I saw how the new Queen had framed you, making you look as though you tried to poison your stepbrother. She then demanded for you to be punished for attempting to murder her son.” He looks at you, sadness evident in his amber eyes. “Princess… the King allowed the execution to take place.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as his words rung in your ears. You never did have a good relationship with your father. Ever since you were little, the King was distant toward you, cold even. Some said it's because you resemble your late mother but others disagree, saying that's just how he is. Nevertheless, you would never think that your father would let you perish. He might ignore you but he couldn’t possibly hurt you, right? You are his only child, after all.

Well, unfortunately for you it seems like you are greatly mistaken, judging from what your trusted knight saw in his dreams. You really can't blame him for deciding to barge into your room after what he saw. It must've really rattled him and if you were in his shoes you'd probably do the same thing, especially considering how close the two of you are.

“So what…” you paused as you try your best to calm yourself. “What should I do? Should I bring this up to my father or—”

“I think we should leave,” he suggested, much to your surprise. Your mouth hung open as you tried to process his suggestion and he quickly elaborated. “It sounds extreme, I know, but I genuinely think that the risk is far too high for us to stay and figure out how to avoid that outcome while you still live here.”

“We?”

Your question seemed to catch him off guard and you noticed how his cheeks are dusted with pink as he’d realized what he said. “Yes,” he replied sheepishly. “If you would allow me to come with you, that is. You’d need all the help you can get and I can offer you my protection.”

“Absolutely not. You’d break your oath to my father if you come with me. I can’t allow you to sacrifice your honor for my sake,” you refused. In all the years you’ve known him, he’s not only been kind to you, but he might as well be your only true friend. You simply cannot allow him to do that, even if it’s for your own safety because if he did break the oath not only he’d sacrifice his honor but he’d also be seen as a traitor, which is punishable by death. What kind of friend would you be if you allow him to take such a risk?

Clearly Alastair thinks differently, though. His face hardened as he was reminded of your father and his oath as a knight to him. Who’s to say your father would not make him turn his blade against you? His oath would've demanded him to do so should your father ever ask him to, regardless of what he feels for you. “I don’t care,” he said with this determined look on his face. “If helping you makes me an oathbreaker then so be it. Your father was the one who knighted and assigned me as your personal knight, it’s true. But he’s not the one I care about so I couldn’t care less about what he thinks.”

Your quickly shushed him as you rushed to put your hand over his mouth, panic filled your chest once again after he made that bold declaration. If anyone hears it, he’s a dead man and yet he doesn’t seem to care, which is both bewildering and frustrating to you. How could he not care about his own well being? In contrast of the panic and anxiety that marred your features, you don’t see even a shred of doubt in his eyes. You could only see determination and devotion there and you can't decide whether it's heartwarming or concerning for him to put you over everything else.

“Do not be a fool, Alastair. The walls have ears,” you warned him in hushed voice. This didn’t seem to deter him, but since he didn’t want to stress you out even more he decided to keep whatever he had to say about your father to himself.

“Let me come with you. Please,” he pleaded as he held your hand. “I’d beg if I have to, I just… I can’t let you go out there on your own. What if something bad happened and there’s no one to help you?”

You sigh, knowing full well how stubborn he is. He seems to have made up his mind about this and truth be told, you also didn’t really want to leave without him. And he's right, you can't really be sure that you wouldn't ever be in danger out there. You can barely fight as it is so having one of the best knights in the Kingdom by your side would definitely be helpful in the long run.

“Fine,” you finally relented, much to his delight and relief. “Pack up your thing. We’re leaving now.”

“Okay! I’ll be quick, I promise!”

He planted a quick grateful kiss on your knuckle before he left your room in a rush, leaving you completely speechless. You shook your head in attempt to clear your thoughts as you look around your room, trying to figure out what to bring with you while you try to process what just happened. You knew you’d leave your home one day, but not even in your wildest dream you’d imagine it’d be like this. Alas, it seems like fate doesn’t favor you this time. It truly is a shame, you would’ve loved to see your stepbrother grow up. Although you can’t deny that his mother is an unpleasant person to be around, you and him have grown to care about each other. You don't even want to imagine how he'd react to your sudden disappearance and although you wish nothing more than to be able to say goodbye to him in person, you knew it wouldn’t be wise so you decided to just leave a goodbye letter instead.

Taking in a deep breath, you tell yourself that you can cry about all of this later and just focus on what’s in front of you. For now, you need to survive and get out of this Kingdom, preferably without anyone noticing until you’re far enough.

“Well then,” you mutter to yourself in attempt to make yourself feel better, “I suppose it’s time to go on an adventure.”

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 11- Pregnancy sex

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 1.6k

Rating: 18+

Warning: GirlDad!Jack (too adorable to not be warned), mentions of pregnancy tiredness, shaken self-esteem, praising, oral (f receiving), face-to-face sex, cry during sex.

Masterlist

Even before became your husband, Jack already was the most incredible man you’ve ever met and, not surprising you, he became even more amazing when you got pregnant. He cried like a child when you showed him the positive test and after that day he never left your belly away from his hands again. Your stomach haven’t started to grow or the baby started to move yet, but Jack was already spending hours caressing your belly and talking with the baby.

His excitement and proud dad behavior when the baby kicked for the first time just wasn’t bigger than his melted and happy reaction when the doctor confirmed that the baby was a girl. Jack spent the following hours talking about the dollhouses, dresses, plushies, the pony, and the tiny pink cowboy hat he was planning to buy for his little princess. And obviously, your baby wasn’t the only one he was planning to spoil.

If Jack already pampered you before, now he was coming back home every day with half of the grocery store for you. Your favorite foods? At that point you believed that he could read your mind, ‘cause you didn’t have to ask for them anymore, he’d always come home with the exact one you were craving for. Do anything around the house? You were strictly forbidden to. In the first weeks, he kept bringing the medical recommendations of not making any effort to not let you move a finger. When you were around six months of pregnancy, his excuse changed to “Sugar, you’re already doing too much carrying our little girl, there’s no chance I’m letting you touch these dishes.”

And honestly? You weren’t complaining about a single thing.

You always imagined that being pregnant wasn’t easy, but you didn’t imagine that you’d be so exhausted even before reaching eight months. Your lower back was killing you most of the time, and lying down to sleep was getting more challenging every single day, such as putting on shoes, not only because your belly was pretty big, but because it seemed that every part of your body decided to swell along with your stomach.

As it happened a lot in the last weeks, you were comfortably settled on Jack’s lap, while he gently massaged your lower back, you weren’t in pain that afternoon, but you wouldn’t miss a chance to have your husband taking care of you. You smiled when you felt the baby moving a bit and kicking softly, your body was nestled against Jack, so he could notice the baby’s moves too.

“Easy, little one.” He looked down and caressed your belly “Be gentler with mommy.” He leaned forward and kissed your belly, smiling when the baby moved a bit more hearing his voice “I can’t wait to meet you, my little angel. And I bet my little girl will be as beautiful as her mother.” As usual, he was almost turning into a puddle, caressing and kissing your belly a couple more times.

“I hope you’re talking about my pre-pregnancy look.” You said quietly and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re talking like you’re not looking like a damn goddess right now, honey.” He answered promptly and kissed your cheek.

“If the comparison is a watermelon, I’m really looking good.” You chuckled softly.

“You mean?” he raised one eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“C’mon, I’m turning into a ball every passing day. There’s no single part of me that ain’t growing.” You explained calmly.

“I still don't see the problem.” He said while passing his arms around you “I mean, I ain’t complaining about it.” You blinked a few times, processing his sincere answer.

“Elaborate, please.” You settled better on his lap, resting your arms on his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, letting aside the fact that your belly is the most beautiful thing in this world, I couldn’t be more amazed by how stunning you look now, not to mention that your hips and butt are looking more incredible that any work of art.” Jack said it with all the naturalness of this world and you couldn’t hide your surprised expression.

“Alright, I’ll admit that you caught me off guard with this.” You smiled softly, caressing his hair.

“How many times do I have to remind you that you’re my biggest weak spot, sugar?” he caressed your lower back and leaned to kiss you calmly.

You relaxed on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands moving up and down on your back. You settled better on his lap, grabbing his hair with one of your hands and already feeling the pregnancy hormones working on you, not letting you notice when you started to move your hips. Aware of how much your hormones were making you unbelievably horny recently, Jack followed your rhythm, letting his hands caress all over your body.

Still focused on the kiss, you started to unbutton his shirt, getting rid of it and letting your hands move on his skin. Jack smiled against your lips, moving his hands up your thighs and lifting your dress slowly, and only breaking the kiss to move your dress over your head, letting you with no clothes left, being seven and half months pregnant, the last thing you wanted was panties or a bra smashing you.

Calmly, Jack placed you on the bed, kissing your neck and slowly moving down your body, being a bit more careful with the intensity of his caresses, aware that you were more sensitive. When he planted a kiss on the lower part of your belly, you started to squirm a bit, craving for more. Aware of your needs, he didn’t procrastinate before settling between your legs and moving his mouth to your throbbing clit.

You grabbed his hair tight and moaned, involuntarily moving your hips as you felt the warm touch of his tongue on the precise rhythm to drive you crazy in no time, which, associated with the improved sensibility down there that the pregnancy was causing you, was more than enough for you to whimper, contort, and moan his name audibly. And of course, Jack wouldn’t make things easier for you, moving his hands over your body, caressing every inch of it. You didn’t even bother to try to hold back and just allowed yourself to squeeze his head between your thighs and moan even louder as you hit your climax, softening on the bed almost instantly after it.

Recovering your rational thoughts, you turned on the bed, lying on your side, at that point of pregnancy, the only minimal comfortable way to lie down. You smiled when Jack lay by your side, you could see the remnants of his well-done job on his mustache and lips, and, judging by the smirk on his face, you weren’t the only one very satisfied with it. Not wanting to waste time, you pulled him closer and kissed him, savoring your taste in his mouth and already starting to feel needy again. By your desperate grip on his hair and your nails sinking softly on his shoulder, Jack knew that he still had a job to do and he wasn’t a man who left a task unfinished.

When he finally interrupted the kiss, for a brief moment you wondered how was it possible for Jack to get rid of those tight jeans so effortlessly quick. Promptly he turned all his attention back to you, kissing you once more while holding one of your legs, wrapping it over his hips. You whimpered softly as he rubbed the tip of his cock all over your wet folds before moving inside you, making your nails sink more deeply into his skin and your grip on his hair get tighter. He moved his hand up to your back, keeping you the closest your pregnant belly allowed, his other arm was placed under your head, his bicep being your comfortable pillow while his hand caressed your hair.

Even when you needed to catch your breath, you kept your face close to his smiling and closing your eyes when the hand once on your back cupped your face and he caressed your cheek softly. He moved on a slow pace, showering your face and neck with kisses, sometimes stopping with them just to take a look at how beautiful you looked with that calm and pleased expression on your face.

“I love you so much, sugar.” He whispered and kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile widely and caress his hair.

“I love you too, cowboy.” You whispered back as he rested his forehead on yours, looking deeply into your eyes, making you get on your limit and drop a few tears.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Jack questioned while gently wiping the tears away from your face.

“I think I’m just happier than I can handle.” You answered with a smile.

“Can’t say I don’t like to hear that.” He smiled and softly pressed his lips against yours, resting his hand on your back.

Undoubtedly, both of you could stay the whole day like that, enjoying each other’s caresses and kisses on that cozy slow make-love session, but as expected, nature had to follow its course while making both of you get closer to the limit at each passing minute. Involuntarily you tightened your leg around Jack as your body started to make those small involuntary movements, which just got more intense when you felt the precise soft movement of his fingers on your clit. You sank your face against his neck, letting your nails softly scratch his arm as your body was taken by that good feeling, and in no time, you were moaning his name once more while you enjoyed your orgasm, whimpering softly as you felt him filling you after let out a hoarse moan. You relaxed and nestled against him, enjoying the comfortable mess of tangled limbs you two had become, smiling when Jack kissed the top of your head and caressed your belly.

Cowboytober Masterlist

[mirangel]

Bird Venti/Barbados on his mating season (bc he canonically have bird wings, with his Archeon form.) please this has been inside my head for weeks now, and Zhongli/Morax as a substitute (please ignore/burn it, if this if it's too weird)

-😊🔪 (new anon)

mating season with zhongli and venti !

cw: no foreplay, overstimulation, multiple creampies, double dick

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

for venti, mating season makes him so much more livelier, not just during sex! he’s so active, preparing songs dedicated to you and singing them constantly, preparing what he calls a “nest” which is really just an elaborate pillow fort with a blanket full of clothes. he’s so affectionate too, always clinging onto you no matter the time of day. not to mention he’s so much more flashy, he shows off to you constantly, but he’s arguably so much worse in bed!

venti takes the initiative, his desperate desire and intuition to breed you full takes over his brain! he jumps onto you without hesitation the minute you get close to the nest he’s created. stripping the two of you with abandon, rutting into you without even any prep at all! he’s just so horny all he can think of is your tight hole! it hurts so bad but it feels so good at the same time, he peppers your face with kisses, and he cums so quickly he can’t stop himself!

venti can’t stop himself from cumming, so minutes later he cums again, and an hour later the both of you are so overstimulated, all you can think about is sex! he then reminds you that this is gonna happen for the next two weeks, but he assures you that you can handle it!

zhongli is so so possessive!! he never lets you out of his sight! he always has an arm around you, and even though he has a calm facade, he’s so so horny!! he wants to bend you over and fuck you right then and there!! he also takes the time to prepare a nest for the both of you, but it’s surrounded by things more debauched than the ameno god’s nest, like your recently used underwear stained with his cum! when it’s time for his heat, he prefers to coax you into your shared nest with words, his lust filled eyes boring into your soul, waiting to devour you.

he’ll give you the best oral of your life! zhongli makes you cum at least thrice with his ever so skilled tongue before he even fucks you! he’s so desperate he’s rutting into the bedsheets, but your pleasure comes first! once he believes you’re throughly prepared, he’ll bully one of his big fat cocks into you, the other rested on your stomach, as if it’s reminding you of how big he is! he mumbles about making you his mate, how perfect you are for him.

cum leaks from your hole by the time he’s done with you for the night, even though he’s plugged you up with his cock so nice! he says that maybe you’re ready for his other cock as well, it’s your duty as his mate after all!

the research i had to do for venti’s is insane but it was so worth it! i’m always such a big fan of anything related to the archons and mating season, more sex ideas!!!

[merlincersei]

Merlin BBC UK TV Show - A Psychological Analysis Series Part 8

“ The deterioration of Arwen in season 5”

My biggest takeaway from Season 5 is how the Arwen ship was dismantled piece by piece by the show creators.

In season 5, Arthur and Gwen are married, but their relationship was shown to be exceedingly formal, chaste, without true communication and lack of personal touch. Let me elaborate:

Formal : They never kiss in season 5 !!!!!!!!!!

2. Chaste : Arthur and Gwen are always shown completely dressed even in the bedroom

whereas other couples are shown in a more sexually charged light than them.

Shirtless Gwaine and Eira who are not married

3. Lack Of Communication : Scene From Season 5:

Gwen: I know you sometimes desire time alone away from me… If you don’t wish me to accompany you I’d rather you told me yourself than have Merlin do it

4. Lack of Personal Touch :

It looks more like an intentional reference to the episode where Arthur and Gwen first kissed:

Arthur: I can kill a chicken from a thousand paces, just don’t ask me to cook it. That’s what servants are for.

Gwen: I’m not ashamed to be a servant. At least I’m not a liar.

Arthur: We had a nice meal together. What does it matter where it came from?

Gwen: Because I thought you’d shown some humility. You had done something kind for me even though I’m just a servant.

NOW THAT BEGS THE QUESTION, WHY WOULD THE CREATORS DO THIS ?

In cannon stories, Arthur and Gwen are married. Gwen has an affair with Lancelot. Their affair brings about the fall of Camelot.

In the TV series, Lancelot is dead, so the series creator try to highlight another love triangle

GWEN ------------------ARTHUR---------------- MERLIN

They could have Gwen out of this scene, but they didn’t. And if you know how these things are shot, then you also know it wasn’t a mistake on the filmmakers part, it was on purpose.

There are always 3 people in this marriage, and I don’t think that Gwen is very happy about that, even though she doesn’t always voice it out loud:

Gwen’s dissatisfaction of her marriage shows in the Dark Tower episode. Gwen: “Arthur doesn’t tell me anything”. And it wasn’t just a flippant statement.

It all plays into her greatest fears (as Morgana confirmed once again: “The mandrake root is cruel. It pierces the depths of your soul, twisting your unconscious into the very image of fear and dread.”)

So why would Gwen fear her husband lying and mocking her the most? As well as her brother and Arthur’s knight Elyan and Arthur’s best friend - Merlin?

It’s because she doesn’t fully believe Arthur on some subconscious level. This is what Morgana plays into. She knows that Gwen was feeling a little alone even before the Dark Tower (we see bits of it in the earlier episodes, when Gwen asks Arthur to stay with her and he politely refuses and goes with the knights to yet another mission.) “Gwen, you’re not alone now. You need never be alone again. I am the only one you can trust.”

Arthur acts as a knight should with his wife, he gives her beautiful compliments. You can’t really accuse him of abandoning his wife:

But what he does immediately after that? After all, it’s a Gwen/Arthur’s date, he pays attention to Merlin.

And if you ask me, Gwen doesn’t look happy about it:

The last Gwen/Arthur moment in the show ends with Arthur saying ‘Merlin’ and bolting out of bed because he dreamed his servant was talking to him.

LOL at Gwen’s face

And no goodbye :

More importantly, In the final episode of the series there is not a single scene between Arthur and Gwen. What happened there? They gave 'proper’ goodbyes to Perceival/Gwaine and Merlin/Gaius, even Arthur/Gaius. It was actually a stunningly disrespectful ending to the relationship they seemed to prioritize for so long.

It is because the show creators finally emphasized what the show was about in their finale episode:

Arthur does not mention Gwen once in his dying moments what so ever.

2. The Arwen romantic theme plays between Arthur and Merlin. The musical score is shot from Arthurs perspective showing Arthur falling in love with Merlin. LISTEN CAREFULLY

3. And the final clue to the puzzle, Julian called the final episode a love story between 2 men.

Mind you, I’m not saying Arthur didn’t love Gwen and vice versa. They did, but their marriage just wasn’t working as it should have. Give the show creators some credit for drastically reinterpreting the Gwen-Lancelot-Arthur triangle into a Merlin-Arthur-Gwen plot point.

Gwen certainly deserved better than this, so I’m glad sir Leon will be there for her. 

From Season 5 Episode 13 Commentary:

Katie: But she has Sir Leon, why would she need -

Julian Murphy: See, that’s another undercurrent in Merlin. Isn’t it? Sir Leon. Him and Gwen.

And some people like to say that Julian was joking and his words don’t count as a confirmation (And why is that, exactly?), but I disagree. Because Leon is heavily hinted to have feelings for Gwen in the show itself And there is this official promo photo. Mind you there is not a single photo of Gwen with any other knight for season 5 except Leon.

I think it totally counts as canon, because it would have been insensitive to show it explicitly in the show right after Arthur’s death. But still Leon was deliberately shown standing near Gwen and the throne in the last scene.

[au-wannabe-the-very-best]

Akari doesn’t get annoyed with him.

It’s something that hits Ash one day while traveling, suddenly and unexpectedly. They’re closing in on Nimbasa City, rushing slightly to make it to civilization at long last after trekking through nature, and Ash realizes for the first time that while all of his travel companions in the past have gotten annoyed with him at some point, Akari never does. Even when he’s pretty sure he deserves it.

He doesn’t always think before he does things. He sometimes can’t word things the way he wants to. He gets impatient and can be irrational at times. It takes a really long time for lessons to stick in his head, too.

Akari never seems to mind. 

It’s really strange, when he thinks about it. Because, well, he’s seen Akari get upset. She gets angry and impatient and frustrated just like anyone else. She gets downright mean when Trip is around. She very nearly loses her cool every time Bianca is within a 20 foot radius. Iris and Cilan had to hold her back from physically engaging Burgundy in an actual fistfight, once. 

He’s confused. And grateful, of course, but also confused. 

“Hey, Akari?” 

Akari, who’s been smiling strangely ever since they boarded the subway towards the Pokémon Center, turned away from Cilan, who was gushing and clearly embarrassing himself in public. Unlike Iris, she seemed to find his behavior amusing more than anything else.

“Yeah?”

Now or never, he supposed.

“So, like... You know how sometimes I can’t, uh, remember things? Like, type weaknesses and immunities and stuff. Or genders. That sort of thing? How come you don’t get like... mad at me?”

Akari frowns.

“You mean your ADHD? Ash, I’m not gonna blame you for something you can’t control. You just learn differently from others. You get things eventually, so what’s the problem in letting you go at your own pace?”

Ash blinks.

“My AD-what?”

Akari blinks back.

“... Your ADHD?”

They stare at each other for a few moments. Akari seems to come to a realization, eyes going wide in understanding, but before anything else is said between them, the train comes to an abrupt halt. 

––––

“Akari!”

Ash watches as the Subway Bosses immediately go to squeeze Akari like a grape between their arms. She’s smiling wide even as she gets lifted off the ground, wrapping her arms around each of their necks and giving them both a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, dads. I see you missed me.”

Cilan loses his cool, then. Unlike him, Ash is less surprised by who her dads are, and more surprised that her dads are brothers. She certainly never mentioned that. Then again, unless directly asked, she tends to just not say anything about herself in general, so they probably shouldn’t be too shocked. The most she ever says are vague references to things she’s done or stuff that’s happened to her, and no elaboration. 

The twins turn to look at the rest of them.

“Might these be the friends you spoke so highly of, Akari?”

“Just a moment, Emmet, I believe I recognize one of these passengers!”

“Hmmm? Oh, I believe you are right, Ingo! Cilan, it is good to see you again!”

In the end, Akari stays behind to hang out with her fathers, who apparently fought for parental rights over her and settled for dual-custody. (Ash can understand that. Who wouldn’t want to have Akari as their daughter? She’s awesome.) Ash, Iris, and Cilan were dragged to the Pokémon Center soon after. 

Ash promptly forgets about his previous conversation with Akari.

––––

It’s days later when Ash remembers what Akari said their first time on the subway. Lots of things have happened at that point. The ghost train, Bianca’s father trying to stop her journey, Ash winning his gym battle against Elesa. 

It was Akari’s turn to battle Elesa, this time. And, as always, Ash can’t help but admire her battle prowess. She only ever uses the Pokémon she befriended on her current journey, rather than the army of buddies she got from wherever she used to live. Still, the difference in strength between the two teams seems to close rapidly every time she battles. Her strategy looks simple from the outside, hit hard and fast and don’t let up. But every move she makes is calculated. The snap of her fingers or clap of her hands indicated how the moves are supposed to be used. She predicts the opponent’s thoughts and adjusts accordingly. She’s aware of everything on the field, of everyone’s position, the terrain, the obstacles. 

She looks like a Pokémon Master, in Ash’s eyes. At least, one in the making, that’s for sure. There’s something in her gaze when she battles, something that isn’t seen in her at any other time. Intense and vicious, studying and understanding. 

Ash learns more from watching Akari battle than possibly any other battles he’s seen. It’s so easy for him to focus on every decision she makes, and unlike others, he can actually follow the train of thought that led her to her decisions. There’s a similarity in their way of thinking that Ash doesn’t feel with a lot of his other friends. 

And it’s that thought, the similarities in their way of thinking, that gets Ash remembering. 

AD-something something? Learn differently from others? Whatever she was talking about then, it seemed kind of important in some way. And not just important, either. She talked as if she had experience with Ash’s specific brand of... absentmindedness. Which is strange, because, well...

She’s amazing. 

Akari naturally wins the battle and earns her badge. Nobody expected differently, honestly. Elesa least of all, considering she’s apparently known Akari since her adoption. Akari is amazing at what she does. Her battling is a perfected art. Her understanding of people and Pokémon is uncanny. And her intelligence is unparalleled. She just knows things. She knows when Team Rocket is around before anyone else. She knows instinctually when something is about to happen, whether that may be good or bad. She knows what moves her opponents are going to make, knows what to do in order to counter them.

Akari doesn’t have difficulty understanding or learning new things like Ash, as far as he could tell. She soaks up information like a sponge, seeks out knowledge and digs her claws into whatever she may find. She’s just smart like that. It’s natural.

So why was she so understanding over Ash’s... everything? Is she just kind like that? Patient? Patient isn’t a word anyone would typically use for her, but maybe she is when it concerns her friends. 

When they return to the Pokémon Center, Ash takes some time to himself to do some research.

He doesn’t fully remember the acronym, but typing ADD gives him a result.

It’s a disorder. An attention disorder. The research isn’t too vast, most people tend to look at other studies when getting into science. But there’s enough that Ash can read through a list of symptoms and realize that it fits. 

And Akari recognized it quickly enough that she thought it was obvious. That he would naturally know about it. 

He logs off the computer and goes to get changed. He’s quiet.

––––

It’s midnight and everyone is asleep except for Ash. The knowledge that there’s a label out there that explains... so much about him and his personality, he doesn’t know exactly how he should feel about it.

Pikachu is sound asleep on a pillow beside his head. He takes extra care when crawling out of the covers, doing his best not to disturb his buddy. Once free, he crouches on the ground and slowly waddles his way toward’s Akari’s bed.

There’s a frown in her expression while she’s sleeping. Her eyes are darting to and fro behind her eyelids. Ash is struck with the realization that she may have silent nightmares. From what little he’s gleaned about her past, that... yeah, that makes sense.

“Akari?”

His whisper is soft, but it’s enough to wake her up almost immediately. A light sleeper, as always. She seems so used to sleeping out in the wild, but any small noise that seems too close tends to jolt her awake. 

“Ash?” Akari squints at him, voice gravelly with sleep. “Why are you peeking over the side of my bed like a stalker?”

Ash splutters. Akari grins and he realizes that she was messing with him again.

“I’m not a stalker,” Ash grumbles. “I just... Remember when you said I had, uh. ADHD?”

Akari’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Oh. I can’t believe I forgot about that.” She stifles a yawn, slowly sitting up and scooting aside. She pats the empty space she left behind, and Ash scrambles to make himself comfortable beside her. “I’m guessing you didn’t know what that was, right?”

“I kind of do, now,” Ash admits. Akari pulls the covers over him, and it makes him feel small and vulnerable. Sometimes, she treats him a lot like a younger sibling, but not in the same way that Misty’s sisters treat her, or how May would treat Max. Sometimes it’s strange, but Ash can’t deny that he enjoys the feeling. “I checked it up before changing. There wasn’t a lot about it, but what I saw... I think it fit me?”

Akari hums, and lazily throws an arm out to wrap around Ash and pat his back. She’s very casual in showing physical affection, which is something Ash appreciates and seeks out with little to no shame. He shuffles closer and wraps his own arm around her.

“Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be well known when there’s other things to research like Pokémon and literal human psychics.” Akari huffs, tucking Ash’s head under her chin. “Feels weird, huh?”

Ash hums in agreement. He’s beginning to feel tired, now. Being held like this, safe and secure, tends to beat out the worst of insomnia no matter how anxious or agitated he gets. 

“Yeah. I never got officially diagnosed, but I think I have it too. Or something similar to it.” Akari sighs, rubbing circles along Ash’s back. “I can’t focus on things I don’t have interest in. I’m lucky in some aspects, because the things I do have interest in are things people think are important to know, right? Like. Pokémon. I love them. I want to know absolutely everything about them. I’ll focus so hard on learning about them that I’ll tune out everything.”

“I thought ADHD means you can’t focus, though?”

“Not quite,” Akari murmurs. “ADHD isn’t that you can’t focus on anything at all. It’s more like you can’t control your focus, I guess. Sometimes that means you can focus too hard on things. Like, remember when I was reading that book on historical legends while we were traveling? Cilan called my name like ten times and I still didn’t hear him because I was too focused. Ended up smacking into a tree. You get like that sometimes when it comes to Pokémon or battling, I think. It’s easy to forget about or not even listen to things we’re not interested in, right? But it’s different for things we’re passionate about.”

True. Very true. Battling and Pokémon were just so... fun. Interesting and amazing. It’s the only thing he wants to think about a lot of the time. Other stuff, though, feels more like a bunch of fuzzy stuff that he needs to shake out of his head, even though they should be considered important.

“So,” Ash whispers. “Is that why you don’t get annoyed with me when I can’t get things? Because you get like that too?”

“Huh? Oh,” Akari snorts. “Nah, people with ADHD can get annoyed with other people with ADHD, Ash. I just don’t get annoyed because I like you and consider you like a little brother.”

She leans back, giving him a full view of her mischievous grin.

“Even when you do stupid stuff, it’s very cute!”

Ash groans, face burning, and kicks her. She responds by tickling him in the sides, causing him to shriek, push back, and fall off the bed.

Iris and Cilan aren’t too happy about being woken up. Doesn’t stop Ash and Akari from laughing, anyways.

[whywhatswrongwithblue]

I said I’d elaborate on this later so here goes

WHY TENTOO X ROSE IS THE PERFECT ENDING

A lot of people think tentoo x rose is a happy ending only within the scope of the show—as in, it’s the best possible outcome considering that it’s a tv show and that David and Billie couldn’t have stayed on forever.

I fundamentally disagree.

(disclaimer that this is just my opinion and I think people can and should write whatever makes them happy!!)

Let’s imagine David and Billie were immortal and were willing to stay on the show forever—tentoo x rose is still the happiest ending they could’ve had.

Why? Here’s a few things we need to understand—

1) Doomsday would’ve happened even if Billie didn’t leave the show in s2

Doomsday, or a doomsday-equivalent, would’ve happened anyway. The Doctor and Rose would’ve been split up somehow simply because a relationship between an immortal and mortal is inherently doomed. Even if their separation wasn’t sudden and accidental, it would happen. The Doctor and Rose were doomed from the start, and this is a huge part of why the Doctor never actually acts on his feelings (he was only going to confess his feelings on BWB the first time because he genuinely thought he would never see Rose again.) I do believe that if Doomsday hadn’t happened, they would’ve eventually gotten into some sort of relationship, simply due to the intensity of their feelings, but it would never be carefree! The Doctor would be constantly burdened by the fact that he’s going to have to live for centuries after this human, and he’d never let himself be 100% open and vulnerable with the woman he loves. Because it’s going to really, really hurt soon enough.

2) Being immortal is NOT A GOOD THING

Now you might say, the earlier problem could be solved simply by making Rose immortal—she’d stay with the Doctor forever and she’d never have to leave him, but a constant theme throughout seasons 1-4 is that immortality is not desirable. There is a constant motif of “living too long”, whether it be from Jack, the Face of Boe (cough), or the Doctor himself. Things are only precious and meaningful because they end—the human way of doing things? Fast, and bright, and temporary? It’s the right way. One of the many reasons the Doctor loves Rose is because she’s human—it’s a big part of why he’s attracted to her in the first place. Besides, an immortal Rose would mean having to outlive her family, her friends, everyone she’s ever known—who else has experienced that? Oh, yeah. The Doctor. And I can’t imagine him wanting her to go through the same thing under any circumstances.

3) The Doctor wanted to be human.

The Doctor, and the Tenth Doctor in particular, wants to be human. It’s peppered here and there throughout the first four seasons, but there’s this underlying current of wistfulness in him (“I’ve never had a life like that”; “The one adventure I can never have”), not to mention the entirety of the Human Nature two parter, and I think to some extent Rose makes him feel human, and it’s his alienness that’s the big barrier in their relationship. She makes him want to be human, to be loved and to be free to love her as he wants to.

4) Rose constantly has to choose between her mum and the Doctor.

Now to be clear, there is no doubt in my mind that Rose would choose the Doctor over her mum. She has, several times, and I believe it’s totally in character.

But she shouldn’t have to! She shouldn’t have to choose between the Doctor and everything else that’s important to her, that makes her human. She shouldn’t have to be forced to never settle down because “the doctor never would” or to eventually become someone that isn’t Rose anymore, centuries and planets away from everything that made her her.

The Doctor doesn’t want this for her either.

Every time she has to make this particular choice, it breaks her heart, and it sure as hell doesn’t make the Doctor happy either. Tentoo gives her the chance to keep them both!❤️

5) The “happy” ending.

I know that ending up together and eventually having a kid is a very cliche happy ending, and I don’t think they’d be unhappy without a kid, but isn’t the sheer possibility a good thing?

It never would’ve been possible with the Time Lord Doctor, be it the differing physiology or the fact that he wouldn’t allow it to go so far. It would be something he could never give her, as his original self.

But tentoo could.

As has been pointed out in the discourse several times by @metacrisisdoctor (who you should totally follow btw!) so much of Ten and Rose’s season 2 arc is centred around domestics and settling down. They were always headed for this!

For a character as lonely as the Doctor to have someone to call his own, to not be the last of his species any more—that’s powerful stuff! He finally gets to have the full human experience, with all its ups and downs, and sure, it’s a very ordinary adventure but it is no less important 🥺

To conclude, Journey’s End is bittersweet, but it’s no roughshod, hastily put together ending because the cast wanted to leave. There was a LOT of thought put into it, and I will be forever grateful that a pairing as doomed as tenrose, somehow, MIRACULOUSLY, got a happy ending❤️

[granulesofsand]

Good gay/night/else, Dune! Never wrote you (probably, I don't remember) but now I have a question and wander if you guys can know answer. Do not answer if what is inside makes you feel uneasy or bad or smth else, take care of yourselves, you are one of my favourite blogs to follow

TW for programming, brief mention of torture, sex and missing limbs (nothing detailed, not real gore)

So.

1) our whole life (as we remember it) our legs sometimes just deactivate randomly during day. We always needed to spend some time to make them work again

2) as we understood more about being system, we noticed that "no-no legs" is actually switching to somebody

3) it's nonhuman alter that "smells" like somebody related to sex, thinking about itself as thing made for sex

4) we probably have programming and do wander if it's programmed alter or smth like this

We have bad feelings about it. It feels very wrong. We wonder if you have ever seen something like this or expiriensed it. We heared only about hc-did systems being tortured aka programmed to think that body misses limbs, but we don't remember anything like this and we never had even big bruises in childhood, our parents would notice

🗝️🏷️ programming/torture and deprogramming details, sex and sexuality, RAMCOA in general

We’ve heard of a few similar experiences, and I’m fairly certain all of the ones I’m thinking of were from RAMCOA systems. I’m going to respond to each of the numbers as best I can, and we’ll see how that goes.

1) That sounds like dissociative paralysis (assuming y’all don’t have a physical condition causing it), which I’ve seen in both system members who thought that body part was absent or who had to hold the body in a certain position.

The main thing is that whoever is paralyzed doesn’t know they can move the body part that isn’t working. I have read about system members coming to this conclusion on their own, but even then it was usually because they were conditioned into it while forming.

Programs that can have this effect on legs include: doll/puppet, animal (especially snakes or those whose limbs don’t work like humans’), statue, and any punishments that were targeting that body part.

2) It could be switching, passive influence (especially if the one doing it is less elaborated) or someone whose job it is to turn on that paralysis (it can look like a button, a switch, a lever, a book, anything). The best way to find out (if you can’t observe them do the thing) is by asking.

We’ve seen some of your posts about conflict between alters, and, from experience, people who don’t trust you don’t tend to answer. Building rapport has to come first, otherwise you risk punishment and retaliation.

Reassuring them that there won’t be consequences (only if it’s true) and writing it out somewhere the others won’t stumble upon it can help, because there’s less chance of someone hurting them and it might get around don’t-talk rhetoric if they’ve been taught it.

3) The non-humanness of the alter doesn’t necessarily imply they’re programmed, but smelling like a perp (or anyone, really) is something I’ve never heard for by-chance alters. The believing they’re made for sex can be tended to the same regardless of origin, and looking to programmed survivors might help kick-start the healing process purely because it’s a common belief for programmed alters.

We usually start the same for anyone who has strict self-concepts like this, which is by giving them choices wherever possible. Simple things, yes-no questions like if they want ketchup with fries (and giving them space to choose outside the yes-no as long as it isn’t causing harm), then open-ended questions like what their favorite fruit is, then slightly more abstract ones like what their favorite color is.

You& can skip the orange paragraph, it has to do with sex and sexuality.

If that doesn’t work, we move to treating it as a sexual problem. Sometimes we have to get their attention by putting on (ideally non-harmful, or fictional is the next step) porn or using the kind of touch they’re used to (but let them do it or keep it to your most trusted systemmates, then move to your& most trusted outside people) and then packing in as much information as they can hold while you’re around them.

A harm reduction approach helps to make progress without immediately demanding perfection. Decide what the end goal is for this person and set incremental targets. Celebrate every target met, even if it’s not how you envisioned it happening.

4) If it is programmed, there are a lot of ways for perps to get this reaction without causing marks. Holding the position, for example, or limiting the amount of space that person had to move around could have them maintaining that behavior when they no longer need to. Hiding their legs or a larger impact could have them believing their legs aren’t usable without damaging the skin.

Our system consensus is that programming is the intention and the effect, and if the conditioning had both, it counts. You& don’t have to agree with that, and labels are always optional. You& can address the symptoms without naming the cause, or you can give it another name if ‘programming’ isn’t helpful.

The discomfort (or other bad feeling, if that’s too mildly connotated for you&) could be leaking over from those who do remember, or it could be that you’re recognizing something is strange about the situation. Human brains are very good at picking up on subtle details, and trusting that something is up because of those alarms is generally healthy.

Still do try to treat everyone with dignity and respect, including if they feel wrong, but have plans for going forward in both cases, whether the feeling is correct or not. Especially with trauma, it’s easy to decide someone isn’t worth helping, and that’s not conducive to healing whatever wounds are present here.

I’m glad you’re& noticing members in pain, even if you& can’t or aren’t ready to help them yet. Creating bonds and strengthening them will keep your system on a different path from whatever your& perps intended, and spite is a hell of a motivator. I believe in your& ability to heal, pitfalls and lapses included.

[starseungs]

➳ words i want to say. hhj

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn!reader (ft. han jisung)

in which hyunjin decides to tell you the words he wants to say through voice messages. // wc: 2.1k

genre/s: angst, there's fluff in there if u squint (how the tables have turned), best friend / childhood friend hyunjin, unrequited love

warning/s: some swears but not excessive, hyunjin had a bad headspace for a while, fights (remembering), mentions of somewhat obsessive behavior

note: this is just something i've been wanting to write for a while! the vm concept was inspired by The Recovery Files Series by @thepixelelf, so go check out that one too^^

⌦ Voice 001

Hmm...

Should I just write it? Ah… what am I doing? This is so awkward— it’s okay! It's all good. I can do this!

Well… maybe not. But I have to anyway. Why did I decide to record it first again? Stupid. The assignment is written. 

…

Hyunjin— just record what you want to say so you can rewrite it easier later.

Test, test… God, I'm getting cold sweat from this. Why am I so nervous?

So… okay. Psychology 325, Project— what? Did I just blank out from that? Ah, whatever.

Let’s just start over.

...

⌦ Voice 002

Psychology 325, Project “Words I Want To Say”. Entry by Hwang Hyunjin.

… Okay that’s funny. I didn’t need to say that. I’m just gonna rewrite this on a document file anyways.

But words I want to say… to whom? Damn it— I forgot to pick one. Just use whatever comes to mind.

…

Should I talk about Y/N?

This— this won’t be sent out right? The worst that could actually happen is just Professor Lee reading about it.

Yeah, that’ll do. Let me start over—

⌦ Voice 003

Hi, Y/N. This is Hyunjin. I know I’m not actually talking to you right now, or will you ever read this— well, unless my psych professor betrays me and forwards the final paper to you. Hopefully not.

… Do I include that in the final version? Nevermind, leave that to future me.

As I was saying, what I’m doing right now is for a psych class assignment. Professor Lee said to write a letter full of words we want to say. He didn’t exactly elaborate about what or whom, but I think that’s the point. You were the first thing that I thought of, so here are the things I want to say to you.

…

And there’s a lot more than you think—

⌦ Voice 004

Sorry about that. I was holding my phone and I guess the nerves got to me. I know you know I dropped it. You always did say I dropped things often.

And you were right. The other guys never pointed it out though. Maybe they haven’t noticed like you do… I guess that’s what made us best friends.

…

Best friends, huh. 

Is— is that all in the past now? Cause I still can't believe it…

… It was only like yesterday that we were still heading out to get something to eat whenever all our classes ended for the day. How many years was that our routine? From what I remember, we started it in 4th grade. 

Wow… 4th grade. Time flies so fast, huh? We used to be so small— and now we’re in college. Do you remember back when we first entered high school? You cried right after we got home because you didn’t want to grow up yet. But look at you now…

I’m proud of you.

Did I tell you that? I don’t think I ever did. And I regret that so much. More than you will ever know— more than you'll never know.

…

Y/N, what happened to us?

...

⌦ Voice 005

Ah… I got too emotional. I think I get why we had to do this now or maybe it’s just me. How could I not feel anything?

… After all, it’s you.

You know, there was never a time in my life where I imagined myself to be without you. From the moment I was born, you were already right there beside me. I always used to think that just like our moms, we’d be by each other's sides until we grew old.

And, well, looking at our current situation, it didn’t quite work out like I wanted after all.

…

I hate it. So much. How I’m even getting through the days— I don’t know myself.

It’s torture for me, Y/N. I miss you so much, and I can’t believe it’s my fault.

… Are you feeling the same way?

Tch. Probably not. You have that stupid boyfriend of yours. What? I know I’m right. You’re probably out there having a cute little date with— what’s his name? Han Ji whatever. 

That’s what I always heard from you anyways. Ji this, Ji that. He’s not even my friend, and yet I hear his nickname more than I hear mine. Do you even remember it? You used to call me Hyune by the way. Just reminding you. 

Now it’s just Hyunjin.

…

I’m sorry. I know this is so unfair to Ji whatever. He never did anything to me, and yet all I do is blame him for everything.

I don’t even know why—

⌦ Voice 006

For fucks sake, why do I keep getting cut off? My phone battery died. I didn’t even notice because I was so focused on this recording thing. 

…

But, I guess it was a good thing for it to die on me at that moment. I was starting to not think straight again. The last time that happened, we— yeah. This short break gave me some time to think about what I really wanted to say while waiting for my phone to have enough battery.

In the last message, I was going to say that I didn’t know why I was blaming Jisung so much— right, I remembered his name now. Could you at least be proud of me for this?

… Thank you. I can’t hear you right now, but I know you’d acknowledge my efforts. Those years of us being friends aren’t for nothing to me, you know? I think I can say that I know you well enough. You’re the same for me.

Actually— I think you might know me better than I do myself. And while I know other people would find that annoying, the thought was quite comforting to me. That someone cared enough for me to know me more than I did. 

Yeah. That.

You were my comfort, Y/N. 

Always there for me, even in times where you really didn’t need to. Of course— I did that for you as well. Anything and anytime you want me to. I’d do it if it was for you. To me, you were my other half. And I loved it.

I loved you.

…

That was why I blamed Jisung for breaking us apart. 

He— he was never in the future I created for ourselves. And I know that’s where it went all wrong. I really should’ve…considered chances of us having significant others. But I didn’t— no.

I refused to.

Just the mere thought horrified me beyond belief. I wanted us to be… well, only us. I was selfish. An absolute fool. A madman in love.

I had my own wonderland inside of my head. And I kept the thought of you as a prisoner.

It was ridiculous Y/N. I can’t even believe I did that.

…

But I’ve changed. And still changing. Truthfully, I’m not saying that for you to come back to me. I’m saying this for myself. Hwang Hyunjin has thought of his actions and its consequences, and is now working on changing himself for the better. 

I— I don’t care if you don’t believe me because I’m not pleading with you to. I’m not even gonna ask for your forgiveness, because I know it’s not my right to tell you how to feel.

But I want to at least explain. For me, and for your peace of mind.

...

⌦ Voice 007

Should I start from when I realized I liked you? Yeah, then I’ll just progress from there.

Hmm…I think it was middle school. 2nd Year. It was that day when you were rejected by the first crush you ever confessed to. I remember how sad you were and had the instant thought to beat up that person. I never did it by the way, in case you’re worried. I may have jammed his locker a bit, but that’s about it. You wouldn’t want me in trouble. 

Going back to that event, I honestly thought I was thinking about it from a brotherly light. It didn’t last long though— cause I also told myself that I could be a much better boyfriend to you. Brotherly light my ass, what kind of brother wants to date their sibling?

… You know what, don’t answer that. At all.

Anyways— that was when I realized I did like you in that way. As to when I exactly started liking you…I don’t know. Maybe it was just something that developed over the years. 

By now I think you’re wondering why I never confessed to you, am I right?

Uh… It’s quite an underwhelming answer actually. As cliche as it is, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I did want to try, but it was so obvious you didn’t see me in that light—

Oh God, now my previous actions just sound silly now. How did that not stop me from making some kind of imaginary world? Maybe I do need help. Changbin’s good at giving advice, maybe I can talk to him.

You do know Changbin right? He’s friends with Jisung as well. It’s funny how we have multiple mutual friends but we’ve barely interacted. I guess that’s just how the world works sometimes.

…

Speaking of Jisung— it’s time to talk about that isn’t it?

That night.

… I’ll tell you my point of view. And— I hope it can give you clarity.

I remember you coming over to my apartment after your last class. Normally, we would be getting food by then, but I had a massive headache that morning and decided to skip everything I had that day. Granted, my headache was already long gone by the time you arrived… So that really doesn’t excuse what I did next.

I was so glad to see you. After being sick, all I wanted was to be with you. To talk to you about your day…

Yet, all I heard was about Jisung.

And maybe it was valid. He was your day, the current sun in your life. If I could love you, why couldn’t you be in love with him too?

That’s what I think of now. Back then— not so much.

Jisung was definitely a sun. For you, it was positive. He lit up your days, and became the light you had in dark times. But for me… it was nothing short of negative. 

He was a source of light I had to constantly fight over. A burning sensation that left me to suffer with the pain.

If he was the sun, I was the moon.

So close, yet still the one being pushed aside.

Hearing about him made me so mad. Each mention of him clawed at my heart and released my deepest insecurities. And that’s why I ended up yelling at you that night.

…

I just wanted it to stop hurting.

That, maybe if I did that, you’d finally see me too. Maybe you’d see how much pain I was in before I realized it myself, just like before.

But instead— I ended up hurting you.

I said too many unnecessary things. Words that were formed from my hatred and boiled from the heat of the moment. And at some point, I ended up hating you too.

Hating you was never an option I considered. You were an angel to me. And I was that human you liked enough to be blessed by your presence.

Now, I’ve come to the realization that you were human too. Just like me. That I was once again putting you on a pedestal for myself.

Who knows, maybe my love for you isn’t even love— though that might just completely break me for good.

…

I don’t hate you. I know that’s the last thing I told you before we stopped all contact, but I don’t.

At that moment, I guess part of me did resent you for hurting me. But it wasn’t just your fault. I also fanned the flame that would roast me alive on my own accord.

That’s why I’m so sorry for putting all the blame on you. I now understand the barrier you put between us. I'm the best friend, but he's your significant other. That being said, I'm sorry for all I’ve said about Jisung too. 

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s a great guy from what I’ve heard.

…

That’s all I have to say, really. I do feel a lot lighter now having done this. I know— hmm. I was planning to not send this to you at all, but maybe I will now.

You deserve closure as well.

…

I hope you live your life to the fullest. I’ll try to do that now too. Maybe one day our paths will cross again. By then, let’s be better versions of ourselves, yeah?

Thank you, Y/N.

For everything.

These are the words I want to say to you.

...

This voice message has ended.

[fated-normal-767]

Could I know his skill or about the horrors which befall him?

Or if not, might I hear more about his relations with the utsotsuki bloodline? (And how he came to carry their name?)

CHEERING SHOUTING YIPPEE ETC. Yeah! (I finally get to explain something that starts at, well, the start.)

Tenebris’ skill is that he can bring dead people back to life as long as he edits one genetic feature, slightly changing skills or appearance or health. Oh, and one more catch? It only works if he was the one that killed them. This also works on himself, and he deteriorates into looking less human over the game.

At the start of the storyline, he is 12.

Context: Ares Usotsuki runs the governmental branch that deals with these skills, especially misuse or locating and tracking of people who are actively dangerous. Very morally questionable stuff, but Ares specifically works in the legal area of making sure anyone rich enough can do whatever they want, as well as organisation of the whole thing. (technically he started running it at 15 but they had Kronos pretend he was running it as a 15 year old smart enough to get through law school would have raised too many questions)

Tenebris is found in a street surrounded by several dead bodies. This is never shown in game but is explained by Ares. This is a young child who logically would not do this on purpose. It’s never elaborated on if the dead people are brought back, as all files suggest this never happened at all. Tenebris is taken to this government building, where Ares decides to protect him from any legal problems, for some reason no one understands at all. In order to do this, Ares changes the legal files to show Tenebris as a younger sibling, and hides evidence that he was dangerous.

Tenebris is never encouraged to kill people. No one ever asks him to. That’s important. However, Ares gives him lists of people he cannot hurt, and will casually mention people who have been causing problems, who will then disappear not to be seen again, or reappear with changed memories. Changing memories would not just take one death though: to change anything big it would take being killed multiple times. Ares.. overlooks this as much as someone can.

Then, Tenebris gets the understanding of the systems. I wouldn’t call him fundamentally evil, but he has a strange perception of the world. He hears people say things about issues or ideas or people who are looking at things they shouldn’t. And he invents his own system, where he uses his appearance as mainly friendly to get people to like him, then influences choices. The main turning point is the first player-controllable character death, a man named Nysia who runs a hotel type business which protects people running from the government and happens to be where shimmer is staying for the start of the story.

Tenebris sees themself as Ares’ brother. Ares sees them as someone he is protecting, maybe a friend, but not actual family. Not that he gets along hugely well with his family. I’ll simplify this into a small list as it’s very complex.

Tenebris wants shimmer to get hurt. They are Ares’ sibling, and they take it for granted, they don’t care. It’s unfair. -> Tenebris tell Nysia that as shimmer is linked to the government through their family, shimmer will probably betray him, try to ruin the business, and try to get vulnerable and innocent people hurt. -> Nysia tears out shimmer’s eye, the very visible scar in all my drawings of them. He then convinces everyone shimmer did it to themself. Now shimmer can’t be trusted alone, isn’t allowed to make decisions, and has to go to someone for help. They go to Lyssa, who originally does not believe them. -> When Lyssa DOES realise it was Nysia, they kill him. Quite brutally, using their skill. -> Tenebris realises the use of the butterfly effect.

From there on, he keeps getting more dangerous and causing more things to happen. It’s suggested that he thinks he is acting like Ares. It’s never suggested he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

Eventually, Ares realises this. He realises it in the middle of the first fire, which he has no intention of leaving till he collapses from smoke inhalation and shimmer drags him out of the building. He has extremely blurred memory when regains consciousness, but tells shimmer he knows who was causing all the horrible events. When he remembers and tries to tell shimmer, who already barely trusts him at all, they don’t believe him. They think it’s a trick and that he really Hasn’t improved as a person, that he never cared about anything, and that he’s basically a lying bastard. Now, in this, it could’ve been possible that they shot ares and he died. Meaning ares could make an illusion in which that happened, by having to live through it on loop till the illusion stopped. Ares Usotsuki felt himself bleed to death on the ground about 120 times before he left. And everyone thinks he is dead. Shimmer is guilty but thinks they probably did the right thing (they don’t, they’re lying to themself).

And no one believes Tenebris did anything wrong. But Tenebris didn’t want ares to die. So, Tenebris believes he did something wrong, just a little bit. From there, he continues to do very morally questionable things, though he protects some people in the process, pretending he doesn’t do it on purpose. Then one day he disappears, and ‘Tenebris’ is never seen again.

Pluto is though. He looks very different, and is, for a good period of time, the kindest person in the game. Despite looking quite threatening in an ominous cloak and sleeping in a graveyard, he puts his life on the line to save people. He has a different skill. Pluto can control corpses, basically puppeting them into moving and acting for him.

[camaro-hargrove]

first drabble, I don’t know how school counselors work but this is fiction so it’s okay. 

-

Max goes to see the school counselor every Thursday at 2pm. 

Scratch that.

She’s forced to go to these mandated counseling sessions every Thursday at 2pm. 

Ever since Billy died and Neil left them. The fire at the mall. Yeah, some fire. 

She doesn’t talk a lot during the sessions or elaborate on anything when it’s clear Miss Kelly wants her to. It makes her feel good, she wants Miss Kelly to feel as frustrated and angry as she does. 

She doesn’t until the week of Billy’s birthday. She forgot Billy even had one in the past, they never celebrated and he’d never say anything. She’s memorised the date now though, it’s right there for everyone to see in Hawkins Cemetery above the bullshit quote.

Gone but not forgotten.

She could laugh at that, everyone has forgotten him. 

Miss Kelly is talking like she always does, asking her questions in hopes that it would start a conversation and she can write some juicy notes in her book. 

“Billy’s birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” she asks and Max looks at her in the eyes for the first time. 

“Yeah,” she says cautiously “How did you know?”

Now it’s Miss Kelly’s turn to pause. She looks down at her notes, rolls one of her shoulders, and looks away, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek as she thinks something over. 

“Billy would come and see me once a week” she finally admits. “Thursdays at 2pm”

Max feels like she can’t breathe, not in a panicky way that has become familiar to her but in a shocked way. The same sort of shocked when she found out her mother has always been a heavy smoker and drinker but just kept it hidden. 

“Why?” Max asks, her voice croaky 

“I’m not supposed to share information on students and I’m not going to discuss everything Billy and I talked about” she turns a page in her notebook, pen tapping against the lined pages “But I will share necessary information because I do believe it will help you”

“He talked about me, didn’t he?” 

“He did, yes”

“About how much he hated me, probably” she scoffs. She wants to be mad even when she’s not. 

Miss Kelly looks confused. 

“Max,” she says softly “Billy never hated you, he loved you”

“Sure he did” She actually manages a laugh this time. “What will you tell me if the tooth fairy is real next?”

“It’s funny that you both mentioned the tooth fairy” she smiles “Max, Billy thought you were amazing”

“It’s not funny” she looks away “I could get you fired, isn’t this illegal or some shit? Lying to patients?”

“It is, yes” Miss Kelly stands up and walks over to her filing cabinet, pulling out a file “I can show you some small parts of his file”

She pulls out a piece of paper after a while of shuffling folds it over to hide some other notes, and hands it over. 

It’s a section about siblings. 

Siblings: 

Step Sister - Maxine Mayfield, age 14.  Have been living together for 6 years as of 1986.  Is tasked with driving her to school and other activities, taking care of her most days including cooking meals.  Enjoys skateboarding and playing video games at the arcade. Funny and has a good taste in music.

“She’s really cool” 

“I like that she doesn’t listen to her Mom about being girly”

There are more quotes that Billy has said about her but she’s finding it hard to read so she puts the paper down on the small table in front of her and wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. 

“Billy seemed to take care of you a lot, didn’t he?” Miss Kelly asks. She’s got her notebook out again. “Did your mother and stepfather drive you places?”

“Never” 

“They often left Billy in charge when they were out?” Miss Kelly knows the answers to these questions. She has to. 

“Yeah” Max pauses “They started going out a lot more when Billy got his own car”

“Max” Miss Kelly takes a deep breath before continuing. “The biggest reason Billy was seeing me every week was because he was trying to gain custody of you when he turned 18”

Custody. Of her. 

Now she really can’t breathe, feels like she’s kind of choking on her own saliva, and has to take a drink from the glass of water she never drinks from but Miss Kelly gives her anyway. 

“Why would he do that?” 

“Because he cared so much about you”

Billy does care for her, did care for her. When they drove to Hawkins from California, he let Max put her tapes on for a little bit. He was teaching her how to drive in abandoned parking lots in California and was planning to teach her to surf just like he taught her to skateboard. He didn’t care what Max did as long as she wasn’t late and told him what she was doing. She doesn’t think Billy ever really forgave her for sneaking out and what happened at the Byers. He never brought it up but their relationship had definitely become strained for a while after. Betrayed, walking around with a black eye that appeared overnight. 

Yet he still wanted custody of her. 

“He wanted to know what to do” she continues, shuffling through the file again “Said he needed to work on himself before he could properly take care of you” 

Miss Kelly keeps talking while Max stares. She’s not really sure what to do, or how to react. Apparently, Billy had been working more shifts and odd jobs to save for a small place, Neil used to take his money for rent and utilities. He made sure to get good grades so he could go to college in the future.

She hates that it took Billy dying for her to find out how much he loved her and how much she loved him.  

[oncedied]

Can’t sleep so I’m thinking abt Felvan and Felvos again. They’re a pair of twins who end up falling in with the thieves guild much to the chagrin of Revyn.

Felvan is strange in the regard that he was born with abnormally bright golden eyes that shone iridescent blue. His grandfather, the Nerevarine Llethri Releth, panicked upon first seeing his eyes and their unnatural colors for reasons he refuses to specify. He told the boy’s parents to ensure that his eyes are never visible by anyone under any circumstance, especially by other Dunmer. When pressed he refused to elaborate. It’s believed that he communed with Azura directly and in person for guidance on what to do with the boy’s eyes.

Felvan would often conceal his face under a broad brimmed hat and would wrap his eyes in thin linen — enough for him to see through while still concealing them. This has led to Felvan pretending that he is blind, an act helped by his twin, because that would be easier to explain than mentioning that their grandfather did not want anyone seeing his eyes for some unknown mysterious reason. They’ve also used this to trick people, alongside their general Voros Twins-style stupidity act. How could a blind boy that is also dumb as bricks and his equally as dim counterpart be capable of these genius acts and ploys? Was it sheer chance, coincidence or where these boys smarter than they let on?

They fell into the Thieves’ Guild entirely by accident— they were left unattended in Riften and opted to cause some trouble, which ended in them being offered by Brynjolf to carry out a task for him, promising shiny coin on top of causing some good ol’ unrest, whatever seemed to entice the two more. Whatever happened ended in them thundering through the ratway towards the Flagon laughing and tussling and in general causing a massive ruckus — almost knocking the door off its hinges, startling just about every patron inside. Their chaos was only stopped by Maul booming at them viciously, complete with drawing his weapon — clearly having no qualms with teaching these two young teenagers a lesson or two.

This was only stopped with Samael and Revyn (tailed closely by Teldryn) making their entrance, Revyn visibly tense and trying to conceal his face as much as he could. He had a history with some of these people, after all, and the last time he was ever there alone was the day he left with a promise that if he ever showed his face there again it would be on sight and he would not make it out alive. Teldryn was the one who got Maul to back off only because he got himself between the twins and the mercenary, and used the fact he had a few inches of height on him to his advantage that he basically sized him up in a way that sent a clear message. He wouldn’t win, and teldryn felt that maul was more bark than he was bite.

Samael would round up the now silent and visibly ashamed twins telling them that they have to be more careful with these things, these people. That he’s at least happy they were paid clearly. That Revyn almost had a heart attack over them, knowing where they were and what they were doing. Revyn for one was skulking by the door of the Flagon and tried to make sure he was unnoticed.

Revyn for one was a bit less gentle with the boys, feverishly warning them about just what the Guild is and if they ask him they’re much safer with the Brotherhood than they are here. They’d be eaten alive here. And he did not hesitate to remind them that he was speaking from experience and it’s precisely why he hates riften so much.

I need to develop the twins more but the gist of it is they’re big dumbasses who are also my thieves guild guys and are inseparable to the point where they might as well be attached at the hip. They’re also heteropaternal twins, so they have two different biological fathers (aside from Revyn).