#SHOCKING NO ONE THIS GOT LONGER THAN INTENDED SO IT'S BEHIND A READ MORE LMAO

[tathrin]

Kiss #17, please (to distract)? Thank you!

Absolutely, and what an appropriate choice to send when I'm trying to distract myself from what I'm supposed to be doing lol (thank you). Anyway, prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time.

Legolas was fidgeting. Gimli glanced over sideways, a concerned frown furrowing underneath his beard. It was not the motion itself that had caught his attention: Legolas was by nature a creature of near-constant motion, a trait that seemed to be shared by all Wood-elves. They were like the trees they loved so much, ever swaying in some breeze that only they could feel; ever rustling like the whisper of thin green leaves overhead.

This was not that sort of motion; this was fidgeting. This was nerves.

Gimli could tell the difference at a glance, after so many years (he was not actually sure how many years anymore; time was a strange thing in the Undying Lands) of their companionship. Legolas's usual motion was soft and winding, like a gentle summer breeze. These fidgets, as he twisted his long bark-brown fingers together, were short and sharp and miserable.

He was nervous. It showed in the tension of his smooth and beardless face, in the darting glances of his bright grey eyes, and most of all in the twiddling of those spindly fingers.

Gimli reached over and covered Legolas's hands with one of his own, broad palm stilling the much longer, thinner digits with ease. Legolas looked over and gave him a grateful smile, but the skittering tension did not leave his eyes.

"You are distressed," Gimli said. He kept his voice low, although he knew that the other elves near them would hear well enough; elvish senses were too keen to be so easily avoided. But Gimli knew too that the others were all preoccupied with their own thoughts, and would not pry without cause. "Why?"

"I have never met him before," Legolas replied in a murmur. He curled one of his hands up around Gimli's, lacing their fingers together. "What if he...what if he is disappointed by me?"

"How could anyone be disappointed in you?"

That instinctive response merited Gimli another brief flash of a grateful smile, but this one was gone even faster than the first. "Oropher was a great Elf Lord," Legolas replied softly. "A leader even before he was crowned a king. He is spoken of with respect even by the Noldor—or some of them, at least; and that is no small thing, for us of the Woodland Realm."

"True enough," said Gimli, his words slow as grinding stone, "but I do not see why any of that should give you cause to fret, my dear."

Legolas swallowed. "I am so small, Gimli, compared to that. What if he is disappointed to meet a grandson who is so much less?"

"Ridiculous," Gimli snapped. "Legolas, you are being as foolish as a Took—no, moreso; for Tooks at least can recognize their own worth. You are a treasure among elves, my dear, and I do not say that only because you are my treasure."

Legolas could not restrain a watery laugh at that, and Gimli smiled to see it.

The smile passed quickly, though, and the frown returned, deeper now than before. "Do you fear that he will be disappointed to find that you have chosen a dwarf?"

"What?" Legolas gaped at him. "Of course not!"

"No?" Gimli raised an eyebrow. "He was an elf of Doriath, was he not?"

The tips of Legolas's ears colored. "That—yes," he admitted. "But what of it? Doriath was a long time ago, and the dwarves that fought there were not your kin. And they certainly were not you." He shook his head, his golden braids bouncing in irritation. "Besides, name an elf in all of Aman who has not fallen in love with you."

Gimli bit his lip to restrain his smirk. "I can name several," he said.

"That you have met?" Legolas retorted, and Gimli could not stop the short bark of a guffaw that slipped past his beard.

"Indeed, yes!" he chuckled. "Many look upon me with grudging tolerance at best, and you know it."

"None whose opinions are worth counting," Legolas said loftily.

Gimli smiled at him. "Fair enough," he allowed. "Your grandfather's opinion, however, is one that we would both value, I think."

"Nellglind adores you. And he died much closer to the events of which you allude than Oropher."

Gimli granted the truth of that statement with a nod, and decided that now was not the time to point out that Oropher's husband had not exactly been enamored of Gimli immediately upon meeting him. Instead he said, "Well, if you are not concerned that he will be displeased to see me by your side, then I cannot imagine what could possibly be the source of this fretting."

"I am not sure that it has a source," Legolas muttered. He drew his knees up before him where he sat on the slope of the low, grassy hill outside the Halls of Mandos where the elves of Greenwood had gathered to wait for the return of their first king. "Only that this is the first time that I will have been here to see one of my family Return from Death, and I find myself plagued by an anxiety over it that I cannot name."

Gimli nodded his understanding of that, too. "Well," he said, "as I understand it, you will not have long to wait, my love. Soon he will be back among the living, and you will meet, and he will adore you I am sure—even as I do."

He silently considered the merits of making himself scare for Oropher's actual arrival, however; of giving the legendary Elvenking a few minutes to meet his grandson on Legolas's own merits before confronting him with the reality of Legolas's dwarven husband. It seemed not just the prudent course of action, but the polite one, too. After all, while Gimli was indeed part of Oropher's family now, Oropher did not know that yet. Let him meet the grandson he did not yet know he had first, and then his dwarven grandson-in-law.

Things would no doubt go much smoother for all of them, then.

But they had a few minutes yet before the Doors of the Halls of Mandos opened, and his elf was still nervous.

So Gimli raised his other hand and caught Legolas's narrow chin and drew his beardless face down to him for a long, slow kiss. Legolas fairly melted into Gimli's arms, all the tension of his long limbs running out of him like iron set too long over a hot forge.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Anytime, my love," Gimli replied, and pressed a second, softer kiss against Legolas's now smiling lips.

Of course, that was the moment that Oropher took to actually walk out of the Halls.

[bestworstcase]

To be honest tts had many characters who had their emotional and mental trauma handled horribly, they deserve better exploration on how they healed and what they went through. Tangled The Movie did a better job of handling these mature themes but why couldn’t tts?

ok so tbh i don’t agree ajklsdlkjf

like! ok to start with. tangled (2010) is kind of interesting to me in this regard because it does such a good job illustrating gothel’s emotional abuse and the harm it does to rapunzel but it - like, at the end of the day It Is A Disney Film. it spends almost all of its running time meticulously building up this very complicated emotional trauma for rapunzel, and then the resolution is like—BOOM!—she has a tearful reunion with her parents and they pull her boyfriend into a group hug, cue ending narration about how they got married and ruled corona and lived happily ever after. to me tangled (2010) feels like it runs off a cliff at the last minute because. lmao. 

leaving an abusive parent is the easy part.

which is not to say that it’s easy! but once you hit that emotional point of “i cannot have you in my life anymore” and cut them out... now you have a heap of maladaptive coping mechanisms and psychological scars and inherited behaviors that you have to deal with. you can’t just *flaps hands* cut off your abusive mother and skip off into the sunset with your long lost real family and new boyfriend whom you met three days ago and everything’s gravy. kskjdfjk it doesn’t work like that!

tts on the other hand - absolutely, there were clear limitations on how far they were able to go, and absolutely the plot-driven writing was a less than ideal vehicle for telling a story about recovery-from-trauma. but also like fundamentally tts is a story that is interested in recovery from trauma in a way that i don’t think tangled (2010) was. rapunzel has nightmarish flashbacks to gothel in s1, struggles because of her sheltered upbringing, expresses behaviors that she clearly learned from gothel and internalized as normal, flounders when she is handed responsibility because she is not used to making her own choices, and has complicated, messy feelings about her tower and gothel herself! there is a whole episode dedicated to exploring rapunzel’s ambivalent feelings about her new life in corona through the lens of her suddenly-fraught relationship with pascal. one of the emotional linchpins of the entire show is the moment in RATGT where rapunzel screams “enough, cassandra!” in a direct parallel to the way gothel yelled at her in the film, and while tts ultimately shied away from exploring that on rapunzel’s end, we got multiple episodes following up on how badly this damaged cassandra, eventually culminating in her villain arc in s3. 

likewise with cassandra - tts devotes two whole seasons to meticulously building up cassandra’s very complicated trauma, then allows her a whole season in which to have a messy, anguished, enraged breakdown because of it—and then her happy ending is *leaving behind* the toxic situation she was trapped in in corona to venture into the unknown and figure herself out, which is imo a lot more in scale and realistic than rapunzel’s happy ending in tangled (2010). 

likewise with varian - in QFaD he is badly traumatized, and the remainder of s1 examines how the failure of his would-be support network to actually support him leads to his continued downward spiral and eventual violent breakdown; when he is punished for this that explicitly makes everything worse both for him and for everyone else, and after his redemption he features as a deuteragonist in what is essentially ptsd flashbacks: the episode. etc. 

so my overall impression of the many places where tts *failed* to adequately examine characters’ trauma is very strongly that - they wanted to and they were capable of doing so, but there were disney executives going no, that’s too heavy, that’s too dark, you can’t portray the disney princess with serious deeply-entrenched flaws, you can’t have the disney princess be the one who’s in the wrong in her interpersonal conflicts, blah blah blah. s3 in particular just reeks to me of executive meddling and executive sanitizing of the intended plot. i’m honestly shocked that tts got away with going as far as they did, especially with rapunzel’s and cassandra’s childhood traumas, because frankly it spits in the face of the squeaky clean happily ever after Disney Princess Brand aljsdjfk. 

(also as an aside - one’s personal reading of the text is imo a big deciding factor in how unsatisfying the handling of trauma is, bc - i think there is a tendency in some areas of the fandom that are centered around varian and/or eugene for fans to go “they should be more traumatized than they are and it’s bad writing that they’re not broody and angsty about xyz” and like - 

the impression i have from being on the sidelines of this discourse is a lot of people have one specific model in their heads of what “trauma” looks like and that model is essentially “miserable and brooding and needing to be comforted” so when we get things like eugene coping with awful shit by cracking jokes about it or not having ptsd flashbacks to gothel stabbing him that gets interpreted as the narrative not taking him seriously as a character, whereas to me it reads as “eugene is a psychologically stable person who has the emotional resilience to cope with horrible events relatively unscathed”—

or this vibe of varian isn’t brooding and angsting all the time so obviously tts is ignoring his trauma, when my reading of him overall is that he’s the kind of person who deals with trauma by throwing himself into work that makes him feel better - like in CR he’s working in the demanitus chamber, surrounded by amber, but he’s doing dumb chemistry experiments he enjoys and over time that’s gotten him to a place where being around the amber is no longer triggering for him, he’s healed enough to have conquered most of that fear.

and obviously all of this is a matter of interpretation and this is not to say that, like, fans who wanted more of a raw exploration of these characters’ fear and sadness and struggle with trauma are wrong or like invalid for wanting that, it’s more - like, i personally choose to take the text more at face value and interpret the behaviors i see on screen as telling me something about how the character responds to trauma instead of as the narrative ignoring that they have trauma altogether. which leads me to “eugene is emotionally resilient and humor is a key feature of his resilience” and “varian copes by working on stuff that is intellectually engaging or just makes him happy in order to tackle his fears head-on” and so forth. and one consequence of that is i don’t really walk away from the text feeling unsatisfied with the way tts handled its character traumas, except insofar as i’m like “wow i wish disney had let them go even farther!”)

[preciouspeterbparker]

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished! 

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves 

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending! 

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season. 

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay. 

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony. 

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside. 

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.”  Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of-  Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well. 

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?” 

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted. 

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?” 

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio. 

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.  

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was. 

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now. 

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been. 

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag. 

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect. 

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb. 

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine. 

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.” 

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car. 

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer. 

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously. 

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me. 

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it? 

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself. 

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy. 

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time. 

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force.  She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”) 

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs. 

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips. 

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone. 

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.” 

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part. 

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could.  “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim. 

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered. 

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs. 

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there. 

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.) 

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.”  He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises. 

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!” 

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven? 

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man. 

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.” 

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”  

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member.  “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.” 

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan. 

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again. 

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole. 

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head. 

*** 

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much. 

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that. 

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together. 

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together. 

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get. 

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow. 

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms. 

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years. 

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

genre: vampire!au, angst, humour, slight fluff

warnings: human trashnaming lmao, blood, fangs, sensual (?) biting

word count: 2.6k

author’s note: magician!seoho cameo especially for @wandu *mwah*

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six 🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten🌙 part eleven 🌙 part twelve 🌙epilogue

Two weeks later, you awoke in the middle of the night, because you were feeling peckish. You had already gotten used to the expensive red velvet sheets that surrounded you every night. It wasn’t their softness or the riches in Ravn’s castle that gave you comfort. It was the realization that your family could no longer bully you for not being married well-off or judge you for reading too much or anything they chose to hold against you.

You could finally be yourself. And not in the way you had been in the forest - lonesome. You finally had company that accepted you for who you were. There was one tiny downside, that company consisted a vampire that required your blood. But you reminded yourself this was your idea in the first place. And though sometimes uncomfortable, it was still way better than your previous life.

You got up from the bed to search for said vampire. He didn’t really need sleep so the bed was just there as an accessory of some sorts. You were glad for it, because you were planning to stick around. You couldn’t find him anywhere so you made yourself at home and went to prepare some food. Ever since you’d “moved in”, Ravn had made sure you’d have all the commodities a human could possibly require, including a previously empty room that could now be perfectly classified as a kitchen. 

You were very grateful for his kindness but there was a part of you that kept saying this was too good to be true. Sure, you were giving something in return, but was it enough? What if his intentions towards you changed at one point? What if one day he decided he no longer liked your blood and tossed you away? What would you do, then? Or what if…he just killed you once he grew bored with you? Admittedly, you weren’t really scared of death. But you still liked living. After having endured so much torment, you were now enjoying life and you didn’t want that newfound happiness, that freedom to end.

As you were making yourself a sandwich, you suddenly heard a noise coming from somewhere nearby. You looked around but could see nothing and nobody.

“Ravn, is this you?” you asked fearfully.

However, you were shocked when you were met with a complete stranger lurking in the shadows!

“Who the hell are you?” the suspicious man inquired.

“I could ask you the same!” you shot back.

“I asked you first!” he continued.

You groaned in frustration.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?”

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he mimicked your voice.

You rolled your eyes, completely done with this stranger.

“RAAAAAAVN,” you yelled for dear life, hoping that your vampire host would kick the intruder out as soon as possible.

“Wait, you know Ravn?” the man asked.

“Uh, yeah. Do you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m his best friend, Seoho!” 

“Oh. I’m…” How were you supposed to introduce yourself? Ravn’s blood bank? His human roommate? What were you to him?

Luckily, you were saved by further questioning things, because Ravn walked into the kitchen in that very moment.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, visibly concerned about your well-being, which made your heart flutter despite your better judgement. “Ah, Seoho, hi!” Ravn’s tense posture immediately relaxed. “Did you scare my human?”

He’d called you his human…Never before had you imagined that being a vampire’s human would excite you in such a way. You had previously thought that being too possessive was somewhat cringey. What had changed? Why were you so quick to fall for his charms?

“I’m not scared!” you quickly stood up for yourself. “I just didn’t know who he was, that’s why I called your name.”

Ravn smiled fondly.

“There’s no need to worry,” he reassured you. “Seoho is my best friend. He’s a magician.”

“Woah,” you were amazed to have met yet another supernatural creature. Things were getting more and more interesting.

“Would you like to explain to me why there’s a human in your castle?” Seoho intended to find out.

Ravn gulped anxiously. Seoho was staring at him intensely. You looked at Ravn, then at Seoho, then back at Ravn and the tension in the kitchen was too terrifying to move or speak a word. What had you done wrong?

“Y/N, could you go upstairs for a bit? I need a moment alone with Seoho.” Ravn whispered gently but you knew this wasn’t a request. 

So, you quietly slid away from the room, but before you could start walking towards your new bedroom, you couldn’t help but overhear Ravn’s answer.

“She won’t tell anyone about what we are.”

“How can you be so certain?” Seoho responded angrily. “Don’t you remember what almost happened to Xion when his secret was exposed?”

You were in no place to hear any of this but it was too tempting to miss. You felt really bad about eavesdropping but if you wanted to survive in Ravn’s castle, you had to know what to avoid doing or saying.

“How can I forget when I’m the one who pulled him out of this mess, in the first place,” Ravn replied just as angry.

“There’s a reason why I insisted on erasing your victims’ memories! Humans are the lowest form of existence and they can’t be trusted!”

“I was a human once,” Ravn reminded his friend in a sad, almost nostalgic voice.

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you, huh? I swear to Lucifer, if she exposes us…”

“I can deal with the consequences for my actions, Seoho. Just leave Y/N out of this.”

“What makes her so special?”

Ravn was silent for a brief moment.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me she’s…”

“Shh,” Ravn interrupted his friend as if he somehow knew you were listening at the door. “It’s just a theory.”

“You’re being very defensive over a mere theory,” Seoho pointed out.

“I’ll let you know when I find out for sure.”

“Well, until then, you can’t blame me if I choose to stay away,” Seoho announced.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Ravn said calmly.

“Good night, sweet prince.” Great. Another Shakespeare fan, even though he strongly disliked you. And the whole human race, for that matter.

“I’m not dead,” Ravn laughed.

“Well, technically, you are,” Seoho reminded him and judging from the abrupt end of the conversation, he’d somehow disappeared. Magicians, eh? 

You could now hear Ravn’s steps approaching so you ran up the stairs as fast as you could. You wondered if vampires had super hearing as well as super speed. 

You hurriedly opened the door to your bedroom and flopped yourself onto the bed, grabbing the book on your nightstand and opening it at random, meaning to pretend you had been casually reading and not at all eavesdropping Ravn and Seoho’s conversation. 

Soon enough, Ravn walked in on you only for you to realize you were holding the book the wrong way. Fuck. You mentally slapped yourself for being so stupid and reckless. Ravn sat down to you calmly and sighed.

“What part of go upstairs did you not get?” he asked you in a serious tone.

It was at that moment you knew…you fucked up.

“How much of it did you hear?” Ravn continued once you didn’t say a word.

“M-most of it,” you replied in a small voice. 

Your hands were shaking and you put the book down, because it was of no use right now, you’d gotten caught and you were going to die. Goodbye, world.

Ravn sighed once again.

“Are you angry with m-me?” you murmured sheepishly, avoiding to make eye contact.

“Not really,” he confessed. “Just…upset.”

“I’m s-sorry for listening, I didn’t m-mean to.”

“Then, why did you do it?” Ravn asked, slightly raising his voice, which made you flinch.

“I wanted to know why your friend had such an intense hatred for humans. And to…possibly avoid doing anything that would make you share his opinion. That would make you…want to get rid of me.”

You finally dared look into his face. What you saw wasn’t what you expected to find. He didn’t seem angry at all, just…unbelievably sad. Like he’d said.

“And did you find the answers you sought?”

“Not really. I’m just as confused as before.”

Ravn scoffed lightly.

“Ask away, then.”

“What almost happened to your friend Xion…did it have anything to do with a human?”

Ravn nodded.

“Will you…t-tell me about it?”

“Xion is a vampire like me,” Ravn started. “Once upon a time, he fell in love with a human girl. And for a while, he thought she loved him back. Until…she betrayed him. She came from a family of vampire hunters. She was deceiving Xion for months. And one night, she made him walk right into a trap. Luckily, Seoho had warned me about having heard a fraction of her thoughts. At first I doubted it, but something made me follow Xion. The girl had led him deep into the forest. He was surrounded by her, her brother and their parents. She had poisoned him with juniper and he was too weak to defend himself. They were torturing him and…were about to put a wooden stake through his heart if I hadn’t intervened. I…had to kill all of them. I usually don’t kill humans but…Xion is my friend, I couldn’t just let this go.”

You were quiet for a couple of minutes, silently considering everything you’d heard and what it meant for you. Of course, he had killed humans. It was vampire nature, after all. 

But you were surprised to find out that this changed nothing about how you felt. You still wanted to stay with him. Were you afraid? Hell to the yeah. Were you also curious to find out more about him? Now, more than ever. Did that make you weird? You didn’t know and you didn’t care.

“I’ll understand if you want to walk away. And I won’t stop you,” Ravn said in a composed tone but you could see he was struggling.

“Why would I want to leave?” you were frantic. “You had no choice. You had to save your friend. If…someone threatened to kill a friend of mine, I would react in the same way, irregardless of whether my enemy was human or vampire.”

Ravn smiled knowingly. He didn’t bring up the fact that you never before mentioned anything about having any friends.

“And if it were your own family who threatened to kill your friend?”

You smirked viciously.

“Especially if it were my family. I would, in fact, enjoy it.”

His eyebrows rose in shock. He never pressured you for any information about why you’d rather stay in his home than return to your own. He figured you’d tell him if you felt ready.

“Do you have any more questions?”

You considered asking him about his theory concerning you but you remembered how he’d interrupted his friend Seoho, probably because he knew you were listening on the other side of the door. Which meant that he didn’t want you to know. So, you decided to forget about it. For now. You shook your head.

“But I want to say something, instead.”

“Go ahead,” Ravn encouraged you.

You hesitantly put your hand on top of his and looked him directly in the eyes.

“What that girl did to your friend Xion…I would never do to you.”

Ravn’s pupils sparked with emotion but his words were as cold as his skin.

“Never say never.”

“I wouldn’t!” you insisted passionately. “I made a promise!”

Ravn laughed.

“Okay, okay, relax,” his free hand touched your cheek softly. “I trust you.”

You beamed and leaned into his touch.

“So…you won’t get rid of me yet?” you inquired in a cute voice.

“Do you trust me?“ 

"No,” you chuckled, the lie leaving your lips easily.

“Clever girl,” Ravn caressed your cheek and you could swear you were seconds away from melting. He was kinder to you than any humans you’d interacted with in your short life. “You can even read books backwards! Truly a talent,” he said, mockingly reminding you of your awkward plan to appear nonchalant.

“Stahpp,” you pushed his shoulder with your own. “I was scared you’d be mad at me!”

“What, and you didn’t consider the fact that I could literally hear your loud breathing and the blood pumping through your veins?”

“I knew it! You guys have super hearing, as well. What else should I know?”

“Mmm, how about…I can hear your stomach grumbling right now. You never had the chance to eat that sandwich you were making, did you?”

You groaned in embarrassment.

“Ugh, right. Cause your friend interrupted my midnight snack.”

“Well, how about you finish your sandwich and then, take care of my midnight snack?” Ravn suggested smoothly.

“Sounds like a deal,” you giggled and grabbed his hand and hurried towards the kitchen.

You munched on your sandwich happily, while Ravn observed you. The knowledge that you were the food was a bit troubling but you were strangely certain that Ravn wouldn’t kill you. For him, having hunger for human blood was just as natural as you craving bread or cheese or tomatoes. And you were learning how to accept that. The way he had accepted you for yourself.

“I’m done,” you informed him, sounding a tad bit too excited to be devoured by him. 

You leaned back against the kitchen counter and offered him your neck. Ravn walked towards you slowly, the anticipation forcing you to quiver needily. There was something intoxicating about the way his fangs pierced your skin, something that made you lose yourself in his touch. 

Of course, you would never tell him that, it would give him far too much satisfaction and you liked that he believed this was a quid pro quo relationship. If he knew just how much you were enjoying yourself, you were afraid it would change your dynamic. And you weren’t ready for that. 

The minute his teeth were finally on you, you had to bite your own lips to stop yourself from moaning his name. He was holding your lower back for support and you could already feel your legs starting to give out. But you didn’t want to stop him just yet, because there was something absurdly sensual about him biting you, your human blood being transferred into his immortal body. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for too long but you treasured every second in his arms as if it was eternity. Once you felt your legs shaking, you dug your nails into the back of his neck to signal him you were about to pass out. Ravn immediately released you, causing you to stumble awkwardly. His hands were immediately wrapped around you again.

“You good?” he asked in concern.

You nodded weakly and placed your hand against his chest for support.

“Can you walk?”

Another nod on your behalf. Ravn stepped back, giving you space. You barely made one metre before you tripped, collapsing right into his arms.

“What am I to do with you?” he tsked at your feebleness and lifted you carefully.

He was so strong. If it were anyone else, this would probably frighten you, but because it was him, you felt uncharacteristically safe. As Ravn carried you upstairs, you could feel yourself drifting away. It wasn’t exactly passing out, you were just sleepy, so it was okay. You hadn’t broken his ground rules.

“Ravn?” you murmured seconds before falling asleep.

“Mhm?”

“Thank you.”

“What for? If it wasn’t for me and my bloodthirst, you wouldn’t be in this state,” Ravn said, amused by your sudden gratitude. But you were already in dreamland.

To be continued…

[xhaotixaesthetica]

Yandere!Ateez Reaction to you Trying to Escape

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

Author’s Note: Heya anon! You’re a lucky one, cause your request got answered the quickest lol. I’m on a roll right now, this is the third request I’m answering today. At least as of when I’m writing this, that’s the case. I could stop halfway through and not finish this until two years later lmao. I outline Yandere!Ateez’s personalities in a previous headcanon, so this is based on those personalities. Some of them, like Yeosang and Jongho, have S/O’s that aren’t even aware they’re Yandere, so in those cases, I made it their reaction to when they think you’re trying to escape.

READ THE TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains mentions and discussion of abusive relationships, threats, violence, death, supernatural creatures, depression, self-harm, disturbing sexual descriptions, and mental illness. The behaviors and relationships depicted below are abusive and unhealthy. These are not examples of healthy relationships, it’s actually the opposite. This is meant to imagine the members of Ateez in a popular anime trope and it in no way represents their real-life personalities and characters. It’s fiction, it’s for fun, PLEASE DON’T READ IT IF YOU KNOW YOU WON’T LIKE IT OR THIS KIND OF STUFF DISTURBS YOU!

Genre: angst?? IDK really

Word Count: 2.7K+

You are in: the Asteroid Belt. 

Hongjoong

The Perfect Boyfriend 

Bitch, I’ll pray for you. Hongjoong is an extremely violent boyfriend and trying to escape is NOT advisable unless you know you have a completely foolproof plan.

 He told you to never run. He told you that you won’t have any warnings or three strikes. If you leave he will catch you and he will hurt you.

Hongjoong is a man of his word, but you didn’t listen.

“Aww, baby,” Hongjoong made a mock pout, crouching down to your level. “Does the poor baby’s broken leg hurt?”

You couldn’t even look at it, it was twisted at such a grotesque angle. You’d always heard that broken bones didn’t hurt as much as you would think, and you found that to be true right now. Or maybe you were just in so much in all the other bruised parts of your body that it drowned out the pain in your leg.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to me, you stupid bitch.” 

Seonghwa 

The Ice King Everytime I write that, I think of the Ice King from Adventure Time.

The silence was unbearable. He hadn’t said anything since your bodyguards brought you back, kicking, screaming, and terrified.

He just stared at you blankly, nothing in his eyes, nothing on his face, nothing in his body language. Occasionally, he would take a sip of the glass of brandy on the table beside him. Sometimes cross and uncross his arms over his chest.

All the while just staring, not saying anything.

You were too scared to speak, eventually too scared to even look at him, opting just to stare at your clammy hands clasped together in your lap.

What was he thinking?

Would he punish you?

Would he forgive you?

Would he beat you?

Would he . . . kill you?

You waited for what could have been hours, bracing yourself for an even more violent response the longer he sat.

But none of that came.

Without a word, Seonghwa stood and glided from the room. You thought he slammed the door the tiniest bit harder than normal, but you were so scared that you were sure your mind had made it up.

As you shuffled back to your room, you hurried as quick as you could past his door.

Your heart was beating too loud, heart too heavy with despair and disappointment, to hear the very faint sounds of sobbing coming from behind his door.

Yunho 

The Damsel in Distress Next Door 

Theoretically, you could 100% leave Yunho. You could walk out at any time you wanted and he wouldn’t go after you if he knew you were leaving because you wanted to break up and not because you’re hurt or something’s wrong. He wouldn’t hurt you or try and guilt-trip you.

He would say that he wishes you the best and that he won’t try to hurt himself again.

He. Is. Lying.

The minute you walk out that door, he’s closing all the blinds and windows, turning all the lights off, going in his bathroom, and getting the razor blade out of his shaver.

It’s tiny in his huge hands and that makes him even clumsier. He’s shaking, he’s crying, and blood is already spurting everywhere. He’s going to punish himself for everything bad thing he ever did in your relationship that he never got a chance to hurt himself for.

He remembers everything, without even having to write it down, and he’ll give himself the “appropriate” punishment for every bad action, even down to the tiny, most minute things like the time he forgot to put your favorite condiment on the sandwich he made you three months ago, or accidentally pulling your hair when he was running his fingers through it last year.

It might take a while to give himself all those punishments, but he’s going to make sure he stays alive until he gets everything he thinks he deserved.

The time he spends punishing himself is pretty much your only window of opportunity.

Because you know exactly what’s going on. You know what’s happening, you have that same bad feeling from last time, only amplified by ten.

You know he’ll die if you don’t go back.

You could always call the police and send them there, but you honestly doubt their ability to be able to hold him. Yunho’s an adept liar, and he’d get out of hospital treatment, probably in weeks, just to do the same thing. Except there wouldn’t be anyone to call the police then and there was no doubt he’d die then.

At this point, you don’t even believe Yunho can be fixed.

You have the choice between saving his life and being imprisoned in that relationship with him forever or let him die so you can heal and be free.

Yeosang 

The Secret Serial Killer 

Yeosang’s initial reaction is going to be straight-up confusion.

He doesn’t understand how in the world you could have found anything out that would make you leave.

He was so careful, always so cautious. The police don’t even know what he is or the things he’s done, so how would you?

You hadn’t been acting weird lately. Or had you? How would he not notice?

But the truth is you hadn’t noticed anything. Like I said, Yeosang is too careful, too sneaky, too clever.

What really happened is that you were out with a friend yesterday evening and decided to spend the night as no one felt like driving and both of your phones were dead so you couldn’t call Yeosang to pick you up. You got to her house and put the phone on the charge before eating a late dinner, intending to call him when it had charged up a bit, but you fell asleep before you could do so.

And this happened to be on a night where Yeosang had prior commitments so he couldn’t stalk you so see what you were doing. He was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as he got home, only panicking when he woke up the next day to find you still gone.

And now, it was eleven o’clock and Yeosang was pulling up to your friend’s house, calming only slightly when he saw you about to get in your friend’s car, phone in hand, looking worried.

He realized you’d probably been trying to call him but the blood pounding against his ears didn’t allow him to hear the phone he’d thrown haphazardly into the passenger seat.

Yeosang barely even parks before open the car door, anything he was about to say dying on his tongue as an explanation rushed out of your mouth.

Yeosang takes it gracefully, nodding, as he pulls you into his arms.

“I was scared something happened to you,” he says, to which your friend starts cooing over your relationship.

She just doesn't know that he’s already formulating a back-up plan in case you found out about him and tried to leave.

He had no problem killing your friends off one-by-one if it meant you’d stay with him.

San

The Jekyll and Hyde 

No matter how San was feeling previously, your attempted escape would undoubtedly bring out Other San.

You’d seen Other San angry before. You’d seen him throw things, punch gigantic holes in walls, scream till he was hoarse, had him kick you in the stomach so hard he almost ruptured your organs, and even seen break an entire table once.

But none of that, none of it compared to the way you were seeing him now.

His gait was slow and confident, his dark eyes following you like a predator, a terrifying smirk painting his face, the malice of it detracting from every handsome feature he had.

“Baby,” he laughed, shaking his head, crossing to the kitchen and disappearing for a moment. You’d run if you thought you actually had a shot of escaping but you knew you didn’t and San was already angry enough.

“You’re so stupid, baby,” he giggled, voice muffled by distance and the more overpowering sound of metal instruments tinkling and bumping against each other.

You said nothing.

When San emerged, it was with a long meat knife with an incredibly sharp blade. You didn’t even know you had that.

San’s eyes were wild, manic as he advanced toward you, shuddering at the sound of your terrified whimpers.

“If you wanted me to hurt you, all you had to do was ask.”

Mingi

The Clingy Bad Boy 

This is probably going to be pretty short because I don’t see Mingi having a gigantic reaction, shocking as that may seem. It wasn’t short at all, but that’s because I got description crazy.

He would just have a really violent one.

The minute he got you back in the house, he’d look at you for a second.

And then he’d punch the shit out of you.

You blacked out and when you woke up, it was to an aching body and bruises all over your body. Some places were swollen, some cut, and some bleeding, but, thankfully, nothing was broken.

For some reason, breaking bones seemed like a line Mingi wasn’t able to cross when it came to you.

Personally, you’d rather he broke a single bone and left you alone than do all this, but that wasn’t something you’d say out loud.

You looked up when the door opened to reveal Mingi coming in the room carrying a glass of water, a sandwich and chips, and a few pills.

He sat in a chair beside the bed, putting the food on one side of the nightstand and holding the glass of water and the pills out to you. “Take these,” he said, no trace of his previous anger, but no trace of remorse either.

He looked like this was a normal, everyday occurrence.

You complied, recognizing the pills as two painkillers and swallowing them along with a couple large gulps of water.

Mingi brought a first-aid kit from under the bed, cleaning cuts and applying ointments to your wounds, humming in his low, deep voice as he did so.

And even though he was the one who did this to you, the human mind is an absolute bitch and you relaxed as you heard him sing the familiar melody. He was humming the song he always sang when you were sad.

When he finished treating you, he gave you the food and let you eat before helping you to the bathroom, giving you a hot bath and helping you brush your teeth, do your skincare routine, and dress you for bed.

Your body hurt, but the painkillers helped and Mingi carried you and did everything for you so you didn’t have to move around as much.

He sang you to sleep as well, something he rarely did.

As you drifted, halfway between sleep and consciousness, you felt him lean down to your ear and say, “I already told you not to leave me. I meant it. Don’t make me do this again.” 

Wooyoung

The Incubus 

I really don’t see a way for you to even attempt to escape from Wooyoung. He has demons guarding you and he uses his powers to keep track of you at all times. Not to mention, you can’t navigate Hell, only a demon can. This is a fact that both you and Wooyoung are well aware of.

If you managed an escape attempt, it would only be because Wooyoung was bored and he allowed it to happen. He might actually like you more if you did this. It’d give him something fun to do and an excuse to punish you and his punishments were his favorite thing in the world.

He’d tell his guards to let you slip past and watch you, amused, as you ran out of the house and past the gates. You didn’t last long, eventually too incredibly confused by the twists and turns of hell, too scared of the glowing eyes of unknown creatures that you could see lurking hungrily at you through the dense shrubbery.

Wooyoung was slightly impressed, though. It was longer than any human’s ever lasted and certainly longer than he expected of you.

But still, he waited. You had to know no one else was coming for you. You had to know that without his help, you’d die here. And it’d be a slow and painful death, much more so than any death on earth could be.

You had nowhere else to turn . . .

“Wooyoung!”

There it was.

Wooyoung grinned as he appeared before you in a flurry of black smoke, even more amused at the sight of you sobbing on your knees, hating the fact that you had to return to him but having no other choice.

He tsked disapprovingly, crouching down so he was eye-level with you, his finger slipping under your chin to bring your head up to look at him.

“Bad baby. Now I have to punish you.”

Wooyoung grunted as he thrust quickly into the demon, her loud screams of pleasure reverberating off the walls.

Her smirk was smug as she looked at you, chained in the corner and forced to watch him fuck her.

It was your usual punishment, except Wooyoung normally makes you watch him fuck three or four women (demon stamina was a hell of a thing). But he seemed to be more taken with this girl; they were on their third round and he hadn’t shown any sign of tiring out yet.

You didn’t know what that meant. Had they met before? Did he already like her? Was he . . . was he thinking about replacing you?

You tried to tell yourself that that didn’t matter, that it was something you would be happy about, but you couldn’t deny the lurch your stomach gave at the thought.

If Wooyoung found someone else, what would he do to you?

Would he throw you out? As much as you hated him and this horrible fucking place, you couldn’t ignore the fact that it was much safer here than out there with the other things that lurk in this realm.

And he definitely wouldn’t be nice enough to take you back home.

Would he kill you? There’s a chance it would be quickly but, knowing him, it would be long and drawn out.

Maybe it would be in your best interest not to piss him off, after all.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “So tight!”

His head was thrown back as the woman climbed on top of him, riding him quickly, his hands kneading her ass.

Through his haze of pleasure, he grinned as he read your thoughts. You were starting to question yourself, starting to wonder what was actually in your best interest, just as he wanted.

He became more vocal, making sure not to glance your way as he thrust into the woman and kissed her passionately, both of them groaning loudly as he came.

He could hear how their noises made you feel.

For now, you’d comply because it was best for your safety. But eventually, you’d actually believe you loved him.

“This could be you if you weren’t so mean, love,” he said, placing the woman on her back and thrusting into her once more, going back to ignoring you as he pounded into her, moaning as her legs locked around his waist and her nails dug into his back.

His ego was bigger than ever as he felt your fear amplify, scared he would replace and throw you away, terrified of what lurked outside these walls.

Yes, his plan was going lovely.

Jongho

The Overprotective Guard Dog 

We need more Jongho GIFS

OK, I know this is going to be hella short because Jongho would not have a big reaction at all. If you simply wanted to break up, he would ask why. He’d ask what he could change for you two to stay together. He’d change accordingly. If you still wanted to break up, he would reluctantly let it happen and you two would continue to be friends.

If it was because you found out about him, then he would disappear, stalking you quietly from the sidelines without your knowledge.

In all scenarios, Jongho will continue stalking you, taking out threats and people that bother you from afar.

You think you’re rid of him, but you’re his god/ess and he’ll always be around to serve you, whether you know it or not. 

The Asteroid Belt 

Starlink Intergalactic Navigator 

[softdavidrose]

💘choose five of your own favourite edits and do a short commentary on each, at what you absolutely loved about it as well as what you’d do in it now as in order to improve and other comments!💘 tag ten mutuals of yours to provide an opportunity to amazing content creators such as yourself to appreciate their edits and spread love!!

i was tagged by the lovely sara @amez-santiago thank you!! ♥♥♥

i’m gonna tag some amazing gif makers!! @patrickbrewcr @danslevys @rosesapothecary @oscarspoe @peraltiagos-blog @jakeperalta @wild-aloof-rebel @julieandrws and anyone else who wants to do it!

david rose + the pan flag colors this is probably one of the hardest and most rewarding gifsets i’ve ever made!! each step of making this took a really long time, from finding scenes that fit, either for colors or just moment where david was still (which i might say are very few lmao but same), to the coloring which was also very hard to achieve, especially because only the background has to be in color and sometimes even just one frame can fuck up the whole thing (like for example if the character moves too much you’d either have frames where the character’s skin/clothes/whatever are the bg color or frames where the bg color isn’t there and it’s hard) needless to say it’s a gifset i love a lot because hashtag representation and seeing all the lovely comments in the tags legitimately makes my day 🤧🤧 if i had to change something i might look harder for a different scene to use for the second gif because it doesn’t look as good as the other ones but 🤷 + bonus patrick + the gay flag colors because it took even LONGER than this one but it somehow looks worse lmao

rosa diaz + ha ha ha from my b99 rewatch series, this is a relatively simple gifset but it took me so damn long i honestly don’t know if there is an easier version to achieve that “scrolling” text effect but i really wanted it to look like this and i could not find ANYTHING for it online, so i literally just made like 50, or however many frames there were, text layers and placed each of them so it would look like the text was being “typed” i guess it was HELL but i love it and i think it looks dope

david rose + putting his hands on his face i love this one so much i think it’s so funny and it’s one of my most popular gifsets! i don’t really have a lot to say about it i just love it a lot!! also a part 2 may be coming

david and patrick + height difference i love this so much it’s very tender and i love height differences so i just had to make it LOL i don’t have a lot to add to this except for the fact that im love they

schitt’s creek + c.s. lewis quote oh boy i hope you’re ready for a long ass commentary on this one first of all i would like to blame @the-rosebud-motel for sharing this quote on discord and putting this idea in my head it is literally all her fault!! second of all, this gifset took me a bit because i had initially started with a different idea but it then became what it is now and i while i wish it looked a little different i am happy with the results!! i’m gonna put the commentary under read more because this is getting very long and i have A Lot To Say, if you wanna stay get ready to shed some tears because i did while making this LMAO  hope you decide to read it because i spent a lot thinking about ways to make this perfect, but if you don’t wanna read it all that’s okay, thank you for reading all the way down here!!

okay so first of all, in my head this gifset is divided into three parts, the first one being the first 3 gifs, the second one being the middle one, and the third one being the last 3 gifs. in the next paragraph i’ll explain the Parallels™ and why each scene works for that specific moment or line and you’ll understand why i have this little ~division~ part one: gif #1 is one of the very first scenes of the show. the roses have lost everything and you can see the portrait being taken away in the background, a symbol of their wealth and life being gone. (you can’t change the beginning)

gif #2 is the roses staring at the town sign in 1x03. they’re shocked and weirded out by it and they just got to this town and the sign is a symbol of schitt’s creek being “gross” or “weird” etc

gif #3 is from 1x04, johnny and moira struggle with connecting with their kids and believe they are bad parents (as the title of the episode suggests), and so attempt to play a game of two truths and one lie to try to bond with david and alexis (needless to say, it doesn’t go well)

part two: gif #4 is from happy anniversary, the season 2 finale. the roses dance together as a family, they admit they love each other and have what is arguably the first happy family moment of the series. It’s a turning point for them, it’s their new beginning (but you can start from where you are)

part three: gif #5 is a parallel to gif 3: johnny and moira take their time to get a cake for David and alexis’ big days (they’ve done the best they can!!!!!). this time the effort is real and appreciated!!!

gif #6 is a parallel to gif 2: the roses are staring at another sign, the shining new “rosebud motel”. this time, they’re happy and excited, as the sign symbolises their full commitment to the town, that is now their home, and to stevie who is by now unofficially a rose as well 😭

gif #7 is a parallel to gif 1: the portrait is there and for a while they thought that’s what they wanted, a symbol of their status as wealth, but as moira says in the same episode “it doesn’t fit, and not just physically. we aren’t those people anymore. [...]” . this time when the portrait is left behind, it is not because it’s taken away from them, but because they are the ones to walk away from it: this is where the roses fully decide to leave their old lives behind and accept all the love and happiness that schitt’s creek has given them. the portrait, symbol of their old lives, is not what they need anymore, and actually it’s not what they have needed for a very long time. they walk together back to the motel, laughing at a joke moira made, and fully embracing the gift that has been given to them, a chance to rewrite their own story (and change the ending)

the entire gifset is then tied with the progression of colors, going from an almost black and white to colorful and vibrant. this is of course to symbolize how they went from being desperate and depressed to happy and loving BUT the beginning is not “just” the beginning of the series aka them losing everything, because the sadness and desperation was there before they lost everything even if they didn’t realize at first. so to quote the first episode, schitt’s creek was the roses’ saving grace, except not in the way it was intended in 1x01. sure it was shelter for when they lost all their money, but it was so much more than that, because it made them a family and gave them all they really needed, which isn’t money or wealth but kindness and love.

anyways uhhhhh, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[salty-donut-collecter]

Why Not?

Part Twenty-Five

Twenty-Four    {Masterlist}    Twenty-Six

Chapter Word Count: 1197

Trigger Warnings: Negativity, panic attacks, possibly mentions of flashbacks and huge arguments and such

Please tell me if I need to tag anything else :)

*Also, I’m planning on having this story as a slow burn, so please be prepared :)

Prompts: “Do I look like I give a fuck?”, “I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling a lot of  it.”, and “Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.”

A/N: Happy reading! (Also, feel free to comment your thoughts! I love reading comments :))

Also, if you’d like to be added to the tags list, please let me know! :D

      _____________________________________________________

An intense feeling of happiness was, unfortunately, rare for you, so this felt like a moment of pure ecstasy. A bonus was that you'd also managed to bring all of your stuff along with you.

However, you couldn't stay in the compound. In fact, unless someone was willing to hide you, you probably couldn't stay anywhere for long. You had no doubt that Tony would track you. The real question is whether or not he'd trust the rest of the team to tell them where you are.

It took a few minutes, but you soon had a destination in mind, and you were quickly imagining it.

Now getting there took a little longer (probably because you were pretty sure you weren't on the verge of immense amounts of pain), but you were in Amsterdam in a matter of seconds.

Although, much to your rapidly beating heart's surprise, you were also in the middle of a busy street.

You dodged a car, jumping onto the pavement, where you almost got run over by a fucking cyclist. This was scary and all, but it got ten times worse when you almost got run over by another fucking cyclist.

Ugh, and to think not that long ago you'd come back home to think this would be a nice week with the family. Oh, how the times change.

With a short sigh, you look around you, realizing this... wasn't where you really wanted to be. Where you wanted to be was home, but then again, you weren't really sure where that was anymore. Were you supposed to consider HYDRA home? Your house back in Brooklyn? The Avengers tower?

The questions were jumbled-- jumbled to the point where it was starting to get to you. It was... confusing, to say the least. Focussing on it made you dizzy.

So, you closed your eyes and focused on a place that felt as close to a home as you would be welcome in right now.

.

..

...

.....

....

...

..

.

When you opened your eyes, you smiled, happy to find yourself in Nelson and Murdock (Attorney at Law) 's office. You knew that here, out of anywhere, you'd be welcomed with open arms. You were also happy to admit you could get past Matt, the human lie detector, without him calling you out on your bullshit. (At least so far, anyway.)

You were glad to see that they were also there. Karen and Foggy looked a little shocked by your presence, but Matt was smiling.

"Y/n," he smiled, "it's good to see you again." he joked, a hand coming to greet you. Apparently, they hadn't really been working.

Well no, they'd been arguing, but that didn't matter. They usually tried not to argue in front of you anyway.

With that, you smiled, "Nice to hear you too, Matt." you joked in reply. He laughed and shook his head.

"It's always jokes with you, huh?" He chuckled again.

"Lmao they're funny so why not spread some smiles, right?" You blushed, glad he couldn't see it. He could probably feel the microscopic raise in temperature though.

"Y/n, why're you here exactly?" Foggy asked, looking at your arm skeptically. You must've gotten scrapes from almost getting run over five-billion times.

You gave him an equally skeptical look, "Since when is it illegal to visit old friends?" You asked, still trying to maintain you usually chill composure. Never once have they had to chew you out before. And since it looks like they were just in the middle of a grand argument, you didn't want this time to be the first.

Looks like fate didn't want to give you what you wanted.

"I can taste the fact that you have scrapes all over your arms, Y/n." Matt chuckled, probably trying to seem chill so you'd open up.

Your smile kind of faded as you looked at your arm, and you sighed, wondering if you should even bother talking to them.

See, the problem with your relationship with this small team, was that you usually liked to get away from your problems with them, not talk about them and try to figure them out and all that. Yeah no. That's not something you really did with anyone. (Except occasionally Peter or Pietro, because they know the best places in the city.)

So, you sighed, and with a heavy heart, spoke.

"I... I've gotta go..." You start to concentrate on a new destination, "But if anyone asks, you never saw me. You didn't even know I was missing."

There was chatter. They asked you questions. They even tried to hold onto you. It didn't matter though, they were all gone soon. You'd disappeared.

Monster.

You were in... Jessica Jones's office....

"Uhh..." You frowned, "I didn't mean to come here... How's she going to help me?" You asked yourself, "I doubt she remembers me, so that means she'll probably kill me so I--"

"Well you're right about one thing," Someone spoke up from behind you, "I don't remember you," She was holding a beer bottle, and she didn't look alarmed in the slightest.

"Cool power ya got there. Can you use it to get out of my apartment?" She asked, sounding less harsh than you'd thought she would.

The two of you had only met once, but it was long enough for you to have read her brain by the time you two parted ways. What you got from her was that she was a good person, but she didn't do good things because they didn't work for her. She didn't want to spend her life being endlessly disappointed by the faulty methods Matt or Ironfist may use, so she created her own, sort of legal way to go. Some would call her a bad person, some would call her a misguided saint. Either way, at the core of everything, she strived to realistically help people where she could, so she did.

You smiled at Jessica, trying your best not to feel sad about your situation. The last thing you needed was a pity party. Thankfully, Jessica was not one to pity people. Maybe she as the type of person you needed right now.

"Theoretically, yes." You answered, "But I came here without intending to, so I'm not really sure if I can. Y'know?" You shrugged, turning to fully face Jessica.

Jessica sniffed, taking a swig of her beer, "Sure, sure..." she frowned, looking at her beer, "This brand is shittier than I remember." she sighed, taking another swing anyways.

"That's why whiskey's better." you said, "It's stronger too, so you don't have to drink as much if you don't want to." You shrugged.

Jessica squinted at you, "Aren't you a little young for whiskey?" she asked.

You smiled and chuckled, "Did your youth stop you?" you asked.

She nodded, "Point taken."

After a moment of silence, you clear your throat, checking the time once more before turning your phone completely off so the Avengers have a harder time tracking you.

Another moment went by, and you sighed, a sheepish smile coming to your face.

"So... it's getting late--"

"Beat it, kid."

"Great, I'll take the couch."

...

_____

Taglist: @introvertedsin @galacticalstarcat @acidrain707

[storytellingandtea-blog]

:D :D :D “no questions, no lies” + Itachi/Shisui

Soooo this turned into a full-on oneshot. I think this might be the longest thing I’ve written that isn’t abandoned and/or a WIP lmfao. It is 3 am and I just finished this, so it’s probably got mistakes and typos and such. I’ll probably edit this up and re-post this to Ao3 at some point, if I don’t hate it in the morning. I was really tempted to just leave if off on the angst and have it as a maybe hopeful, maybe bleak ending, but I thought I’d be a bit nice, since I know you like HEA lmao. That said, I do think the ending paragraphs with the hopefulness are the weakest/most rushed-feeling bit. I was initially intending to end it just at the last text divider thing. I hope you still like it, though

AU: Time travel, aged up Itachi (he’s probably in his mid teens around the massacre). Probably OOC.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, dark themes. Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, self-worth/self-image issues, general Itachi angst.

Word Count:  ~4,400

Ao3 link: Edited version is up! Read on Ao3 for best experience b/c I keep losing my formatting when I try to paste the updated version in here xAx

Mandatory link to my new ItaShi playlist: here

Fic is below the cut

Shisui took a sudden pause from their frantic dash through the trees, a determined glint in his eyes as he took the opportunity to Shunshin to his cousin’s side, hand reaching forward.

“Itachi… what..?” Shisui gripped Itachi’s shoulder and forcibly stopped him, hauling them both down to the ground as gently as he was able, fixing Sharingan red eyes on the younger man. So much had happened in the past hour that it took him much too long to process things enough to even question what the ever-loving hell had happened, though it did speak for his level of trust in his cousin, as well. Even so, he still didn’t know where to start “What is going on? I… are you hurt? What— what did you do? Why are we running? My eye — how..? Danzō? The-the foundation?”

A face much too old, too tired, too… bereaved, yet reservedly fond in the same way it had been for years gazed back at him, unable to meet his eyes. A familiar stranger.

Strained lines on his face, a voice too deep, too haggard and husky for someone so young, replied, a taint of blood and death on his breath , “…I— I cannot, Shisui, do not ask this of me. Not-not until it is safe for you in Konoha. Do not force me to lie to you. Do not force me to make you forget.” His voice trembled. Trembled. Shisui didn’t want to think too hard into what could have broken Itachi this way. There was no other way Shisui could begin to describe it. At some point, the fragile points in his dear friend had shattered, when he wasn’t looking, and no one was there to pick up the pieces, to soothe the jagged edges. Shisui, busy, perhaps willingly blind, Sasuke too young, his parents too caught up in their troubles… They had failed him, and Shisui had to make it right, regardless of what Itachi seemed to believe of his own actions. There was little that Itachi could do that would turn him away. It kind of hurt to think that the young man didn’t seem to believe so. That he could think so poorly of himself, of their bond. Of him. Shisui refused to even consider that Itachi had, in fact, done something unforgivable. He simply wasn’t that type of person.

“Itachi…” Shisui sighed, and bit his lip when he saw the expression on Itachi’s face, deciding against pushing the issue, for now. He’d just have to do his best to help, without knowing anything beyond what he could read off the familiar stranger’s face.  “… all right, ‘tachi. Just… please. Are you… are you injured? Surely we’re far enough away for me to look you over?” Shisui pressed all the concern and hurt he could into his tone, refusing to feel guilty as he resisted the urge to rub his still-throbbing eye, the one that Itachi had re-implanted not half an hour ago.

He had lost time, waking up in a cave with Itachi by his side some time after falling into the water, impact shocking his body like a block of ice. (In another world, another time, Shisui had given a final, parting gift to Itachi before falling to his death. Itachi had refused to allow it, not again.)

His right eye had been aching when he bolted into consciousness, but was most definitely there behind the careful wrapping around his head. Itachi was hovering above him, but oddly unable to meet his uncovered eye. Things had been… odd with Itachi for the past week, he was even more reclusive than normal. He’d just surmounted it to the tough situation they’d found themselves in, and that it could wait for a more opportune time, that they could talk about it later. Evidently, that had been a mistake. Itachi had an expression he’d wished to never see on his face., body language defeated and weary.

Itachi passed him a water skin after he was certain his cousin was able to sit up on his own before he spoke. Or attempted to. A violent cough echoed through the space as Itachi turned away, taking a moment before he spoke again in a deep, raspy tone ,”We have to go, as soon as you’re able. You need to finish healing, but… it’s not safe here”.

Itachi looked away, seeming hesitant, before rasping “I will manage. They only scraped me. I need rest, but no more than you do. There’s a place we can hide out for a while not too far from here, abandoned by Orochimaru long ago. It still has protections that will serve us well once I get us past them…”

“…I don’t like this, Itachi. You should know you can confide in me by now, surely. I won’t press, but you should know, I’ll always be here for you, on your side. You know that, surely, especially with what’s been going on recently. I hate to see you hurting like this… I hate that you think you have to hide from me, that you’ve been hiding for weeks, if not longer. Let me help you”, Shisui responded in a rushed breath, pained. As always, the words Let me love you remained almost reluctantly unsaid, a painful lump in his throat.

If anything, Itachi looked even more broken and… guilty by that admission, his bloodshot eyes looking even less focused than they had been the entire all-too-hectic night. “No questions, no lies, Shisui”, was all that he managed to that, his eyes moist to accompany his broken tone.

Damn you. Damn you Itachi, and damn your martyr complex. You’re killing yourself, I know it. Damn your parents, for forcing your pacifistic ass into Anbu. Damn this world for being so unfair., for not allowing someone so inherently pure and wonderful, someone with so much to give to live without tarnishing his hands and soul. Without being forced into hating himself for what he’d had to do.

Shisui fought back the words from surfacing, fingers digging into Itachi’s shoulder unkindly, before he forced a nod. Something about Itachi’s almost-amused huff, the most he’d seemed like himself in much too long, told him that the younger man had picked up on at least some of the things that went unsaid. Shisui wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. For all his lack of social grace, at times, Itachi was still a genius, and they had had at least one or two conversations of a similar nature in the past.

“Lead the way”, he finally managed, giving up on meeting Itachi’s gaze in the silence. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened, he’d help Itachi. He wouldn’t allow the man he loved resign himself to… his hatred..? He was making a tactical retreat on the issue, though he would never give up. He’d just have to combine his years of reading Itachi, his experience with his ability to subtly needle Fugaku into spilling sensitive information. Shisui was determined. He would bring back Itachi from the precipice or no return he was wavering on, regardless of whether it was partially on purpose.

Shisui had been in this abandoned lab for… a week and a half, he supposed. For all that Itachi had claimed to need rest, he had disappeared that first morning, some time before he’d woken up. Needless to say, that really put a damper on his plans to figure out what the damn hell was going on, how Itachi was holding up with his illness… That period of time had been filled with high amounts of stress, anxiety and concern. Itachi had left him supplies, and a brief note to stay put as he ‘needed to take care of some urgent business’ and ‘there was no need to worry’ and ‘he’d be back as soon as he was able’. Even so, even having no clue where Itachi could have gone, that this was the most likely place for them to intersect again. Shisui was ready to tear his hair out, and just fucking bolt in search for his wayward cousin. In fact, he was making his way out of the hideout when he spotted the limping, battered Itachi.

He inhaled sharply, dropping everything before he Shunshined to Itachi’s side, carefully manoeuvring him onto the only bed in decent repair in the lab as he looked the younger man over. Itachi was… unwell would be the understatement of the century. Shisui felt numb as he tried to figure out the best course of action, his fingers already shining with the green of healing chakra. While hardly the most skilled, Shisui had very good chakra control, as was a necessity for his mastery of Shunshin, and he was able to substitute for a field medic in a pinch.

It had been concerningly touch-and-go for far too long as Shisui worked, Itachi fading in and out of consciousness. For his poor condition, Shisui found it very concerning that he could trace little back little of the damage to any external injuries, hoping that it was simply his lack of experience that prevented him from determining the cause of the internal damage, the blood building up in both lungs, despite no apparent evidence of a puncture.

Shisui had been wiping the bloody tear-like streaks caked on Itachi’s face when he finally awoke, after hours of too-hesitant chakra manipulated healing. “Oh, thank the Sage. Itachi, you’ve worried me sick. Haven’t I told you not to vanish on me..? I’ve had over a week to think all this over… nothing to do but think, really. And I still don’t understand what you think could be so horrible that you’ve been hiding it from me. I would never turn my back on you, I swear it. I lo— You mean the world to me, you’re family. I just want you to heal, you’ve been hurt, and I don’t know why or how, but I’ll make it better.”

Itachi seemed overwhelmed, and strangely pained at the barrage of words, as if they were poised to cut and maim, rather than reassure. Disoriented from just waking up, he hesitated for several beats too long, long enough that Shisui finally had hope for the first time in over a week that things would truly be okay. They weren’t, though. Itachi clammed up, the moment he realised they’d made eye contact, and he flinched away, like a kicked puppy,. He stiffly sat up, reaching into his tattered robes, as-if to retrieve something, “Before anything else, it is safe to return to Konoha, now. However, perhaps, more importantly, I… I am so, so sorry, Shisui. No questions, n—“

“Damn you, Itachi, damn you!” Shisui snarled, tears of irrational anger burning down his face as he made to box Itachi in the ear, only to stare in stunned, pained disbelief as the man he loved dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving behind only a scroll, and a whisper of I’m sorry. Not even a vague imprint of his chakra remained in the air. It felt like a goodbye, like an ‘I’ve done what I need to, and now I’m ready to die’. It felt like a ‘don’t look for me’, it felt like a betrayal of trust. It was a visceral, incomparable pain.

An inhuman noise tore its way from Shisui’s chest as he collapsed on the bedding that would forever be marked by Itachi’s sweat and blood, unable to do or feel anything beyond the hurt, pain, concern, worry, fear, anger, desperation.

It was probably hours later that Shisui finally hauled himself into a sitting position, though it had felt like an immeasurable eternity. He was stiff and sore, face sticky and sore from crying, eyes burning from a Mangekyō he wasn’t able to de-activate. He tugged at his own hair, hoping the sharp stabbing pain would distract from the ache in his soul, and forced his attention onto the scroll, laying deceptively innocent, now on the floor.

Shisui hesitated for a few moments, biting his lower lip raw, before lifting the scroll, and rolling it open. A familiar seal greeted him, and a pang, somehow deeper and more painful than the pervasive ache, struck him. He brought a thumb up to his raw, sluggishly bleeding lip, and smudged it onto the base of the seal, speaking in a broken, stuffed up tone, wavering, “No questions, no lies”. The familiar feeling of Itachi’s chakra caressed him for a moment before vanishing, leaving him with a sheaf of papers, neatly bound, and another, smaller, yet more intricate seal that he didn’t recognise. Setting it aside, after a cursory glance, he turned his gaze to familiar, if rushed handwriting, feeling himself go strangely numb, the further he read, starting to shed tears he thought he no longer had.

Shisui. Shi-nii… Shi-chan…

I hope you find this legible, as my sight has been fading as quickly as my health, as of late.

Oh, Sage. I do not know where to start. Much as I hope my letter finds you well, that you will not despair over one as undeserving as I, I know better than to hope. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. I am so very sorry, for so many things. Alas, I am too much of a coward, too selfish, too tired, too torn, to have the strength to face you as I share the deepest trenches where my soul used to reside.

Until then, please, allow me one last bit of completely unfair, harmful selfishness. Much as someone as you is undeserving of my taint, I love you. I still love you, even though I shouldn’t, after all I’ve done. I no longer deserve to, and yet. And yet. I loved you ever since we were small children, though I suppose it was different, back then. You were ‘just’ family. ‘Just’ my big brother. You did so much for me, you not only put the effort forward to understand, but you actually did. It meant the world to me, back then, when I could not express myself to save my life. I still do, now, no matter how needlessly difficult it had made the past few weeks, hiding my darkness from you. Time passes for all of us, however, and, well, over the years, you grew to mean so very much more to me. I think I realised that night, on the roof, under the stars… I am still deeply mournful I was unable to tell you before I was no longer worthy of earning your love.

Before I delve into the brunt of this retelling, please know, none of the blame is with you. It is my choices, and the choices of people beyond our control that have led to this. None the less, I have done things that are unforgivable, and that I wish not to taint anybody else with. I know that you’d try to forgive me, spin my actions in a way they are redeemable, but I know better. I don’t wish for you to taint yourself, your morals, your soul, with forgiving such a creature as I. You were my heart once, and I do not wish to force you down such a dark path. I must be cruel once more here, my heart. Please care for Sasuke, like you once did for me. With my actions over the past month, he will be having a very tough time.

The brief of it, well. I am from the future. One where I did many unforgivable things. One where I massacred our entire clan, save Sasuke, after you fell down a cliff, eyeless, and drowned. One where I forced my brother into madness to gain enough strength to kill me. I will not try to excuse or explain myself, lest I manage to make you see myself and my actions in a brighter light than I deserve. I have sealed my most important memories of the years that should never again come to pass in that scroll. You can activate it the same way you did my storage seal.

It contains memories of our clan, of my time as a missing-nin with a rebel group, of the upcoming war. I have dealt with Madara, and inhibited Zetsu’s plans to the best of my abilities, so you have time. Once again, I am sorry to push this on your shoulders, dear heart, for I am cruel. You are the only I can trust to take action. Please, don’t make the same mistakes as I. Don’t go it alone.

Ever since I had returned, into my younger body, around a month ago (I am still uncertain as to how it happened. One moment, I was dying to Sasuke’s hands, the next, waking up in the compound), I put forward my best efforts in an attempt to even slightly redeem myself, to prevent the darkest happenings of the future in any way I can. Danzō is dead, as are my father and many of the elders. The details I have also enclosed in the scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve been picking up on, I have not been completely well for some time. At this age, I already had the early signs of my illness, though I was not aware of it, at the time. The deterioration seems to be occurring faster in this timeline, than originally. My organs are under strain, my eyes failing, both from illness and Mangekyō use. Even if I were not tainted beyond saving, beyond redemption, I would not want others to see me like this, make them suffer for me. Much as I acknowledge what I am doing to you is unforgivably cruel, I hope you can begin to understand my reasons. Please be well.

I have left to die, Shisui, do not search for me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, I do not deserve healing. Please. Move on from this, be happy. That is the best thing you could ever do for me, dear heart.

With all my sincerest apologies and remaining soul,

Itachi

It had been just a fortnight since Itachi had vanished, and plans were very well underway for the future, based on the memories Itachi had left. After all, a determined Shisui was a productive Shisui, almost scarily so. Many of the pitfalls of Itachi’s future were unlikely to come to pass with all their contingency plans, upon contingency plans. It doubtlessly helped that many of the key players were dead, or had changed allegiance.

Many, including Shisui, himself, were angry with Itachi, but not for the reason the man himself likely thought. Shisui was so very unexplainably hurt by Itachi’s choice to leave, much as he understood it, in a way. He hated the fact that the man had been so hurt, so consumed by the family madness by the time he returned, that he no longer put any stock in himself, causing to push everyone who cared about him away, feeling undeserving. Unthinking of the harm he was doing to those that found him dear. They would have much to talk through, much to heal, the both of them, but for all his hurt, he couldn’t blame Itachi. And he found it even more painful that the young man had thought his actions irredeemable and unforgivable, considering his forced hand, and less-than-sane mental state at the time of many of these choices. He just wanted to wrap up the man in a stifling hug, and never let him go. It ached. He refused to think about the possibility of Itachi already being gone, of it being too late. He hoped that Itachi felt the need to resolve more things before death caught up with him, that he hadn’t killed himself, or just laid down to die somewhere.

He’d managed to convince Tsunade to return, for all she claimed it was temporary. Hiruzen was hoping to convince her to take over the hat, but that was hardly Shisui’s main concern — she had agreed she’d tend to Itachi, if— when they found him. While she couldn’t promise anything, due to the unreliable nature of the details Shisui had told her, she was convinced she could reverse most, if not all of the damage, if it hadn’t tipped over to the point of no return.

Shisui had gathered the best tracking teams in Konoha, and they were finally ready to depart. Each person had a Hiraishin seal, and access to a messenger summon so that Shisui and Tsunade could appear on location as soon as Itachi was found, and get him stabilised, and to Konoha as soon as possible.

Hiruzen felt a great deal of guilt over the Uchiha, and Itachi’s fathe, specifically, both in the man’a original timeline, and this time around, which allowed Shisui to press a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise, considering the differences in their station. This allowed him access to the forbidden scroll of the village, allowing him to learn the technique for near-instantaneous travel created by the Nidaime Hokage.

And here they were, setting out, two weeks after he’d last seen Itachi, the moment the situation was stabilised, and he felt confident enough in his new Jutsu. Much as he had been antsy to leave in pursuit immediately, he knew it would have done little good without any ability to help Itachi, considering he had little clue of his condition. Shunshin was amazingly useful, but it could cover only so much distance, and was very rough on passengers. Not to mention that his healing would only go so far.

Shisui was determined, hopeful as he watched the teams quickly advancing through the forest. There was no way the greatest trackers in Konoha, supported by Jiraiya’s lauded spy network would be unable to find Itachi. If he was still out there, he’d be brought back, no doubt about it.

If. Oh Sage. No, no, no, he had to still be alive, right? Such a bright flame couldn’t go out without any noticeable change to the world, surely. He had to still be alive.

���right..?

Shisui startled as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Tsunade didn’t offer any empty platitudes, but her steady presence helped settle his spirit. He wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair at what if. He had to have hope, especially when Itachi didn’t.

The next time Shisui saw Itachi, he was… in surprisingly good shape, considering his state the last time he’d seen the man, though much too pale, his face worn.

According to Kakashi, he seemed in the middle of tracking someone, who he’d later found out was Black Zetsu, before he found himself restrained by Konoha-nin. While initially panicked, and intent on escaping, Kakashi ended up talking him down, after he convinced his team to leave them to chat. While not as close as Shisui and Itachi, Kakashi had played an important role in Itachi’s life after he’d entered Anbu, as he’d been the young Uchiha’s commanding officer. Being similar in many ways, as well, had helped them bond. In the time that it took for Kakashi’s ninken to deliver the go-ahead to Shisui, Kakashi explained what had been happening ever since ‘his little vanishing act’, and started to explain why Itachi was wrong for believing he was unforgivable and irredeemable for his actions.

While Itachi was visibly reluctant to agree with Kakashi’s words, he was listening, and it was oddly plain to see that he was starting to take the words to heart. Kakashi had imagined it helped that he was notoriously allergic to feelings and speaking honestly, and that he’d shared some of his own deep wounds and failings. My actions aren’t unforgivable, according to you. Your situation isn’t much different than mine. What makes you so tainted? Learn to forgive yourself, kid.

Itachi leapt to his feet the moment he felt Shisui’s chakra signature, seemingly uncertain for a moment whether he wanted to bolt away from, or to Shisui. His innate impulse, built over many years took over, however, and he Shunshined straight into his cousin, following him in his fall to the ground. He clung tightly to the feeling of warmth, safety, home, for the first time in a long time not pausing to question if he deserved it. Silent tears trailed down Itachi’s face as his half-blind eyes met Shisui’s, willingly, for the first time, ever since he’d returned from the future, “I— I’m so very sorry, Shisui. I have caused you so much —“

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you utter dingbat”, Shisui near-sobbed into Itachi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you thought, for a moment, you didn’t deserve me, that you deserved to die in a ditch somewhere. I fucking love you, too! Did my feelings not matter in this..? If you dared die, I’d have found a way to bring you back, just to kill you myself. You… you…. I’m so happy and relieved you’re okay… I just… you… we have a lot to talk about, but please. You deserve to live, and heal. Please, at least, try for me, even if you don’t think you deserve it for yourself yet”.

Itachi shifted over the sniffling Shisui so that the man was positioned in his lap, happy to note that Kakashi and Tsunade had chosen to give them some privacy. He paused, looking at Shisui’s face, and, once he was certain of his welcome, kissed the corner of the other man’s mouth, before pressing their foreheads together. “For you, anything. I have not been in my right mind for a long time now, as you probably know by now. But, after a long conversation with Kakashi, and some searching in myself, I know I should trust in you, if nothing else. If you believe I’m worth saving, I will try my hardest. I love you, and you are my heart, have been for a very long time. I will endeavour to never hurt you again in this way that I have. I pushed you away for one of the things I love most about you, and for that, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.”

Tsunade, Kakashi, and the rest of the tracking group found the two half an hour later, exchanging soft words and gentle kisses, reluctant to be more than an inch apart at any given moment. They were already starting to heal, as they affirmed themselves, their relationship, in one another, though it would take time for the cracks in their souls to be filled with gold, making something different, yet just as beautiful as it once was. Together.

[izupie]

Fox Fire (Full Spoilers)

This is kind of rough and very broadly going over the story, so there are plot threads, cameos and ‘moments’ I haven’t mentioned here (especially since it was getting so long I nearly just started writing the thing again lmao)

Here’s an extremely brief full spoilers overview of the plot of Fox Fire (my Kacchako Kitsune!Bakugou Miko!Uraraka Japanese Folklore AU thing) if I had decided to continue it...

So Uraraka's whole character is about the ability to move forward, even if it hurts, into a place of your own choosing. Right now she's looking after the shrine and performing her duties as Miko because she feels like she should for her parents. She's never even considered doing anything else, or working towards doing anything else. She has no idea what she wants because she'd never thought about having the chance to make that decision for herself. Bakugou's character is about realising that power and ambition will never really give you satisfaction. His end goal is to get his ninth tail, and he believed everyone was holding him back; the other Spirits, Inari, friends, love etc etc. He has to learn that this stuff actually completes him, regardless of whether he has nine tails or not.

So Uraraka's parents died, leaving her the shrine, but they died so suddenly that everyone in the village believes it's the work of a curse. Nobody will set foot on the hill. So she lives alone, spends her days alone, cooks alone, eats alone, and repeats the process every day - keeping her spirits up and believing that one day her prayers will be answered and the shrine will be busy again. While she grows lonelier and lonelier deep inside. Bakugou is actually a quarter human - his grandmother was a human - and he grew up as friends with two other Kitsune hybrids, Izuku who is a half human and Shoto who is half Bakeneko. Shoto gets his nine tails first, but that kid has insane amounts of power, so Bakugou gets jealous but at least knows he'll get them before Izuku, because he's always been weaker. But Izuku starts training with a Light Spirit (surprise it's All Might) and suddenly the half human hybrid Izuku has his nine tails before he does (and he’s only a quarter human). Bakugou loses his shit and decides it's because Inari is picking on him. He craves those nine tails. So he breaks all ties with the Spirit World, renounces his job as one of Inari's messengers (all Kitsune work for Inari) and goes off alone to find power. After some time he comes across Uraraka's shrine and the tofu and bam, we get the start of the story.

Bakugou decides his noble deed that will earn him his ninth tail will be giving this weak Miko what she wants and being a visitor to her sad shrine. He disguises himself as a human and spends the day with her - she's blissfully unaware of any foul play because she's so. excited. although something does seem... off about him. Inside Bakugou is dying at trying to be 'pleasant' and cracks show up in his demeanor at times. But she goes along with it. It’s a real visitor! The day begins with a tour, (really just some shrine exposition for the readers) and Bakugou is fully regretting his decision, but during some of the day she begins to show some of her loneliness and her fire and he is Surprised. By the end of the day she gives him a fortune, from a basket of fortunes her mother wrote before she died (two years ago) and he picks one out, shoves it in his pocket and says he'll read it later, but as he's leaving he trips or something and it blows out of his pocket. She doesn't mean to pry but as she picks it up, intending to run after him, it flaps open and just says 'Kitsune' on it. So begins her complete and total conviction that he's not what he appears, while Bakugou gets furious that spending the day with her didn't even get him a tail.

Uraraka's suspicions are seemingly confirmed when another visitor comes to the shrine. Someone with green hair and freckles, who says someone in the village mentioned they'd seen his friend Bakugou around the shrine and he's been looking for him, was he here? Uraraka is already totally convinced something strange is going on, but she notices the visitor's shadow has ears and tails and is like OK YEP.  But she's curious more than anything, and doesn't give him away, feigning ignorance. (Izuku doesn't actually have a human form like Bakugou, he just hides his fox features under an illusion, but it doesn't work on shadows and reflections. He's just too distracted looking for his friend to even consider these old rules!) Now she decides she's going to catch Bakugou out if she sees him again. But he doesn't return. The next time she sees him is in the convenience store in the village when she's buying some rice a couple of weeks later, and the other villagers in there are whispering and being mean behind her back (even though she can hear them) and they get a whole lot of abuse from an angry boy who is somehow now in the store too. She's shocked. The villagers are shocked. And they end up going back to the shrine together. Uraraka is just asking so many leading questions at this point to catch him out, but is also legitimately touched by his sticking up for her. By the time they end up at the top of the hill she's really conflicted about being hurt over being lied to and misled and being thankful he was the only person who's ever stuck up for her.

At this point she just fully knows that he’s some kind of spirit, but she gives him a chance to reveal it himself. She confronts him about it, but he denies it, so she grabs his wrist and places a charm on him for ‘revealing secrets’ - revealing his ears and tail. She yells that he lied to her and goes on about how she knew almost from the very first time he came to visit because of the fortune, but his friend stopped by and that was the nail in the coffin on her figuring it out. (This only fuels his rage against Deku more). This is when he reveals his true Kitsune form to her for the first time - ears, tail, markings, outfit, and it would be such an emotionally charged moment. Then there would be lots of yelling. 

Meanwhile the sub plot of the Nomus is that All for One is a bad spirit of bad spirits, creating and spawning these things to cause chaos and destruction in the spirit world. Shigaraki was his agent in the human world, many years ago, who was going to spread them there, but he got caught out at Uraraka's shrine by her parents and they actually died sealing him away into the shrine itself. So in a way, it does turn out that the shrine is cursed. 

Uraraka makes a deal with Bakugou that if he helps her get rid of Shigaraki - partly through a desire for revenge, partly through a desire to cleanse the shrine of all the bad energy that she’s sure has been keeping everyone away this whole time - that she will pray to Inari for his final tail. Inari wouldn’t refuse the pleas of a Miko, surely. They go off to the Spirit world on this quest, Bakugou fully expecting this to be easy, but they release Shigaraki from the seal her parents placed on him, and it turns out he's more powerful than they expected. He is a real threat to them both, and Uraraka only has a few charms to keep herself safe. When Shigaraki targets her Bakugou realises she’ll die, so Bakugou sacrifices himself to save Uraraka. 

In the brief moment of his disappearance into a Soul Ball (the marble that kitsune’s carry) Uraraka uses her most powerful charm - a tiny fox statue holding a daisy in its mouth - that keeps Shigaraki back long enough to use her own psychic powers to get them back to the human world.

She’s now alone again. 

But she’s going to get him back.

She goes on an adventure then in the spirit world, upset that she will have to leave her shrine, upset that she had to leave her charm in the spirit world with Shigaraki, knowing it won’t hold him back forever, and thoroughly lonely again now that Bakugou is gone. She puts his soul ball in a pouch around her neck, determined to get him back, especially since he just saved her life.

She has no idea what to do when she gets there and she meets Tsuyu, a frog spirit, who’s the first one of the 1-A cameos she meets. Uraraka eventually reveals her mission there, and Tsuyu warns her that the spirit world is a dangerous place in turmoil, thanks to the Nomus. They band together and Tsuyu tells her that she needs to go and see a witch called Momo so they go on a little adventure to go see her. When they get there Momo tells her that she can’t help with a soul ball unfortunately, but that there’s a witch that can help only called Recovery Girl. 

(The cameos would be... Momo is a witch, and she can pull objects out of her leathery wings that she conjures, Tokoyami is Momo’s familiar, a man that’s been cursed to be a crow, Jirou is a sound spirit, Kaminari is an Oni, Hagakure is a Tanuki, Iida is a wind spirit.)

So by the time she's  f i n a l l y  led to the spirit Recovery Girl and Bakugou is brought back she's crying and hugging him. It was a tough journey on her own, even with the help she got. When he learns of what she did and what she went through he is equal parts angry and Shook. After he comes back they'd be more like a team, with Bakugou beginning to accept that this Miko who he'd originally thought of as weak, managed to bring him essentially back from the dead with help from the friends she'd made in his absence. While she understands that doing all of this gave her purpose, and she's not the shell of the girl she was before, just mindlessly living for the sake of it.

Ultimately they go back with Uraraka’s new friends and win against Shigaraki, because Bakugou begins to accept help from others, and Uraraka finds strength in doing what she thinks is right, not what she thinks she should be doing. She uses every charm she has in the fight, no longer holding onto the idea that they’re some kind of memory of her parents. 

Their defeat of Shigaraki weakens All for One and the bigger, far more powerful spirits are the ones that ultimately banish him once and for all. 

Uraraka remarks that Bakugou would have once really minded that he wasn’t the one to take him down, since when did he get so realistic? But he’s currently holding her close in the relief of winning their own battle, glad of the peace and quiet and the rare moment of actually being alone together now that Uraraka’s friends won’t ever seem to leave now. (He doesn’t mean it though, he’s kind of attached to those ‘losers’ in his own way). He doesn’t mind not being the one to take down the big bad so much when she’s holding onto him like this. 

She sets up the shrine as a refuge for spirits in the human world, her friends helping to build and expand on her shrine and her parents room is finally changed. Bakugou stays with her, and in the end, he doesn't even get his ninth tail, but he's actually okay with it. He gets to stay with Uraraka, and she’s okay with staying at the shrine with no human visitors, because she gets all sorts of spirit visitors now. She’s never lonely, especially with Bakugou always being with her now.

[quiescentcastiel]

Through the Gates of Hell

this took me way too long to write/post lmao. 2.3k, T, dean/cas, sort of 12x23 coda, resurrection bitches, fluff and angst ha!

He woke suddenly, his heart racing, and sat up in his bed. For a moment, Dean couldn’t remember how he got there, but as he blinked hard, feeling around the bedside table for his phone, the memories flooded back into his mind.

It was ok. Everything was ok. Hell, everything was perfect, and yet for some God forsaken reason Dean still woke up in the middle of the night plagued by all the memories of his previous life. He had to let it go now; he had to leave his past behind. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of blood soaked hands would always find some way to push to the foreground of his mind sending shocks of desperate panic throughout his body.

Dean checked his phone. It was 2:07am. He’d forgotten to dim the screen down before he’d fallen asleep, and the light at full brightness burned the back of his eyeballs. It made him scowl, but it also was the little switch that erased the memories of this night’s dreams from his mind. He quickly turned the phone back off and laid it back on his bedside table.

Sighing and leaning back against the headboard, he let his eyes fall to the figure lying next to him. Dean couldn’t help smiling as he slid back down next to his best friend, watching the covers moved steadily with Cas’ rhythmic breathing. It was still hard to believe that everything had worked out so well, but death always did have a way of revealing certain truths. Dean couldn’t imagine what he would’ve done had Jack not brought Cas back to life. Not that he felt entirely comfortable with that fact, however. Nothing felt right, yet everything was perfect. More than perfect really; Dean could simply reach out and wrap his arms around Cas’ warm body. In fact he-

“You’re thinking so loud that you woke me up.”

Dean blinked. He’d been boring holes into the back of Cas’ head with his eyes and had not realized that he was no longer asleep. “Mmmm, sorry.”

Cas shifted, turning himself around to face Dean and reaching his arm out to find one of his hands. Face to face, Cas’ eyes glinted in the dull light that was shining from under the door.

“What’re you thinking about?” he murmured sleepily, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s knuckles.

“Nothing. Just a weird dream is all.”

Cas blinked and then frowned slightly as he read behind what Dean wasn’t telling him. “Was it a nightmare again?”

“Nah, just a bad dream. I can’t even remember what about.” That was true, for all intents and purposes, but Dean’s nightmares came from real memories, and those he couldn’t so easily forget.

“There’s nothing to fear,” Cas soothed. “You know there’s no evil in this world; that’s why we’re here.”

“Is that what you tell yourself every morning?” said Dean. It must’ve come out a little harsher than he’d intended because Cas’ eyes widened slightly. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t get bad dreams too.”

Cas stopped rubbing Dean’s hands but tightened his grip.

“Only of losing you, Dean.”

Dean flinched, tearing his eyes away from Cas and swinging his legs off the bed. He sat up, letting the sheets fall to his waist. His back was to Cas, but he knew that his eyes hadn’t left him.

“Is that all?” Dean murmured. “What about all the people you’ve hurt? You’ve killed or condemned hundreds.”

“Atrocities which, in this world, neither you nor I have committed.”

“Doesn’t mean they never happened,” Dean said bitterly. “This world may be perfect, but I’m definitely not.”

“So?”

“So I don’t deserve to be here,” Dean snapped. He pushed away the sheets clinging to his body and got off the bed. On his way out of the bedroom, he grabbed a dressing gown.

He should’ve been surprised to see Charlie alive and sitting in the kitchen of the bunker, but many things had changed in the last couple weeks. Well, except for the fact that she still had a terrible sleep schedule.

“Morning, Dean,” she said quietly. She held up a mug. “Kinda fresh coffee?”

“Uh.” He debated whether he was going to try to sleep more tonight, but nowhere in his mind did that seem like a likely possibility. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get it.”

He shuffled over to the coffee pot, grabbing himself a mug from a high shelf. Once his mug was filled, Dean took a sip. It was lukewarm, but sent a cleansing feeling through Dean’s body. He set the mug down on the table opposite Charlie and pulled up a chair.

“You find anything interesting in the Men of Letters records?” he asked. The books about monsters in this Men of Letters library was all theoretical. Hell, the all books in this world about anything supernatural were nothing more than fiction. Though dead and gone as usual, the Men of Letters had been a secret organization of a more Dexter like operation. This bunker was instead protection for nuclear war, killer-virus outbreak, or any other armageddon that humans could bring upon themselves.

“Yeah, but nothing I want to talk about at two in the morning,” Charlie said, shuddering. “I gave up on that hours ago.”

“So what are you doing still awake?”

“Um.” Charlie blushed. “Learning sign language for when Sam and Eileen get back.”

Dean grinned. With no hunting to be done, Sam and Eileen had decided to take a roadtrip together to celebrate their recent reunion. “You realize they’re back in two days. How much do you expect to know by then?”

Charlie flipped him off from behind her laptop.

“Impressive. You’re really getting the basics down.”

“I don’t see you making any more progress than me. You’re not forgetting the bet three of us made, are you?”

“Cas is teaching me.”

“Ah. Must be nice to have a boyfriend fluent in everything,” Charlie teased.

“All our efforts are pointless anyways. You know Kevin is gonna turn up with an ASL vocabulary big enough to give Cas a run for his money.”

Charlie laughed quietly. “Oh god, I know.”

Dean chuckled too, but there was something sobering about the though of Kevin and Eileen talking. Not to mention Charlie sitting in front of him. He took a sip of his coffee to try to hide the frown on his face from her. She noticed anyway.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Dean. He looked away from her, but when he glanced back, she was still watching him. He sighed. “Sometimes it’s just too good to be true.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“It’s just moments like this, with everyone back from the dead, that make me feel the most like something isn’t right; none of this should exist. And then I’ll be stuck wondering, y’know, where are we really? Are we in heaven? Are we dead?”

“You know we’re not, Dean.”

“Then what are we?”

“We’re safe,” said Cas. Dean hadn’t even heard him come in. Cas brushed by him as he sat in the chair next to Dean, continuing to move as quietly and smoothly as a ghost.

A sudden flash behind Dean’s eyes showed Cas lying open eyes in a hospital bed. He pushed it away, but the image was quickly replaced by one of Sam and Eileen getting in a crash on their roadtrip, followed by Charlie getting killed in a mugging.

“Safe. What does that even mean?” Dean asked mockingly, feeling his chest tighten. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wipe his mind blank, and upon opening his eyes again, he saw Cas and Charlie, alive, staring up at him, their faces deeply concerned. He hadn’t even noticed himself stand up. Shifting his feet uncomfortably, he muttered, “Someone could still get in a car accident or something stupid.”

“I dream of a death so normal,” Cas answered simply.

“Dean, what you’re talking about is a chance in a million, when hunting has directly put your life at risk so many times. Why is this life so much worse?”

“Because life is about putting yourself out on the line to do something right! If I’m gonna die anyway…” Dean stopped and took a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter and more subdued. “I can’t lie and say I’ve never dreamed of this life. I’ve just wished so many times for it all to end that I’d come to terms with the fact that it wouldn’t. Not until I die, and not even past that.”

“But now it has,” said Cas. “It has ended, and you have nothing more to worry about than how to spend the rest of your life with your friends. With me.”

“I can’t possibly deserve this.”

“Yes, you can. You do,” Cas insisted. “All this atonement through hunting was forcing you further and further away from paradise and from believing you deserve to be here.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that people are dying back in the real world.”

“This is the real world,” Cas said firmly.

“There are millions of real worlds,” Charlie added. “Jack is like the multiverse theory personified.”

“Which sounds to me like he’s another monster we should gank.”

“I was probably a monster you should’ve ‘ganked’ when we first met. But you didn’t.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t try.”

“No, but it was for the better…” Cas stared hard at Dean, then looked down, as if he was closing himself off. “Wasn’t it?”

A twang of pain echoed through Dean’s chest. “Of course, Cas.” He sat back down in his chair and pulled Cas’ hands into one of his own. Cas tilted his head up to look at Dean as he wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, letting his fingers ruffle through Cas’ already messy hair.

“I’d go back and punch old me in the face for trying to kill you,” Dean said. A smile flickered on Cas’ face. “But that doesn’t mean that Jack is going to be like you.”

“He’s only done good things so far. He’s done everything he promised.”

“I know,” Dean admitted. “I still don’t think I can trust him.”

“Then trust me,” said Cas, an earnest look in his eye.

Dean gritted his teeth, but then he nodded and closed the last of the distance between them. Cas leaned into the kiss and broke one of his hands free from Dean to reach up to his cheek.

“Ugh, if you two are gonna start being grossly cute, I guess my time here is up.” Charlie rose from her chair, closing her laptop and gathering her stuff up in her arms. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“Sorry, Charlie.” Dean pulled away from Cas to look up at her. “And, uh, thanks.”

She smiled and walked around the table to put her hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, Dean.”

“I know.”

“Goodnight, Charlie,” said Cas, lifting his head up tiredly.

She giggled to herself. “Goodmorning, bitches.”

After Dean watched her leave, he turned back around and buried his nose in Cas’ hair. He let his eyes fall shut. It was a good feeling, he couldn’t deny, to have no obligations and no reason not stay up with Cas and sleep through tomorrow instead. Nothing to hunt the next day, nothing to worry about hurting Cas, or Sam, or Eileen, or Charlie, or Kevin, or anyone really. At least nothing that only they knew about and could stop.

“This is it, isn’t it? No monsters, no demons, no angels, nothing.” Dean sighed and leaned back, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. “It’d be nice to know what was happening back there though. I wish I could… I dunno, summon Crowley or something.”

“But Jack put the fragments of his human soul back into his vess-”

“Yeah, I know. And you can bet he’s over there causing trouble.”

“But it’s not our problem anymore.”

As those words echoed throughout the kitchen, something lifted from Dean’s shoulders, and for once he didn’t feel like he was holding the entire world anymore. “It’s not our problem anymore,” he repeated.

Despite the coffee, Dean was sure he’d finally be able to sleep again. He stood up, pulling Cas with him, and lead the two of them back to their shared room. He let go of Cas only to take off his dressing gown and crawl into the other side of the bed. Once there, he immediately scooched over to the middle and pulled Cas into his arms, hugging him tightly, and placing kisses all along Cas’ brow. Cas moved his head to fit in the crook of Dean’s neck and judging by his warm breath, promptly fell asleep. Dean too shut his eyes and found himself slowly drifting away into the dark night.

But a blazing flash tore his eyes open. He looked around, blinking, feeling a cool breeze that could only come from a lake at night. His knees were sunk into the mud; he was no longer lying down, and Cas was no longer warm in his arms. Breath caught in Dean’s throat as he looked down at Cas who was instead crumpled on the ground, ashen wings staining the muddy ground. The warmth of Dean’s vision slowly left him, and he let out a strangled cry.

A foreign hand gripped his shoulder, and Dean turn to look at the stranger leaning over him. It was a man, completely naked, with yellow hair that dripped from his head and yellow eyes that blazed from their sockets. His skin glowed, gaunt and pale in the moonlight, and his voice was an urgent whisper:

“Did you see it, Dean? All that I can do for you.” Every fiber of the man was humming. “Did you see paradise?”

[seigyokus]

1.5 - Trouble

Idolish Seven - Part 3, Chapter 1.5 For more Part 3 translations, click here!

Translation below the cut!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You're pretty used to these sorts of parties, Sougo-kun. Nothing less from FSC's hei-- Osaka Sougo: Ah....... Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: He-- hey, I kinda wanna eat meat! ......Sorry, that was supposed to be a secret, wasn't it. Osaka Sougo: Oh no, I'm the one who should be apologizing, if anything. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You know, I've given it some thought since then. Why don't you try talking it out with your family again? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Nobody's happy when they're at odds with their family. Right now, I've got connections to FSC through TRIGGER's TV show. (1) Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: If you want, I could try to mediate the situation, to the best of my ability. How about it? Osaka Sougo: ....... Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: It'll be okay. There's no way a parent could ever hate their child, Sougo-kun. Osaka Sougo: ......You must've been raised in a warm and loving family, Tsunashi-san. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Sougo-kun...? Osaka Sougo: Thank you for offering, but I'm afraid I must refuse. Please don't mind me. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: But-- Osaka Sougo: There is no need to worry. Thank you for your concern. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ....... Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: ......Got it. I'm sorry I butted in like that when I don't know anything about your situation. Osaka Sougo: Not at all....... I apologize.

Yaotome Gaku: Tsumugi. Where are the other guys? Takanashi Tsumugi: Gaku-san. I'm just on standby here, since they've all got good conversations going with other people. Yaotome Gaku: I see. So, how have you been? You've been preparing for their first anniversary tour on top of your usual work, right? It must be a handful. Takanashi Tsumugi: Indeed, it is. But it's their anniversary tour! Everybody at the agency is just bursting with energy! Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha. So that's how it is. I'll make some time and drop by, one of these days. Takanashi Tsumugi: Thank you very much! We'll welcome you with open arms. I'm sure everyone will be delighted! Yaotome Gaku: Yeah. Woman: Good evening, Yaotome-kun. You two sure are getting along swimmingly. Are you perhaps Yaotome-kun's cute little date for tonight? Yaotome Gaku: Oh.... No, it's not like that. Takanashi Tsumugi: Nice to meet you, I'm Takanashi Tsumugi from Takanashi Productions. I work as IDOLiSH7's manager. Woman: Oh my, IDOLiSH7's manager. It's nice to meet you too. You know, everybody was just so surprised that Yaotome-kun was grinning so much-- he's usually quite surly. Yaotome Gaku: Haha, I get that a lot. I don't look that displeased, do I? Woman: You do, you definitely do. You're just like an open book, Yaotome-kun. It shows on your face. Yaotome Gaku: Man, that's harsh.... Well, I'll see you later, Takanashi-san. Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes! Thank you very much. Keep up the good work! Yaotome Gaku: Yeah. Yaotome Gaku: .......

Izumi Iori: What's the matter, Nanase-san. You're blankly staring at the venue. Nanase Riku: I just thought it was amazing.... There's so many people who work in our world. Nanase Riku: These people are just like us and have dreamed about living in the world of music. They've been here for decades, if not more, and there'll only be more and more people as time goes on. Nanase Riku: Each and every one of them is like a star, brilliantly shining. They come and go, flowing like the Milky Way, and eventually become part of history. Nanase Riku: Zero, and us too. We're all in the midst of that great passage. ......As are Kujou and Sakura Haruki....... Izumi Iori: Indeed....... Izumi Iori: Speaking of which, we are only one year in. We need to focus and get ourselves together, lest we vanish like sea foam. (2) Nanase Riku: You're right! We still haven't settled the score with TRIGGER. We'll also be facing challengers at Black or White this year. Nanase Riku: I hope we'll be a group that the challengers won't be ashamed to face-- just like how TRIGGER was to us last year. Izumi Iori: If we are aiming to fight TRIGGER and Re:vale, then the MOP is the perfect time to do so. Nanase Riku: MOP? Ah, it's the thing that decides which idol got the most support this year, right? (3) Izumi Iori: It will be a race to collect awards like the JIMA and Diamond Disk. Izumi Iori: Last year, it was a showdown between Re:vale and TRIGGER, and Re:vale ended up winning. TRIGGER intends on winning this year, without a doubt. Nanase Riku: And we'll be butting into that fight! Sounds interesting! Izumi Iori: Haha, how reliable. Ah....... Nii-san, Rokuya-san, where are you going? Izumi Mitsuki: We were gonna go to the bathroom, but I figured we could also look for Yamato while we're at it. That dude might be holding on to him still. Rokuya Nagi: Please go, Mitsuki. I would love to rendezvous with all of the ladies dressed up tonight-- Izumi Mitsuki: I'm doing it to get you away from the venue too! You're getting way too into this! Right after you've come back from Northmare, too! Rokuya Nagi: OH......! Izumi Mitsuki: Later guys! If they bring out dessert, grab some for me okay? Nanase Riku: Gotcha!

Izumi Mitsuki: Stop flirting around! We're idols, in case you didn't remember. Rokuya Nagi: No, no! Bestowing words of praise to women is but a part of a gentleman’s manners. Izumi Mitsuki: You could say that again. Ah, there he is! Yamato-san-- Man in a Suit: Ahaha.... I've heard a lot about your work. It truly does runs in the family. Nikaidou Yamato: ......Thank you very much. Izumi Mitsuki: 'Runs in the family?' Maybe he knows somebody in Yamato-san's family? Yamato-san doesn't like talking about them, so maybe we should stay outta their way....... Rokuya Nagi: Hm...... I want to know. I'll give that man my business card and get closer to him. Izumi Mitsuki: H-hey! Hold up, Nagi......! Man in a Suit: What was it, IDOLiSH7? It looks like things are going quite well with them. That's very fortunate, especially in times like these. Man in a Suit: Say, Yamato-kun. You're finally making it big. It'd be awful to cause trouble now, especially when things are going smoothly and without any problems. Don't you think so too? Nikaidou Yamato: Haha.... Don't worry. I don't have any intentions of exposing that right now. Nikaidou Yamato: Not Chiba Salon. Izumi Mitsuki: ...'Chiba Salon'......? Rokuya Nagi: ....... Man in a Suit: ......That's a relief. I remember you telling me, when I first invited you to the entertainment industry.... Man in a Suit: That if you did enter showbiz, you'd only be doing it to get famous and grab everyone's attention-- so you could expose the secrets of Chiba Salon. Man in a Suit: You know, I was shocked to hear that you debuted as an idol, but I'm glad you weren't serious about going through with that. This is the best course of action for you, and for your friends. Nikaidou Yamato: ....... Man in a Suit: I'll be going now. Please give your father my regards. Nikaidou Yamato: Hmph. I haven't even seen his face. If you'll excuse me.... Nikaidou Yamato: ......! Izumi Mitsuki・Rokuya Nagi: ....... Nikaidou Yamato: ...You guys.......

Kujou Ten: ....... ???: Kujou Ten. Kujou Ten: ......Who are you? ???: My, my. This is my first time seeing the real deal. Kujou Ten: ......Just who are you? And why are you standing in front of my house? I'm going to call the police. ???: Hehe....... ???: Kujou's made someone like you into his son, and calls you 'perfect?' Kujou Ten: ....... ???: Let me tell you something. Something that's even better than my name. ???: Your life is pointless. Try as you may to dance, to win trophies-- but both the fans and the world are frivolous. ???: One day, you will be forgotten. All of the things you've ever given, all of the things you've ever shown, everything, everyone-- all of it will disappear, far beyond memory’s reach. ???: You will no longer be the person they wish to see, and your song will no longer be the music they want to hear. ???: After all, that's what happened to your younger brother. Right, Nanase Ten? Kujou Ten: .......

To be continued....

TL Notes/comments:

If you don’t already do this, I highly recommend tapping thru the game (or a video playthrough) of the chapter as you read to get the nuances behind each spoken line!! 

(1) The more literal would be: "It's really unfortunate that your family doesn't get along. " but I didn't really like how that sounded (kind of sarcastic? a little condescending? though that is kind of what's going on here, given the context of what happens in the later part of this conversation)

(2) "vanish like smoke" (also, "disappear like bubbles" LMAO) were my original tl's, but I wanted to keep that whole star/river/water metaphor going!!! It's fucking Beautiful. Riku waxes absolute poetry here, I Love It.

(3) phrasing was kinda confusing in orig? lmk if i mucked up this one! Slight note on the title, it means wind+waves and also strife. 'Strife' was the working title I used for a while then i actually translated the title drop line, and in context (波風を立てる) it means to cause trouble. yep!

haruka is fun to translate THOUGH there are like one or two sentences i am just not 100% satisfied w/ how i tl’d or any way i try to approach it so :| btwn every draft revision it has changed a little so yeah

BIG THANK U TO KURI AS USUAL 4 CATCHING MY WEIRDASS SENTENCES AND PROOFING!!!

As usual, if you see any mistakes/mistranslations/etc, please message me!

Thank you for reading!!

[frozenfauna]

A Reason to Stay

Warning: This fic is a far cry from my usual content! This is being crossposted from AO3, you can find the story here. IRL friends don’t read this please, lmao. Rating: M Warnings: Dubious Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, Mild Injuries Ren said he’d take care of you forever, and he intends to keep his promise.

Lay your hands on me (Like you did a hundred times before) Is this what you need from me?

___________________________________________________________ Your hands found purchase on his back, his claws digging into your sensitive skin as you grabbed on. You felt the familiar sensation of blood trickling down your arm, and almost thought nothing of it. It was a feeling you had become acquainted with well the past few months. His mouth was suddenly next to your ear, his loud pants sending a chill down your spine. “I’m almost done, it’ll be okay. Just a little… longer…” He whispered, his voice sounding more menacing than soothing. When you had met Ren at the bar that night, everything about him seemed soothing. His soft demeanor and cheery expression compared to him, well, it made Ren seem that much better. You had tried to make them laugh by taking his drink, but it had ended up being the biggest mistake of your life, next to stepping foot in the bar itself. You wondered occasionally what it would have been like to go with him, a man whose name you had erased from your memory. You couldn’t think about it anymore. Ren’s sudden shift on top of you pulled you back into reality. You automatically rolled your head to the side, exposing your neck when you felt Ren’s nails digging into your skin even harder, and braced yourself for the end. You felt him move on top of you again, his mouth on your neck and fangs in your skin. A moan escaped from your lips, but you weren’t sure whether it was from pleasure or pain. Dizziness washed over you as the teeth in your neck sank in even further. Just as quickly as it started, it was over. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ren said, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. His mouth was covered in blood, your blood, and nausea washed over you. You had been through this before, but something about this time was different. You felt Ren’s body lift from yours, and suddenly felt a sense of yearning. His weight was comforting. You heard him mutter something about getting dressed and getting you cleaned off, and heard him leave the room. You were just thankful this hadn’t taken place in the basement.

The tapping on his feet on the floor alerted you to Ren’s presence as he came back in, carrying a fluffy robe with your shock collar placed on top. He almost looked sympathetic, but you knew he wasn’t. Not really. Your eyes drifted over to the shock collar as he placed the items on the bed. It wasn’t often you got to take it off, but occasionally Ren would let you. He knew you wouldn’t leave, and so did you. Your eyes shifted back over to Ren as you watched him fish his phone out of his hoodie. “You look so good… I need to take a picture of this!” He said, lining the camera up. You didn’t bother trying to adjust. You heard several snaps go off before he lowered his phone, his fingernail tapping against the screen as he swiped through them quickly. You felt the nausea roll through your stomach again at his satisfied expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll block out your face when I post these.” You nodded weakly. He often took pictures of you and the mess he left on you. Your skin was always covered in bruises, though it had far less scars than Ren’s had. He always seemed hesitant to do permanent damage, as if you just being here was enough. The heart he carved in your chest served as a reminder of what he could do, though. You finally sat up, though you still felt a spinning sensation in your head. Ren walked towards you again, and reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? I’ll start the bath for you!” He smiled that infectious grin at you, irresistible and menacing all at once. You could have swore you saw him hop once he thought you couldn’t see him anymore. You glanced down at the white sheets, now covered in blood. The contrast was striking. If it hadn’t been your blood, or blood at all, you might have thought it looked beautiful. You figured you shouldn’t keep Ren waiting for long. You grabbed the robe and the collar on your way out, although the thought of throwing the collar out the window crossed your mind for a brief second.

You got the faintest whiff of cherry blossoms as you walked down the hall towards the bathroom, the smell becoming more pronounced the closer you got. Once you finally got in the bathroom, you noticed the tub was almost overflowing with bubbles. There were even a few candles set up around the bathroom. He must have started it when he went to get the bathrobe in the first place. The room could have been picture perfect for a relaxing spa day, but you were quickly snapped out of that thought as you looked at the shock collar in your arms. You quickly placed it on the counter. Ren’s tail was still swishing back and forth, and he beckoned you forward from the edge of the tub. You stepped forward and tentatively put a toe inside the water, testing the temperature. Somehow he had gotten it just right, usually you ended up with scalding hot water if Ren started the bath. Though, you wondered if he did it on purpose. You lowered yourself in the water, your injuries sending a jolt of pain through your body. They weren’t that bad, you thought. He’d done worse. Mostly on the first day you were here. Other than the slight sting against your cuts, the water was comforting and the light floral smell made you feel at ease. The tub was rounded, leaving Ren enough room to sit on the edge and move around. You noted he was wearing a thin pair of boxer briefs, but nothing else. You found yourself staring at his scars often.

Ren had once told you that he wasn’t going to be like him, the man you had seen in the basement. (The very dead man in the basement.) Ren had shown you his videos, the screams of the unlucky victims pictured haunting your nightmares. Though Ren said he wasn’t going to be like him, you knew what he did to make money. It was unspoken, but you knew. After what Ren had made you do to him, he never involved you. At least, not yet. You shuddered at the thought.

Ren’s hands were suddenly on your shoulders, his hands gently brushing over the bruises he had left earlier. You scooted back towards him, resting your back on his legs that were submerged in the water. You felt him reach for something besides him, and then felt warm water on your neck. Your eyes closed as he worked until your hair was wet enough to wash, his extra careful movements as to not snag your hair making your heart jump. This creature, whatever Ren was, had your heart. You knew if you tried to leave, he would literally have it. He had told you as much once. Ren was softly humming something as he washed your hair. It was almost endearing.

“I really love you…” He said softly, his hands still trailing through your hair. “I’m so glad you’re mine.” Mine. Your hands clenched under the water, a deep sigh leaving you. He took that as a positive response, and didn’t press for an answer like he usually did. You knew all too well the consequences of not returning affection to him, or returning it the wrong way. He had settled down from the first few months you had been here, but the edge of possessiveness in his statements never left. At times like these, when he outright stated you belonged to him, it was hard to respond.

You started to drift off as he continued to work. The first few weeks you had been here had been like a testing period for Ren. First he was gentle, but was quick to anger when you showed fear. As the weeks went on, and you realized you weren’t leaving anytime soon, things began to almost look normal. Ren began to trust you, and in turn, you opened up to him. You and Ren had a lot in common, minus the murderous tendencies. His quirks were quick to make you laugh, like the countless holes he left in the backyard from digging. You felt a smile cross your face as you thought of watching him out the window while he jumped around in the snow one winter evening.

Ren’s hands left your hair and snapped you out of your dozing state, and you felt him move behind you again. His hands were quickly at your shoulders again, urging you to stand up. You noticed a wash cloth in his hand. He began to move it over you, the suds leaving trails on your body and temporarily covering your cuts. Ren was so gentle, placing a kiss on the back of your neck as he worked. He had really meant it when he promised to take care of you. You winced as he wiped over a particularly deep cut from earlier, the thought of being taken care of quickly vanishing.

He finished washing you quickly and you sat back down, letting the bubbly water wash away the soap. There was the slightest tinge of red in the water now, and you leaned forward to drain the tub. You wanted to get out as fast as possible. Ren grabbed a towel from nearby and handed it to you, grabbing one for himself in the process. You moved slowly, dreading having to put the collar back on. Ren caught you looking at it out of the corner of the eye, and tutted. “I know, you don’t wanna put the collar back on… but it’s for your own safety.” He smiled, but his eyes didn’t. You handed him your wet towel and stepped out, your hands moving to to tie your hair up. The cold air on your neck made you feel a deep sense of longing. For what, you weren’t sure. You glanced in the mirror, noticing that Ren had really done a number on your neck. It was covered in bruises and bite marks, one mark particularly deep. The rest of you wasn’t in much better shape. Not only had Ren cut up your arm with his nails, but your body was covered in deep bruises from the pressure he put on you. Bite marks littered your thighs. The only untouched part on your body was your face, if you didn’t count the deep circles from lack of sleep. “So beautiful.” Ren mused from behind you, your eyes catching his in the mirror. If anything, at least he was complimentary. He stepped towards the counter and grabbed the collar, opening it back up. You stepped forward and turned your gaze up so you didn’t have to watch. He slipped the cold metal around your neck, placing one last kiss on your throat before snapping it shut. The weight was almost comforting, just as his weight had been earlier. You slipped into the robe he had set out and made your way to the living room, nestling yourself in your favorite corner. Ren must have followed closely behind, as he sat on the couch soon after you did, laying his head in your lap. You reached down to pat his head, a gesture that almost felt automatic at this point. Your finger played with the soft fur on his ears absent-mindedly. He fell asleep like this more often than not, his tail wrapped around himself. He looked up at you, his contentment hard to hide. “I love you so much! I know I already said it… but I just do. Please don’t ever leave me.” You almost wanted to laugh at his words. Like you could leave. You didn’t even have the option. But at the same time, you found yourself unable to entertain the thought. You loved him too, in whatever way you could. You put your hand on the side of his face, cupping it. “I won’t, I promise. I love you, Ren.” His tail started swishing again at your words, and he sat up to wrap his arms around you. His face nuzzled against your neck as he started to pepper light kisses against the bruises there. He was going to take care of you. Forever.

[eureka-its-zico]

Photograph

Anonymous Requested: omg as soon as I read “We don’t know each other. We’re just two people being grumpy about Valentine’s Day and made a deal to spend the day together.” I imagined with Zico, I think it fits him lmao. Would you please write it? Thanks, you're the best <3 Part of my Valentine’s Day prompt series.

Genre: Zico x Reader

Words: 2531

You knew you should’ve left the minute you’d seen the hostess put them at a table. Instead, you’d stayed in your corner booth and watched the way they lovingly stared at one another. The way his hand reached out to grab hers like she was something precious. Their smiles seemed endless as they chatted with words you couldn’t hear and tried to drown out your broken heart with swigs of your rum and coke.

How bittersweet it was indeed to run into your ex-boyfriend on Valentine’s Day with the girl he’d left you for. The same exact girl he’d replaced you with before actually excusing himself from your relationship. No, you weren’t still bitter at all.

You flagged down a waitress to get you another drink when a man slid into the other side of the booth. He was greeted with wide eyes and raised brows, but didn’t appear to notice. His hands folding on top of the table as eyes you could only classify as tiger-shaped stared back at you. It was silly to think, but it felt like he could see right through you. The thought making your own arms retract closer to your chest while still holding onto your glass. Just in case you needed something to launch in his direction for a quick escape.

“You know, it only makes you look creepier sitting alone and staring.”

His words hit home just a little too soon. It earned him a glare that he easily seem to ignore.

“Excuse you. I don’t even know who the hell you are.”

He pointed his thumb behind him without bothering to actually check if it landed on the right table. He probably didn’t care to begin with.

“That guy must be an ex of some sort. The girl he’s with is also my ex-girlfriend, and the name is Zico.”

Zico’s admission left you feeling like you were back to square one: looking shocked and unable to formulate an actual sentence. Your eyes skimmed past him to look at the accused couple leaning in to share secrets, as if the rest of the restaurant was trying to listen. Your eyes moved back to Zico and quickly took him in.

He wasn’t unattractive in the slightest. The hair that peeked out from under a snapback the color of midnight, his cheekbones high and kept his face looking masculine, without looking too feminine with his incredibly full lips. His shoulders were broad underneath his sweater and you wondered if he was as tall as he looked.

“Really?”

“No, not really,” Zico replied. “I just said that in hopes it would make you feel better.”

A tsk popped from your lips as your glare returned. Your hands dropped from your empty glass down to the booth just to keep you from reaching inside of it to throw an ice cube at him.

“That is literally the worst way to try and comfort someone.”

“You may have a point -”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Zico acknowledged your name with a nod of his head in thanks before he continued. “How about I show you a better way to hate on ex’s and Valentine’s Day? It’s guaranteed to be way more comforting.”

You warily took him in as you thought over his offer. It seemed ridiculous that you were even considering it in the first place, but what else did you have to do? You’d come in to have a drink in peace only to have the universe decide it wasn’t done making sick jokes at your expense. Even if  Zico mugged you, it still had to be better than watching your ex be blissfully happy with someone else.

“I don’t know what you have planned, Zico, but you got yourself a deal.”

Zico clapped his hands in excitement and rubbed them together. The sound startling you to jump in your seat with your hand pressed to your chest like it was enough to calm your heart. A hand delved inside the pocket of his sweater to pull out his wallet. He fished out a couple bills, you knew were one too many, and threw them down on the table.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay for my stuff,” you huffed.

He dismissed your worries and got out of the booth coming to his full height. He was taller than you thought.

“Don’t worry about it. You can just buy the balloons.”

Zico didn’t wait for you to fully get out of the booth before he started walking towards the restaurant’s front door. Your question of, “What do you mean buy balloons?” chasing after his back as he walked away from you. You scrambled to grab your bag and get out to follow after him. A part of your brain reprimanding you for running like a madwoman after a complete stranger. You were so busy chasing after Zico you didn’t bother sparing a look at your ex one last time before you burst out of the restaurant, and into the cool February night.

He was already waiting for you; his mouth pressed between the crease in his clasped hands. Zico rubbed them together before he turned to look at you. His head nodding in a direction that his feet followed. You quickly ran up beside him until you were able to meet his pace.

“You never told me why I’m buying balloons.”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“And by get there do you mean a dark alley where you corner me, and steal my kidney to sell on the black market?”

When he turned to look at you, you worried for a brief moment if you’d offended him. The thought was chased away the minute his face brightened up with laughter. It held such a childlike quality to it you found yourself biting on your lower lip in a weak attempt to keep from smiling.  

“Don't you think I would've tried slipping something into your drink first? Carrying around screaming victims isn't the best way to go unnoticed,” he amended.

Zico’s words made your smile vanish within seconds, and you wondered if you still had that can of pepper spray inside your purse. He placed a soft hand on your shoulder, leaning in just enough to softly remind you: “I’m kidding.”

A nervous laugh left you as you tried to act like you knew that all along. The further you both walked the more you were able to understand his intended destination was the Ferris wheel centered in the middle of the city. It was surrounded by small booth’s that sold usual carnival like items, but on this day, were flooded with novelties centered around Valentine’s Day. One of those novelties being oversized heart balloons.

The closer you got to your destination the more you hated it. A line that stretched out towards the end of the street held nothing but couples waiting for their turn to get on the Ferris wheel. Most of them casually talking while holding hands, while others cuddled into each other. Some of them wearing head-to-toe matching outfits, as if everyone around them didn't already get from their frequent kissing that they were a couple.

The two of you stopped at a stand that was placed in the middle of all the action. Your attention too focused on all the things you didn't want to see, and not paying attention when Zico asked for two large heart balloons. His elbow nudging your shoulder brought your attention forward in a startled turn of your head. He tipped his head in the direction of the vendor.

“Remember, you buy the balloons.”

You gave him a less than amused stare before you reached inside your purse to pull out some money. The lady handed Zico the balloons while you waited for change, and could already feel yourself inwardly grumbling at somehow being suckered into buying something so stupid.

You followed him to the opposite side of the street to get away from the large crowd. Zico handed you one of the balloons and waited patiently for you to take it, before both his hands took hold of the actual balloon. His fingers pinched the end of the heart and brought it up to his mouth. The sound of his teeth tearing a hole in it moments later making you stare at him in disbelief.

“These weren't cheap, you know.”

Zico’s eyes rolled as he replied, “Don't focus on the negative of this exercise.”

“Exercise?”

“Yes! Now, just listen and stop talking okay? We’re going to puncture a small hole on the bottom of the balloon. You’ll suck in some helium and state what you hate about the holiday or an ex. Doesn't matter.”

Zico brought his balloon up to his lips, his index and thumb no longer pinching the hole closed, and wrapped his lips around it. He took a long pull from the balloon and lifted his head up.

“I think it's stupid floral companies increase the price on flowers during the month of February.”

He sounded like if someone had held a chipmunk’s nose closed as they talked. The sound alone making you burst into laughter and a bright smile curled his lips.

“Okay, I can admit it's funny. I don't see how this is supposed to be comforting?”

“Because whatever you're holding onto is only going to damage you. Once you speak it out loud only then can you begin to heal.”

“Okay, Gandhi. Thanks for those words of wisdom,” you snorted.

“Just try it.”

His hand pushed your balloon up towards your face you moved to smack it away.

“Alright I’m going!”

You brought the balloon to your mouth and let a part of the plastic slip between your teeth. Your eyes trained on Zico as you bite into until you felt the air burst into your mouth.

“I'm equal parts terrified and turned on right now.”

Zico’s blurted words left you pushing out what helium had entered your mouth in laughter. The sound a high pitched chipmunk that left him laughing along with you.

“Can we be serious, please?” You felt like you sounded like Ezma off of The Emperor’s New Groove. “I hate that they waste thousands of trees for stupid cards filled with sentiments you should always tell your significant other.”

Zico inhaled his next puff, and you were curious what his next one would be.

“I hate that most women believe you should shower them with gifts and presents on this one day or it means you don't love them.”

You both went back and forth like this: stating things you couldn't stand about the month and it's ridiculous date. It was actually making you feel better, until your next truth hit a little too close to home.

“I hate that he left without giving me my right to say goodbye.”

The laughter of jokes that you’d built between the two of you seemed to come to a screeching halt. You had a feeling the fun in something innocent would soon hit the barrier you’d placed up to protect yourself. It’d already been months, but the wound festered with each late night thought that picked over the scab. It never got the chance to heal because how could you? When he’d stolen your chance of asking why or coming to terms with it. He’d broken up with you by text, while you were at work, informing you that your relationship was over. When you got home all his things were gone from inside the apartment, and it seemed to be lifeless without him.

Zico was clearly concerned and you hated yourself for expressing something so vulnerable about yourself to a complete stranger. He moved to stand beside you and placed a gentle hand on your back. The tenderness behind the touch threatened to make you burst at any second, but thankfully Zico got you laughing around your tears.

“Do you want some ice cream? My treat. It does go straight to my thighs, but I'm willing to take one for the team.”

You playfully shoved him before he pulled you in for a hug; his arms enveloping around you. You felt so safe that you didn't stop yourself from hugging him back, and hoped he could feel how grateful you were for him being a kind stranger.

The both of you went and got cotton candy instead, and shared it between you. You talked about whatever popped into your heads and realized when it was close to midnight you hadn't had this much fun in months. Everything with Zico felt easy and light; like you’d known each other for years.

You were getting ready to say goodbye when he noticed a photo booth. His hand instantly tucking under your arm to pull you with him.

“I look horrible and you want to take photos?”

“For the memories! And you look gorgeous.”

Zico’s last statement left your cheeks burning. You  tried to hide it the best you could as you sat down beside him in the booth. He put in the necessary money and used his reflection to start fixing himself.

“Seriously?” You snickered.

“I gotta look my best so when you look at these you think, ‘Oh I was so blessed this handsome stranger found me’.”

“Ya! You're so full of yourself!”

“Shh,” he hushed his arm scooping up behind your shoulders. “It's picture time.”

You watched as his chubby cheeks pressed up into the perfect ball shape. Right when the woman’s voice called the last number you reached out and pinched them. Zico was only shocked for a second before he joined in. His hands lifting up your hair in crazy directions and the both of you tried to make funny faces through the laughter.

When the last photo was taken you stepped out of the booth and grabbed the two sets of stripes. Each photo making you smile so hard you thought your cheeks would split.

“One of those is mine, you know,” Zico mused.

You rolled your eyes before you handed him one. Your eyes drifting back down to the four sectioned photos and the happiness you found in each one. You thought you’d found your favorite, you and Zico using a piece of your hair as a mustache, when he yanked it out of your hands.

“Hey!”

“You don't want that one,” he stated, his hands holding out the one you’d given him. “This one is way better.”

“What’s better about it?”

“Check the back!”

You did as he asked and saw he’d written a small message with his phone number underneath. You looked up to ask him about it, but he was already walking through the crowd.

“It was fun hating on this holiday with you. I'm willing to make myself available for all major holidays for you. Zico <3.”

[5hfanfiction]

our broken white rose (4/?) ⇾ camren

a/n: hey guys, i’m really sorry for not updating as quickly. idk if y'all wanna know about my life story but since some of you guys messaged me today and two days ago, heres whats been going on. i briefly explained to those of you who asked but in case you’re interested in knowing more, keep reading this lil authors note or just skip ahead to the story if you genuinely don’t give a fuck. lmao.

for a few months now, my fiancée and i have been trying to get pregnant. by her and i, i mean her, lol. she’s a bit older than me (over 21) but i’m 20. anyways, we’ve been pushing really hard for a baby because something we’ve been talking about since the early stages of our relationship is starting a family and having kids. but you know, clearly as two females, we can’t reproduce together. so recently we’ve been doing lots of research and looking for a sperm donor from a sperm bank.

she’ll be the one carrying because i am not of age and quite frankly me and pain do not mix therefore child birth and i do not like each other, lmao. but since she’ll be the one carrying, shes been really adamant on finding a donor who looks like me. i don’t really care to be honest, just the thought of someone i love bringing in beautiful new life to be apart of our own warms my heart but you know, she really cares about that. now my fiancée is biracial and i am brazilian.

honestly speaking from what we’ve seen, the closest donor we’ve seen that looks like me is a white man. and theres nothing wrong with that. i mean, its really hard to come across a brazilian man who’s willing to give his sperm away to help make babies who’d have my features. pale ass skin, blue ass eyes and dark ass hair. and honestly we’ve been fighting a lot because of that one thing. all i care about is finally getting to start my family with the woman of my fucking dreams and thats basically being put on hiatus because she wants someone who looks like me and exactly me. and i can get why she really wants that and all, but eh… whatever.

i just thought i’d share my reason for not writing. shes having several exams and back to back doctors appointments, all which i attend, then on top of that looking for donors that she approves of, getting school work done because i’m still a student but she’s not. baby girl is on her way to being a teacher but thats basically all. i’ve literally only had time to read on my phone because i’d be too exhausted to pick up my laptop and start writing.

i really hope things speed up soon because this process is already proving to be extremely tiring but as long as i get to create a family with her and live out our forever lives, i’m all in it. pun intended.

***

***

“We are live here on Express News Daily with former fifth harmony member, singer, dancer and model, Normani Kordei,” Dianna McGee introduced as the audience roared in a fit of cheers. Dianna faced the dark haired girl with a wide grin. “We’ve been trying for ages to get you here on this show. It’s truly an honor.”

Smiling bashfully, Normani shook her head. “No, it’s my pleasure. When my team told me I’d be coming on here today just a few weeks ago, I nearly lost my shit. Excuse my language,” she laughed.

Dianna threw her head back and let out an obnoxiously loud but contagious laugh. “So tell us where you’ve been lately Normani. I’m sure fans are curious to know what’s to come soon.”

Getting giddy, an adorable smile took over Normani’s face as she edged further off her seat. “Well, I’m working on a new album with my literal idol, Beyoncé,” she shared. The audience erupted in cheers and claps as everyone congratulated her. “I have to pinch myself every morning to make sure it’s not some big crazy dream I’ll just wake up from. I’ve looked up to her since way before I came into the industry and to know that I’ll be working on a whole album with her is just… insane. I’m at a loss for words.”

Her cheeks were slightly hurting from how hard she was smiling, but she couldn’t help it. She was so excited to finally share the news with the public. As the interview went on, Dianna somehow brought the topic of gay rights into the mix questioning Normani’s thoughts on it and bringing up former bandmate, Lauren Jauregui.

“So Normani, it’s been pretty evident that you’re extremely active in the LGBT community,” she started, Normani nodding along as the audience clapped. “A while back while you were in the hit girl group - Fifth Harmony - you had one of your band members come out as bisexual then a few years later announce that she’d finally found herself and was simply hiding behind that label to feel less odd toward society, eventually coming on out and saying she was a lesbian.”

Normani nodded, swallowing harshly at the mention of Lauren. Someone she hasn’t spoken to in quite awhile but still found it in her to smile nonetheless. “Yes, Lauren. I think she was really the one to like, you know wake us all up about gay rights and LGBT rights as a whole while in Fifth Harmony. I always grew up knowing that it was nobody’s place but God’s to judge and I always stuck by that. If you love a woman and you’re a woman, that’s amazing. God made you who you are for a reason, you know? If you were a man who loves another man, that’s amazing too. If you were born male but really are female, phenomenal,” Dianna gave Normani her full attention along with the audience as everyone stopped and listened.

“I think it’s not so much as being who you are but embracing it. There are so many people who have a hard time embracing who they are, Lauren having being one of them. We found out as a group of her interest in females the same time the public did and while it wasn’t all that much of a shock,” the audience laughed. “I guess it kind of was actually. There’s always that first initial shock to something you feel that you’ve always known but never knew that’d you’d be spot on. You know what I mean?” Pausing, Normani sighed. “We still knew that she needed our full on support and that’s exactly what most of us gave her right off the bat.

“As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to stand more and more firmly by my belief of gay people are born into and belong to every society in the world. They’re literally all ages, races, faiths, etc. They’re doctors, teachers, farmers and bankers, soldiers and athletes. They’re everywhere. And whether we know it, or whether we acknowledge it, they are our family, friends and neighbors. As much as people choose not to believe it, being gay isn’t some sort of western invention. It’s a human reality.

"I like to believe that our journey isn’t complete until our gay brothers and sisters are treated like anyone else under the law - because if we are truly equal, then we as a nation, as a society, as people, should understand that the love we commit to one another must be equal.

"And I’m sorry for the mouthful here but you guys, it literally takes no compromise to give people their rights… it takes no money to respect the individual. It takes no political deal to give people freedom. It takes no survey to remove repression. I think the best day in society will be when we no longer talk about being gay or straight. It’s not a gay wedding, it’s just a fucking wedding. It’s not a gay marriage, it’s a fucking marriage. Period.

"What people choose to do in their own homes is their business. And they can choose to love whoever they love. That’s their business, don’t make it your own. They aren’t personally affecting your everyday life, so why must you affect their own? What? Someone being different is too much of a threat to you? It’s really like… wow,” she let out a humorless chuckle.

“I mean, if anybody can find someone to love them and to help them through this difficult thing we call life, then I support that in any shape or form and so should you. There are people who’ve said that I’m being brave for being openly supportive of gay marriage, gay adoption, gay rights and LGBT rights as a whole… but with all due respect, I humbly dissent. I’m not being brave. I’m being a decent fucking human being. Love is a human experience, not a political statement and it’s sad so many individuals still don’t get that. At the end of the day, gay rights are human rights. There is no separation.”

Normani took a deep breath as everyone stayed silent for a moment before everyone in the audience stood to their feet, clapping and cheering, Dianna joining. She smiled. Before Dianna could speak she said one last thing, “And I’m glad to be someone apart of something as beautiful as the LGBT community. As my old closest friend once said, she was a bisexual Cuban-American and she was so damn proud of it. Well world, I’m a lesbian African-American and I am so fucking proud of it.”

***

“I did it,” she breathed as she wrapped her arms around the tall blonde. “I can’t believe I actually fucking did it.”

Dinah smiled down at her girlfriend, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. “I’m really proud of you baby girl…” she trailed off.

Normani backed away with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Dinah sighed, running a hand through her messy blonde waves. “I think Mila is in trouble… and I need your help finding Ally and Lauren.”

***

“Jauregui, you got some visitors!” Janelle yelled from outside the studio door. I frowned as I stood from my seat.

Walking out towards the main opening doors, I looked around but saw no one. Turning towards Janelle, I held my arms out in confusion. “Where?”

Pointing behind me, she raised both eyebrows. When I turned around, my heart sunk to my feet. What the hell? As I faced the three ladies before me that I haven’t seen in almost four years, a deep frown set itself on my lips.

“Hey Lauren…”

I stood in silence. Shaking my head and blinking a few times, I looked back up expecting to see a different set of people, thinking my eyes were simply fucking with me. When I came face to face with the same three faces, I felt the panic set in.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked in shock as my heartbeat sped up.

My former closest friend from the three stepped up, her dark eyes giving me a look of uncertainty as she glanced behind me towards Janelle and everyone else who happened to be around. “We have to talk to you privately,” she spoke lowly, reaching for my hand which I instantly moved away.

I shook my head as a disbelieving laugh fell from my lips, “What happened to "Lauren I think it’s best if we all stay away from you and the girls” huh?“ I found my voice raising and could feel the eyes of my co-workers on us.

"Lauren, please can we just talk to you where there isn’t so many people,” the shortest of the three pleaded. My eyes instantly softened when they met her own. She was probably the only one I could never go off on. She looked around before motioning for me to bend down. Furrowing my eyebrows in confusion, I bent down slightly. “It’s about Camila…” she whispered.

***

I shook my head, refusing to believe what I was reading. Fuck no. “Someone is fucking with us and I know exactly who it is,” I mumbled out as tears clouded my vision. How could Tori do such a thing?

Dinah looked at me with wide eyes. “Lauren nobody is messing with us. It’s Mila. She’s alive.”

I glared at her. “No the fuck she isn’t! I just worked with a client from Yakutat, Alaska. She was so fucking adamant about learning everything there is to my personal life. I told her all about the group, the girls and Camila’s death. She’s probably just a crazy old fan trying to fuck with my emotions.”

The room fell quiet before Ally spoke quietly. “Okay if that were true though, why would she contact Dinah? How would she even find Dinah’s number? Wouldn’t she just contact you?”

“Don’t you guys get it? Everyone has been fucking with us since she died. Remember when harmonizers use to send us random fucking letters to our P.O. BOX claiming to be Camila and saying she was in danger. They found her remains you guys… she’s dead. Okay? It’s impossible for a dead person to magically be alive.” I hated this. I hated feeling this way. Why would someone go out of their way to make me relieve my worst nightmare?

Normani spoke, “Lauren I get your hesitation but she gave us an address and everything. How would the fans know about Lola? They only know that she abused Camila and thinks that she got locked up years ago. Remember, her team covered up her death by saying she was in a plane crash.”

“Plus she called me Cheech,” Dinah added.

I shook my head. I wasn’t buying any of this. Why are they so quick to believe everything? Clearly nothing’s changed. “You guys should just go back to wherever you came from. Everyone knew you and Camila called each other Chancho and CheeChee. That’s a known Fifth Harmony fact and anyone who knew of our group would know that. And look at the big ass coincidence that she happens to be in Yakutat, Alaska. Same place that girl I just worked with is from. The city barely has 700 people so you can’t say it’s common. Within those 700 random individuals, are you seriously trying to convince me that Camila is somehow apart of that? Bullshit. I’m telling you, she’s just fucking with us. If Camila was alive, I would know,” I paused shaking my head as I thought back to Tori’s best friend, ‘Karla.’ “God, I’m so fucking stupid. She even made up a fake best friend named Karla.”

Everyone paused as they glanced at me. “The person you met said they had a best friend named Karla?” Ally asked. I nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. Ally, Normani and Dinah all shared a look before Ally walked over to me, her tiny arms wrapping around me. “I know you don’t want to get your hopes up by thinking that Camila just may be out there, in danger, needing our help,” she paused as she sighed. “But, I don’t think whoever that person was played you. Maybe… she knows Camila but doesn’t know that it’s your Camila?”

I scoffed. “I don’t know who’s supplying you guys your drugs, but you may wanna find someone else because you’re all fucking losing it. Camila. Is. Dead. And Tori Kelly is a pathological liar.”

***

After sending my former bandmates on their way, I pulled my phone out as the tears flooded my vision once again. This is why I don’t let people in.

Lauren - 12:42 PM: Are you happy? Proud of yourself? Does it make you feel better? Sleep at night peacefully?

Lauren - 12:43 PM: You know, I’m really not sure what’s more fucked up. The fact that I actually saw you as a possible friend or the fact that you were here for almost two weeks and pretended to not know that my dead wife was Camila Jauregui or mostly known as Camila Cabello.

Lauren - 12:43 PM: You’re a fucked up person. How the fuck do you do shit like that? Do you enjoy causing people pain?

Lauren - 12:44 PM: No wonder you wanted to get close to me. You’re fucking crazy. Just stay out of my life and stop giving my old bandmates hope that Camila may still be alive because she’s not, okay? You know that. I’m sure you’ve had your fun to toy around and fuck with peoples emotions but just fuck off now.

I went to hit the block button when my phone started to buzz, Tori’s name coming up on display. Hitting on ignore, I proceeded to attempt to block again but it started buzzing once again.

Letting out a huff of annoyance, I answered, holding the phone up to my ear. “What the fuck do you want? You already had your fun right? Fuck. Off.”

“Lauren, what are you talking about?” I laughed at her attempt to play dumb.

“Just give it up Tori! You had your fun. You got to me. You somehow got to my former bandmates as well, so please just–”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Lauren, I swear to God. You just randomly started blowing up my phone completely going batshit crazy on me. I haven’t done anything to you.”

I paused at the genuine confusion I heard in her voice before shaking my head. She wanted me to believe she knew nothing. She’s messing with me again. “Just stay out of my life.”

With that, I hung up.

***

Tori stared down at her phone. She was frozen. She didn’t know what to say and or do. She sat in her office chair for a few seconds, her brain not being able to process what had just happened in such a short time span. Snapping out of it, she immediately headed for messages on her phone.

Tori - 11:57 AM - i really don’t know what i did. can you please just explain and i’ll leave you alone, i swear. if you don’t wanna be friends anymore just let me know and i’ll go.

Staring down at her phone, she bit her bottom lip nervously. She could feel the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

Lauren - 11:59 AM: I’m blocking you.

Tori - 11:59 AM: wait no please

Tori - 11:59 AM: please tell me what’s happening

Tori - 12:00 PM: please

The three dots in the bubble that indicated Lauren was typing came and disappeared several times. Tori grew nervous as each minute passed by.

Lauren - 12:23 PM: You are really into this playing dumb shit, huh? In case you’ve forgotten your own actions, you not only fucked with me the entire time you were in California, but you had the fucking nerve to stalk on some Great Dane shit and find my former bandmates phone number telling her Camila was still alive. If you were a fucking fan of Fifth Harmony, you could have said something. For nearly two weeks, you pretended to befriend me, pretended that you knew nothing about my late wife. Did you know that all of my former bandmates that I haven’t seen in almost four years all flew out to Los Angeles because they were convinced there was a chance of Camila being alive. But we both know there’s not.

Lauren - 12:25 PM: Oh wow and you made up a best friend named Karla who coincidentally has the same first name as Camila, huh? Then you text Dinah on some unknown number telling her that you’re in Yakutat, Alaska in “danger” with Lola. You’re a fucking joke.

Lauren - 12:28 PM: I have only one question for you Victoria. Why? Why would you purposely make someone relieve the pain of someone who died? What if I played some fucked up prank on you telling you that your dad was still alive? Honestly just go to hell.

As Tori read the messages over and over, she tried to make sense of what was going on. Lauren’s words hurt her more than she wanted to admit. Her heart was slowly breaking as the harsh words sunk deeper and deeper. Thumbs trembling, she began typing, hoping and praying that she wasn’t blocked yet.

Tori - 12:37 PM: i’m very sorry for whatever’s currently happening lauren but i did not message your old bandmates and lead them to think your wife was still alive. i didn’t even know the name of the band you use to be in until these last messages. you never even told me your wife’s name

Tori - 12:39 PM: i can’t blame you for your suspicions. you’ve met the first person ever from yakutat, alaska and now someone is telling you that your dead wife is in danger there to my understanding of what you’ve said. but i didn’t make anything up. i really like you and i don’t want you to think that i’m messing with you because i swear and cross my heart, hope to die that i am not

Tori - 12:40 PM: karla is a real person. my best friend. i didn’t make her up. i wasn’t a fan of fifth harmony. i really didn’t even know what that was until again, you mentioned it. all you ever told me was that you were in a band with four other chicks and you spilt up in late 2016 and married one of them

Tori - 12:42: i’m really sorry for the misunderstanding and i get if you don’t wanna talk to me anymore. i’m sorry. i won’t bother you anymore

After sending her messages, she waited for a reply. An hour to be exact but it never came. Within the last hour of her awaiting Lauren’s reply, she read the messages over and over, crying softly to herself. She hated feeling like she was hurting someone. Her first time out of the state and she’s already made enemies with someone she really liked as a person.

Putting her phone down on her desk, she decided to call it a day. Packing up her belongings, she made her way over to her boss’s office and knocked on the glass door. She could already tell the light makeup she wore was smeared from her crying but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She just wanted to go home. Dustin Harrison, the on floor boss for the day at Tori’s workplace shut his laptop and smiled up at the curly headed blonde before frowning. “Hey Tor– what’s wrong?” He asked, cutting off his greeting.

Tori sighed to herself, shaking her head. “Nothing Dus. Can I please take the rest of the day off? I’m not feeling too well,” she mumbled.

Dustin nodded immediately, pulling out a slip of paper, signing it and handing it to Tori. “No problem darlin’. Just come in when you’re feeling better, okay?”

Times like these were when she was really thankful for the understanding staff at her workplace. Maybe she could visit Karla later and rant. That is if Lola’s head ass lets her.

***

“Tori, what’s the matter? You haven’t touched your food at all,” Laura asked with a sigh. She had dropped her fork onto her plate and set her glass of wine down as she gazed at her daughter who had been aimlessly staring off into space the last fifteen minutes.

Tori glanced at her mom before resuming her stare into space. “Nothing Ma, just not hungry.”

Tori could barely find any form of energy to engage in small talk with her mother since she got home from work a few hours ago. Lauren had still not replied only this time, read her message. She was pretty sure she was blocked by now. She just lost a friend over something she didn’t even do and to say it was affecting her would be an understatement.

Laura shook her head. “Now Victoria, is lying to me really a good idea?”

Sighing, she looked down as the first tear fell. “I messed up Ma,” she breathed out.

Laura gave her daughter a look of confusion. “How?”

She took a deep breath. “Do you remember when I went to Los Angeles to record that demo for Karla’s birthday?” She started. Laura nodded. “Well, I met this girl there. Her name is Lauren. Everything I ever recorded there, she helped me on. We became friends over the time I was there and we started to talk everyday. So much so that she got really worried when I didn’t text her back after I landed for a few hours because I forgot.

"When I was there, she told me some things about her. Like how she use to be in a group called Fifth Harmony with four other girls. In Fifth Harmony, she dated and ended up marrying and having two kids with one of the members after the group break up in 2016,” she paused, her heartbeat picking up its pace. “She also told me that in 2019, her wife died and she was left to raise a two and a one year old at the time on her own.

"Everything has really been a blur, but long story short, when I came back everything was good up until today. She texted me and she was pissed. She started accusing me of messing with her bandmates and her–”

“What? How?” Laura interrupted. Tori gave her mom a look and the raven haired woman put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry, continue.”

“Anyways like I was saying, she was accusing me of messing with her and her bandmates. Apparently someone texted one of her old bandmates telling them that Camila - her supposedly dead wife - was alive and in danger. This person posing as Camila apparently. She thinks it’s me now because the person said that she was in danger, here, in Yakutat, Alaska and she just met me and I’m from Yakutat, Alaska. She thinks I’m just some weird old fan who got close to her just to prank her like this.

"She said that’s why I was all up in her business. But Ma, I swear I didn’t do anything like that. I didn’t even know of Fifth Harmony until she started going off on me and I didn’t even know what her wife’s name was either up until she texted me those things. How could I just up and do something so elaborate when I just met her a week and a half ago? She barely told me anything about her personal life except for those things.

"Then she told me I faked having a best friend named Karla because her wife - Camila’s - first name is Karla. She just blamed everything on me, told me she was blocking me and to never talk to her again. I explained that it was a misunderstanding and that I haven’t done anything but she never replied and I don’t know what to do Ma. I really like her and she wants nothing to do with me. She probably thinks I’m some crazy bitch.”

When Tori finished, she wiped away the few tears of frustration that had fallen during her explanation. Laura stood up and extended her hand out to her daughter. Tori looked up at her mom in confusion. “What are you doing mom?”

“C'mon, lets go look up Fifth Harmony and see why this girl is so adamant about you messing with her.”

***

“I never met that girl, but by those messages, I doubt she did this Lauren,” Ally spoke as she took the glass of wine I had poured for her into her small hands.

Its been a few hours since my former bandmates decided to involve themselves into my life for the first time in years with their crazy assumptions that Camila may still be alive. I don’t care what they say, Camila’s dead. I saw her body parts. I saw the DNA results from the autopsy. I saw it all. She’s dead. And the sooner we all come to terms with that, the sooner they can move along and continue ignoring my daughters and I’d very existence.

I thought I had sent them on their way and they’d book a flight to return to where they needed to be, but they somehow found where I lived and invited themselves over. I just wanted them to leave before the new sitter arrived with the girls. After what happened with Lucy, I didn’t trust her around them for awhile.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “You guys, please. I cannot stress this enough. I’m tired of this. Camila’s gone. Alright? She’s dead. Please just drop this all. Tori is just a delusional former fan pulling a cruel prank.”

Dinah stood up from her place on my barstool, pacing back and forth. Suddenly stopping, the Polynesian stared at all of us with watery eyes. This was obviously affecting her way more than necessary. Dinah didn’t need to get her hopes up. If Camila was alive, I’m sure I would know. This was not the time to open up a can of emotions. Because once it opened, I wouldn’t be able to care for my daughters. Camila would have wanted me to stay strong for them and not fall into traps set up by sick people.

“What if it’s not a prank? Huh, Jauregui? What if your wife, the love of your life, the mother of your children is truly alive? What if you’re just so blinded by this wall of self protection you have up that you can’t even see that every minute we waste, Camila may be getting hurt and actually killed by the crazy bitch?!

"I know you don’t want to believe something just to get let down. I know that happened so many times after her death and we all believed it time and time again. But I don’t think someone would randomly just up and do this so many years later. Lauren, please. Camila could-”

I suddenly found myself shouting at the top of my lungs as tears filled my eyes. “Enough Dinah!” My hands shook as Ally and Normani stopped what they were doing to stare at me as Dinah shrunk back slowly. This is what I didn’t want. This is what makes me weak. I can’t be weak for my daughters. I can’t be weak for myself. I just couldn’t. “Camila is gone. Alright? She’s gone. Shes not coming back, she’ll never come back. You wanna know why? Because she’s dead. Dead people don’t make a r-reappearance,” my voice cracked as realization hit me for the first time in years. My wife is dead. I’d never get her back. The familiar aching that I haven’t felt in so long soon returned to the center of my chest as the room started to close in around me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Normani was the first to get up and come to my side, followed by Dinah and Ally. “Okay Lo. Okay. We’ll stop, just breathe, alright? Please calm down.”

Moments after catching my breath, I shoved the three women off of me. My knees felt weak, my head throbbing with an upcoming migraine. “Let this go and leave. Luna and Lana won’t be reintroduced to you just for you guys to walk away again. Go back to wherever you came from,” I spat out, my green eyes glaring holes into each of them.

The three of them shared looks of defeat before gathering their things and heading towards the door. Just as Dinah went to open it, Ally turned around and walked back over to me. She wrapped her tiny arms around me, not caring if I didn’t hug back as she whispered in my ear. “I know it’s scary to think of the possibilities, but don’t completely rule them out. Because I believe there is a God. And the God that I worship isn’t so cruel as in to let us all be toyed with like this after so many years. I believe that Mila is alive. And we’re going to find her, with or without your help,” pulling away she looked at me with tear filled eyes. “Even if this is all one big prank, even if this is all one big joke to someone, trying never hurt. Because without effort, there’d be no faith. And with no faith, then what are we as human beings?”

I felt my mouth hang open slightly, at a loss for words. Shaking my head and closing my mouth, I stepped back. By now Dinah and Normani had both come back over as the three of them stared at me expectantly. “So…?” Normani trailed off, the three women awaiting my reply.

***

Bringing her fist up to knock on the door, she shifted from side to side impatiently, glancing around. When the door opened and she came face to face with the familiar hazel eyes, she spoke quickly. “They know that Camila is alive.”

Hazel eyes turned to slits as she dragged the woman inside before shutting the door. “What the hell do you mean by "they know” Janelle?“ She hissed out, anger coursing her body.

Janelle shook like a leaf under the harsh, murderous gaze of Lola.

***

a/n: im so sorry for the late update. because of that i made this chapter extra long and divided it into two parts. the next part is gonna be so… just wow lmao. so double update for y'all. i’ll post that after seeing the feedback on this one.

please make sure to comment and vote. to my tumblr readers, please visit my wattpad @ wthbello to see when i upload the second half of this part. please answer chapter questions below if you’re a wattpad reader.

what do you think about lauren accusing tori?

what do you think tori and her mom will find out?

how do you feel about this chapter overall?

what do you think of janelle?

do you think lauren will try to go along with finding camila?

how do you feel about laurens initial reaction?

thank you so much for reading. i really, really, really, really, reeeeaaaalllllyyyyy, hoped you enjoyed it. please let me know if i should go ahead and post part two of this chapter or have yall just forgotten about this book? lmao.

once again, make sure to comment and vote. answer those end of the chapter questions too. lmao (:

ALSO DONT WORRY NORMANIS COMING OUT IN THE BEGINNING WILL SOON BE UTILIZED A FEW CHAPTERS IN. IT WASNT JUST FOR SHOW.

one last thing, i wanna address the whole laucy situation momentarily. if one of my readers happens to be apart of the group of people who harasses lucy, who comments endless lines of "camren is real” under any of their posts, who deliberately tries to hurt anyone lauren or camila have gotten close to, this is a giant fuck you to you. please hop the fuck off my page.

there’s nothing more disgusting than a group of people who intentionally try to hurt others for - as lauren would put it - their own sick pleasure. people romanticize gay ships these days and its kind of creepy. obsessing over two people who have told you time and time again that something isn’t real is crazy af. sure i write camren and yes i do ship them. but im also respectful of their wishes as human beings. im respectful of the fact that the things i read and write is nothing but fictional and should stay that way. im respect of the fact that they are two grown women trying to get through life as individuals and create their own individual relationships.

please, i am begging you, give it a rest. camren isn’t alive. never has been and never will be. its a fantasy that fans have made up. thats not a problem. everyone has the right to feel a certain way towards something, but forcing it onto someone? hurting people they love? now that’s a whole new level and it’s unacceptable.

as someone around the girls’ age, (im 20) and pretty much had to grow up at a young age like that, if not younger, i kind of understand in a sense. i was put into the foster system from age 6-16. luckily being adopted in my late teens. i had to grow up hella fast and if in that mix, i had a group of people on my back pairing me with my best friend and saying that we’re dating, we’re fucking on the DL, making up scenarios and theories as to how that person and i could secretly be together, i’d hate my life. i mean, what’s fun in having millions of people intentionally ruin aspects of your life for their own wants?

all im saying is respect lauren and whatever relationship she’ll have with lucy. because ive seen it. ive seen how those two stare at each other and THATS love. not whatever we make up in our heads. those two have been through it all with each other and the least we can do as people who love and care for lauren is respect how she feels towards someone and i hope that one day they can mend their broken relationship and come out the way that they had planned to. come out with zero fucks and unconditional love and happiness towards each other.

if you don’t like that, if you don’t wanna read what i have to write anymore because i choose to respect two individuals and keep my fantasies, fake, then please by all means, unadd this story from your library and never read any of my works again.

thats all i have to say on this matter. i have the utmost respect for lauren and lucy and i wish nothing but goodness and happiness to those two. thats love. whether hard headed camren shippers choose to respect that or not. if you are willing to fuck someone else’s happiness up for your own, you’re a horrible person and fuck you. goodbye.

don’t forget to follow me (;

sorry if that rant or this chapter as a whole made no sense. english isnt my first language and i tend to fuck up a lot when it comes to writing it. anyways thanks for reading.

ellianna, xxxxxxx