#bc I refuse to hurt myself if it’s someone else’s fault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartate · 8 months

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i just need to vent somewhere for a second where ppl unrelated won't see it bc i know they're tired of me lmao. feel free to ignore this i'm just sooooooo. augh. really long vent post tbh. i had a lot to say.

i didn't really talk about it publicly a lot, because it's like, it's not something i could really talk about publicly because it's like... what do you even say, you know. like. you spend so much time having feelings for someone to where you go "wow i'm in love with them" and they say "yeah i'm in love with you too and i'd like to live with you and shit someday" but like, refuse to put a label on it. like, this was a situationship going on from the end of may 2022 up until july 2023 so. lol. and like. it's been over three months now and i still don't know if i'm over the whole thing, but i think about it less and less now. i'm still irritated and annoyed and extremely hurt about the situation, because.

i was given excuse after excuse about why we couldn't just put a label on it and like, be "official" despite the fact that every single day it's "wow i love you SO much, i can't wait to have a life with you" you know. and it's like.

i had a bpd(tm) moment last november that really spiraled badly in december, but like got triggered in september, and when i start spiraling i spiral for months and it does not end, and i drop off the face of the earth (if anyone's reading this at all, i apologize for disappearing lmao). and this is heavily to do with why i just forgot about tumblr for like 2 years, because i busied myself with a man i really love(d?) and like. i don't fault him at all for being scared of committing, because i am too, and i don't fault him not even a LITTLE bit for being unequipped or shocked and scared and not able to deal with the magnitude of how depressed and anxious and paranoid i get when things get really bad for me. i don't mind that. but i spent so long trying to repair that wedge, but it was never the same, even if i got fooled for a few moments into thinking things were normal and okay.

and i'm that person who, if i feel like i'm being annoying or that i'm not wanted, i will shrink back and wait for the other person to reach out to me first for once, because if i feel like i'm the only one making the effort time and time again or if i keep getting plans flaked on or shafted even if i make them like days or a week or more in advance, i just fuck off and wait, because i don't want to be push and i just get so anxious and sad. so when he told me that he "felt the momentum drifting and that the interactions weren't as energetic" i just. i was really hurt. and i told him this, and i expressed that i pulled back because i just. was mirroring what i was getting while just waiting and dying for him to just give me a second of his time.

and he lied to me when he dumped me in july (while i was in japan visiting family and already not having a good time over there, mind you), and told me that he wanted to try "dating someone in town" when i confronted him about something a friend showed me. but, turns out it was just another girl long distance, who is also EST like i am, and his excuse to me for why we weren't working was the distance and that he now lived across the country instead of two states away, but was willing to go chase someone else in the same distance as me? and enough so to actually put a label on their relationship, and seemed so much more torn up over that not working out than he ever was about the prospect of losing me despite him telling me how much he loved and wanted me and wanted to have a life together.

there were a lot of principles that i compromised on and actually changed my mind about because of him, because i loved him enough. like. i never, ever, ever wanted kids in my life. i knew this since i was really young, and he was the same way, but then he mentioned it one day and idk if it was a joke but his answer was so serious so i thought about it and i was like, you know what? if it's with him, i'd want a family, and we'd be so fucking cute. so it's like. how do you do and say all of that to someone and just, throw that away for someone you barely knew in comparison to someone you've known and loved for years. it just. it made me feel so awful and just really? worthless? because i just. i loved him so much, and i still do, i think. i spent like. two months straight just. crying over him and just. he vented to me a few weeks ago about the situation and the things he told me, his gripes with his ex now, i was just sitting there like. the hurt you feel is the same i feel because i had to beg on my hands and knees for some of your time because i felt so ignored.

it's so awful because i was so sure about him. and what i felt was so genuine, and what i felt from him was so genuine and real. at least it was to me. maybe it wasn't. i don't know lmao. i have bpd so i just drink delulu juice and maybe i'm just delulu over all of it. it just really sucks lol. i just. it hurts to feel like i just got discarded like that, or that he'd tell me "you know i want to come see you" or that he "wouldn't be opposed to trying for real in the future" but i don't want to feel like a rebound or like i'm the second choice like i just. for once, would like to matter to someone as much as they matter to me. maybe i just am stupid and have awful fucking taste lmao because i clearly don't choose anyone who's good for me. what makes this hurt too is that he is truly just so amazing of a person and i just. i don't know lmao. and i told myself, i want to continue to make the effort to stay close to him in the event that maybe he does change his mind and realize hey, she's right there and has been all along and i've always loved her, but that's so stupid and pathetic lmao. i haven't spoken to him in nearly 2 weeks now because he just. never replied and i felt annoying and i keep waiting for him to talk to me first because it hurts to be the only one trying every single day but. idk. i think i give up because i really can't do this anymore lmao. i'm so tired and i'm tired of being hurt and sad over a man. idk why i keep ending up in these situations lol but it makes me feel so awful

#vent -#negative -#long post -#ignore meeeeeeeeee #i just needed to get this out and #i didn't wanna go to my close friends about this either bc #i know what they're gonna say and i don't wanna hear it 😭😭#ooc.#tbd.

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troglobite · 1 year

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laskdjflaskdjf

retroactively caveating this: if we're mostly/p much only internet friends, the dynamic is so entirely different that none of this really applies. i'm talking ppl i've known almost my whole life, and/or ppl i know irl and would be meeting w in person if not for ongoing covid.

------

sitting here thinking

realizing some things

previously it felt like the tiny number of friends i had/have were only ever interested in using me for their needs and purposes

previous friend group was always talking about everyone else's problems--for hours, days, weeks on end. nothing ever changing.

when i brought my stuff up it halted the entire conversation

i would complain and get nothing in response.

someone else in the group would, out of the blue, make a big request or set a big boundary and it was no problem

but my small requests, discomforts, and boundaries were always treated as Too Much.

and previously i've always thought--it's partly my fault, partly the fault of all friends i've had, that friends always relied on me and sought my advice and instruction and wanted me to do things for them, but didn't ever want to do things for me.

but i'm also realizing now--

well i mean i sort of have always known as well, but in general people. don't take an interest in the things i'm interested in. they don't want to hear about it or listen to me talk abt it.

my mom is the only person who puts up with my infodumping, and she does her Mom's Best. most of the time i don't feel awful. when i try to stop talking bc i feel annoying sometimes she'll ask a question to keep me talking.

haha okay i'm just crying now??? idk.

anyway. it's nice. i still feel deeply annoying. and it's not bc she treats me that way in those moments, it's bc i know she's not truly interested, and also bc at other times, when she's angry or hurt or triggered by something, her resentment towards me comes out. and so when she's being nice abt my special interests and infodumping, i guess part of me is like. she's being nice, but she's just being nice. bc she loves me and cares abt me. but it is. a kind of emotional chore.

so anyway there's that detour.

point being all those posts online "i love when people infodump at me i love seeing how happy and excited they are i love learning new things"

WHERE ARE YOU FUCKING PEOPLE?! I'VE NEVER MET ONE OF YOU. EVER. IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

okay another detour over, sorry.

i'm just now thinking. about friends and friendship again.

i get mad when i can help someone and they don't tell me or ask me. or they don't even give me a chance.

i get MAD. i get so panicked and hurt and upset and confused. idk how to describe the feeling. it's. Big.

it's just Big and Loud and Intense.

when i can help someone and they don't let me know they need help, or they refuse my help when i offer, or they don't ask and i have to come in media res to help out after they've already hurt themselves or overextended themselves, when i could be there for someone and they don't reach out.

i get. That Really Big Feeling. and it's bad and i don't like it.

and i'm frustrated and thinking bc like. part of me is someone who can't handle not being able to help people.

i am disabled and poor and my various abilities are very limited. i cannot do a lot of things that would help a lot of people.

it crushes me. i don't like that feeling. nobody does.

and i care so so so deeply abt the ppl i love.

and--

and we're back to this bit where i don't allow myself to get invested in friends and relationships bc again, i've always been Too Much for ppl.

if i msg too often, ask too many things, open up too much, want to hang out too often, want to share everything w them and be close and. it's Too Much.

and being a queer kid, i couldn't be clingy and huggy w my friends bc it was seen as creepy and gay.

i just. didn't get to hug anyone v much. i had to hide and suppress a lot of my affection. both bc i'm queer and autistic, so it always read as Too Much and Weird.

and it's just very weird to go through life most of the time feeling next to nothing abt other people. bc i've shut that off. and if i turned it on and allowed myself to feel i'd just be a mess, constantly, all the time.

bc if i feel those things then it makes it even harder to deal with what got me Thinking in the first place--

that i'm not a priority in any of my friends' lives.

and it's weird and shitty this time bc now, for several months, i am not even the person that any of them turn to first for help.

so my ONE way to be in contact w friends & feel helpful? is not available to me bc i am not a priority--and i'm not in their list of first responders.

i am not number one. i am not anywhere in the top five.

i'm someone they occasionally think about. or only think about in a certain capacity.

mainly, rn, their DM. or the person who offers compliments. or the person who spams the discord like an annoying bastard w stupid things that no one gives a single solitary FUCK about, and so they ignore.

so it's the double whammy

i don't even get to FEEL something about them ~only using me for advice and support~ and never engaging w my interests or offering to support me

bc they're not even asking me for advice or support

and i'm just realizing how little i matter

and how many other people they have who are more immediate, more important, closer to them--who they just plain like more

and i have no way of finding any other friends

and i'm sort of spiraling

i thought i had. The Friend Group. like i was set. i was so excited and--looking back. ha.

part of what began to drive the stake between us was my Too Muchness.

apart from some red flags i was ignoring, it seemed like we were all in for each other. there were so many things we wanted to do! plans we were making!

we went on a vacation together, which was HUGE for me, w my overwhelming fear of road trips (hard to explain, not what immediately comes to mind), general anxiety abt being away from home, and lack of Comfort around ppl other than my mom. and i thought it went really well! it seemed like it!

but then i went to grad school and they thought i was an elitist traitor or something? that i thought i was better than them? i literally don't know bc they never told me or admitted to any of their actions or feelings so i've been left to guesswork to fill in the blanks.

but the other part of it was--

i so wanted. to do all those things with them. they were a top priority for me. they were involved in the way i was planning literally the future, years out ahead in my life. that's how i was thinking abt my future. with them in it.

and i just remember one time we went out to eat (which they forced me to do even though i fucking hated it and just wanted to hang out with them and not spend money or be around other loud people) and at that time they revealed that they had plans to move in together (three of them) and they hadn't told me but they'd told the friend in virginia.

they talked abt being concerned abt that friend in virginia--but not me, off in minnesota.

and they mentioned a summer vacation. and i said oh wow that sounds awesome, i love that place. do you think we could do another trip like last time? would that be possible? or maybe just one like it some other time?

and i was so excited and enthused abt it. ME! EXCITED ABT VACATIONING W PEOPLE OTHER THAN MY FAMILY!

and looking back i can see how offput they were (mainly one of them) w that suggestion. they found it distasteful and were humoring me.

of course, covid hit and everything fell apart, so it never happened. lucky them. they went on many trips together after that. i know bc i haven't unfollowed or blocked all of them on social media. they're not often on it so it doesn't matter too much.

but they've posted abt their other trips together.

including one BEFORE i had "left the group" that they just. didn't tell or ask me about.

but i was Too Much for them.

despite everything--despite putting up with their treatment of me and not even noticing it was wrong or bad--i was so excited to just spend more time w them and build my future plans involving and around them.

and even though THEY were the ones that started it...

me doing it was Too Much.

and now i have this group

and the group has splintered bc three of them roomed together and it went Very Weird

and now there's literal hatred and animosity btwn a couple of them

which has meant that for the first few miss frizzle games, all i got hanging w the ones i'm closer to afterwards was just an endless stream of angry complaints abt the other players--

even when i thought everything was fine and had gone well.

yes, even i get frustrated w those two players sometimes. but this last session went really well and the story's picking up and i'm excited for it. and i just--the things that have made me frustrated. i've gotten over. or i've said something in a funny way to make the complaint/dislike clear so we can laugh abt it and move on and it won't get repeated. and it's worked.

but i'm just.

it used to be that we could all chat in the discord sometimes

then that group fell apart

and then 3 of them were like "hey let's make our own server and hang out there"

and it was good for a while

and now it's radio silent, same as before

a few memes or tiktoks

but i'm the one in there most of the time

trying to start conversations and share things

and getting no response

and they're all going through shit, i know

but only loosely

because none of them fucking talk to me

i was called a best friend by one of them and now i'm not even on the list of ppl to inform abt her life. to complain to. to chat w. for months now.

and honestly i'm just so sad and tired and lonely over never having any responses to anything i put in the discord that i just--

i know they're all tired and overwhelmed. i know.

so i don't reach out asking abt that stuff.

if they wanted to complain to me or get my support, they would ask.

and i know that bc that's how it's been in the past.

but they're all in their own spaces and places w their own ppl who are. more enmeshed in their lives. more important. more everything.

and i'm just the annoying shithead who's like 5-6 years older than them just posting stupid shit in the discord for them to ignore.

and one of them bailed 15 mins before our miss frizzle game this past sunday, after having told me they could come and play. i also had set the expectation that ppl tell me if they can't make it w a few days' heads up, bc i need to be able to prepare. we could survive a couple ppl missing a class/game session here or there, it would be okay. and obviously shit happens last minute, so that's fine.

and i absolutely understand that they're going through the Pits of Depression Hell, rn.

but i only get it vaguely bc they don't talk to me. i am not an important or close friend.

i'm not saying that to insult them or myself. it's just true. i am not an important or close friend, for them.

but i asked them--on the off chance--if they might want to sit in on the session, since this "class" was going to be two gaming sessions, and if they could make it to the next one, i'd want them to know what was going on or lemme know any choices they made.

and i said either way, we'd just retcon that their character was there, no problem.

their response sounded. so fucking mad at me. "god i'm fucking sorry i went back to sleep. he's [the PC] basically plant life it's fine"

i didn't say

"hey fuck you for not showing up"

i asked if they'd wanna sit in the group and observe

partly bc sometimes sleeping curled up in a depression pit makes things worse, and partly just so it was easier for them to rejoin in the next session.

bc like. reading an entire game session summary is also a lot. and these players. have a hard time reading ANYTHING i send them. they do it. they manage it. just enough. oddly, the players i anticipated having the most trouble w that are the ones doing the best--my expectations have been flipped.

but i figured sitting in the zoom room might be vaguely entertaining background noise (w camera & mic off!) and they could pick up next session easier, and maybe being around ppl they generally like would be a little bit of a pickmeup.

but instead my question/offer was seen as. angry? needling? judgmental? idfk.

my response was me pretending nothing was wrong bc they had voiced nothing to indicate that anything WAS wrong, and i'm having to work on not interpreting things from ppl when they haven't communicated anything to me. if someone is upset w me or if i hurt them, they HAVE TO TELL ME or i cannot do anything abt it. it's not fair to either of us to expect me to psychically divine every time something is wrong.

and they responded in kind.

but i'm just like.

what the fuck?

you don't talk to me. you don't respond to anything i say. you said, before this campaign ever began, that you "just want a campaign that actually happens"

and then 15 mins before the game you bail--when i have to calculate and balance encounters for a certain number of players AHEAD OF TIME. when i have to spent a lot of time preparing roleplay scenes and information to give your character.

so i'm kind of scrambling, yeah, and hoping that maybe you'll sit in on the session--NOT PLAY! NOT TALK! NOT ANYTHING TO DO WITH PARTICIPATING AT ALL SOCIALLY OR IN THE GAME!--so that it's easier for BOTH OF US to prepare for the next session

because now i have to type up a whole game summary to fill them in on what they missed

assuming, of course, that they don't bail on the next game 15 mins beforehand

i just. i understand that things happened.

but i quite literally went into the discord w just the 3 of them who were like "let's all be friends in here!" and then proceeded to fucking ignore me

and i said basically--

'hey what's the vibe? how are y'all feeling abt the campaign and playing in it, rn? bc i'd be fine hitting pause until y'all felt more ready to participate. we could do oneshots and jackbox game sessions, instead, for a few weeks or a couple months, and then jump right back in. bc i have this campaign literally outlined through to the end, so we WILL complete it. we're NOT bailing on it. lol but we could hit pause if need be. bc this game is a lot of work, and i want y'all to be there in such a way that you can enjoy it. i don't want y'all to miss out or not be present mind-wise. so if we need to hit pause, let's do that.'

and to be clear, no one had communicated ANYTHING to me.

but that was sort of the point.

radio silence.

how am i supposed to interpret that? what am i supposed to do with that, except infer that i should ask them how things are going?

they won't talk to me about their lives, maybe they'll fucking talk to me about this game that THEY wanted to happen. that THEY are invested in. that THEY requested have a large, overarching story and lots of roleplay.

no one directly engaged w anything i said. they both responded abt the upcoming game, and that was it. said they'd check in by friday.

i had to remind them and ask explicitly to get a response friday at like 5 fucking pm

and if that doesn't say it all abt where their priorities are right now

which--

WOULD BE FUCKING FINE

IF THEY WOULD JUST FUCKING TALK TO ME

but they don't and won't.

and here i sit capable of only feeling so many emotions.

if they're (the one who responded as such above) mad at me for being too "businesslike" abt the game, despite me not being a dick abt it and saying it was fine either way, then i'm sorry

but maybe try actually fucking talking to me AT ALL abt ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE GAME so that way it actually feels like maybe we're friends

instead of me being an unpaid DM doing a LOT of fucking work for a group of people who don't particularly care abt me or my wellbeing or the work i'm putting in

and who have lives and friends and family and other shit that's infinitely more important than me

and to circle back around, part of the reason i was so. baffled and confused--and i didn't even have the space or capacity to process and feel that at first--by the angry response to my offer/question

is because

if it's that bad

why are you isolating away from me?

i can't DO anything for you if you don't talk to me! if you don't fucking say anything!

i'm trying to reach out these stupid little branches for fun little moments of conversation and goofiness and what have you

and just. no takers. no response. no nothing.

and idk what their life is like bc they don't talk to me.

none of the three really talk to me.

and forget the other three players, i NEVER talk to them. i am just someone who DMs for them.

they don't ask abt my life or anything. we don't talk abt it.

i don't have a friend group.

i have a group of people, half of whom claim that i am their friend and do nothing to demonstrate it, that i DM for and work my ass of for, and i get nothing in return.

i just wanted them to have fun.

and this last session went so well

but that's it. that's all the time i have to talk to these ppl.

my requests that we hang out more--forgotten for weeks, so i don't bring it up again. bc i have ALWAYS been the one asking.

only to find out, every time throughout my life, that they were all hanging out without me anyway. that i'm just annoying.

i'm Too Much. they don't like me. they don't want me.

and when they do, it's just for advice or support or to use me for something, like DMing.

that's it.

and when we talk abt the game i get excited bc i work so hard on it and i care abt it so much and this is my FIRST TIME EVER DMing for a longform campaign

i have so many hundreds of pages written, so many maps made, so many characters and plots and stories to keep track of

because they asked me to

an option for this campaign was for it to be a monster of the week type thing. no overarching plot. no outer worlds. just a new class each week, everything's fine, then the class ends, end of campaign.

but they wanted an overarching story. and i made it. really big. and, i hope, really cool. really interesting and exciting to try and figure out. something that they'll have fun pulling apart, that will be compelling when it's revealed--all of its itinerant pieces revealed and explained, one by one, over the course of the campaign.

and i just.

want friends.

period.

but also, friends with whom i can get really excited abt this campaign.

and i offered to pause the campaign so everyone could rejoin properly.

and so far the one who bailed 15 mins before--btw, going through diff med changes which are ALWAYS difficult, and didn't fucking think to tell me until i'd had to explicitly ask abt attendance and scheduling like a fucking pain in the ass HR manager or teacher scolding them--has said nothing abt it.

bc they just don't fucking talk to me.

but clearly they need the time as well

and what, they think that despite the fact that i have the entire campaign outlined, that i'll bail on it?

meanwhile the three i was worried abt bailing on the game are fully in, and the three who claimed to be completely in and want this most are not able to be in it, right now. and won't communicate that to me.

i mean to be fair it's really only two of them at the moment.

but now i'm just going down this whole again where i get worked up about the campaign.

but i'm just. realizing. that part of the anger and frustration--which i have to emphasize is not AT any of them--is bc.

they don't need/want me as a friend.

i am not important outside of the game.

and now the game is not even in their top 5 priorities--and i understand why.

but now it's like

they don't ask me for help or support

they don't care abt the things i say

they don't want to have fun conversations or times with me

and they can't be there for this game that i am working so fucking hard on for them

i am making this game for them.

it's really, REALLY hard for my brain to do this. i can't judge if i'm saying too much or not enough. if i'm making something disappointing and boring. i can't tell if they're actually enjoying it, or if the few of them who say "that was fun, thanks, beck!" are humoring me or if they really mean it.

i can't tell if this is exciting and cool. if they like the NPCs. if they like the other PCs and the roleplaying. if they see the mystery. if they're invested.

i can't tell.

and i get little hints that, maybe they are?

and so i worry i'm just in my head abt this, that i'm making this game for me.

i want to have fun, too.

but all of the things i'm doing--i'm doing bc they asked me to.

i offered a miss frizzle game.

i decided i needed to make the world for it.

i asked them what they wanted from the game

and after a lot of fucking pestering they FINALLY told me what they wanted (bc it took them forever to fill out a 4 question survey where the answer could be "nope i'm good!" to basically all the fucking questions, takes 5 mins at most)

and i took that to heart

and i built a world and a plan and a campaign around that

i worked to find ways to connect everything to each of their characters

i've put so much into this

and i'm just

feeling really confused and conflicted

bc no one wants me.

they maybe want me as a DM. maybe.

and that requires. so much work on my part.

and i don't get. any actual friendship from them.

i don't even get to help them with their problems or talk to them abt stuff. i don't even get that anymore.

i feel annoying trying to talk abt the game between sessions. like i'm annoying all of them.

and i just--

this is part of why i resent being told to reach out and be interested in other people

they find me annoying and creepy and Too Much

bc i love other people

as much as i say i hate them

i hate them bc they hate me

i wanted to just read my book and go to fucking sleep early tonight and instead i've been sitting here for an hour crying and typing this up.

and for what?

it changes nothing.

and then fuck me, too, for the times when i'm too tired to want to be engage in a full conversation.

or i'm wary of replying too quickly to something bc what if i'm being annoying or overwhelming?

worrying with every message i send that i've done something wrong. bc isn't that always the case?

and so i want to respond when i feel good enough to respond w the right tone and it's not forced or fake.

bc i guess i'm still trying to perform the interesting agreeable cool funny friend

even talking abt problems i don't talk abt anything that someone can't relate to at all.

and things in my life are so nebulous and weird anyway.

no one could "offer support", right, so why do i even want or miss it?

it's just stupid. i'm tired of being 28 fucking years old and still having to deal with shit like this.

and all those "life gets better in your 30s"

do you SEE the world?

i'll be lucky if i even make it to 40.

not even by my own hand. just everything else.

"there's always time to start what you wanna do"

that's a nice sentiment. it's even true a lot of the time.

when there's not a pandemic. when you have money. and friends. and opportunities and options in front of you. and no disabilities.

i'm just being stupid and shitty and negative now.

but i sort of resent anything that makes me feel fulfilled or alive rn bc then the crash back to earth hurts even worse.

the absence of everything else the majority of the time feels even worse.

and i'm not going to talk to ANY of them abt this bc what would be the point?

they're not in a place to handle a conversation like that w any grace. i'm not even MAD at them! they haven't deliberately done anything wrong, they're just struggling! a lot!

and last time i tried to have a conversation abt things that i was worried abt or hurt by or just wanted to clear up, everything imploded around me and i ended up ghosted and abandoned and blamed for everything.

shit's already empty and absent enough without me throwing dynamite at it and making it worse.

it's just that normally the effort i put into a friendship is immaterial.

but now i'm DMing this game and the effort is very material.

and now i'm feeling it more accutely.

and i can't do anything abt it.

i just.

hanging out w friends makes me feel better. and i KNOW that's the case for most people.

and here i am, trying to make that happen in a low stakes way just talking in discord.

and still nothing.

just.

nothing.

i'm a bad person for trying. for asking. for wanting.

i can't help if i don't know, if they don't tell me.

but they don't want me to ask. bc they don't respond to anything i say, at this point.

enough to know they're alive. and that's abt it.

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eyssimont · 1 year

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I have said it so many times that whatever happens to me at this job can happen but I refuse to be headhunted by a person who is power hungry and controlling and take the blame for an incompetent employee.

And whatever happens to me can happen but I will never forgive them for the anguish I saw on my friend's face today bc of this situation. I will never forgive anyone for hurting someone I love with my entire heart. How dare anyone think they can go after me and hurt the people I love too.

I've tried to keep it together. I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted my fate to be written. I wanted to rip off the band aid myself. What more can hurt me? Why do I fucking care? I just wanted to say my peace. I just wanted him to know I was just glad we became friends. It's all I had wanted.

I know I'll carry this moment with me forever. I know I'll remember what it felt to be seen and heard.

But I couldn't do it bc I couldn't stop crying. Because I know I'll never forgive myself for getting myself into this mess. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to tell him it was my fault and he should be angry at me bc I'm an idiot but I'm glad he stopped me before my people pleasing and guilt took over. Before I tried to soothe him instead of the other way around. I'm glad to know he knew I was drowning and stepped in to save me. He chose to believe me, to hear me out, and hold me when I haven't had anyone to do that in years.

And I'll always love you and you've been one of the most amazing people I've ever had as a friend. I'm sorry my stupidity, my need to bark back, got me into this mess that is hurting so many people like you.

I love you, Will. I know we're just friends. I know this friendship has, at times, been messy and I've tried to pull away and I'm sorry I tried to end it last month out of spite and jealousy.

I know you and I must have loved each other in a past life and I bet we were happy. I bet we had our books and our laughs and our jokes and I bet we were warm and free. I'd like to believe so.

I should've kept my mouth shut. If only I would've known then that it would turn into this.

If only I would've thought of anyone else and not just myself.

#so close to love #but still came up short #i didn't want to add this in here #the last person to hold me #was an awful person who tried to hurt me #i think this undid that

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phantaloon · 3 years

Text

tw self harm and depression

#tw self harm #so like i relapsed this week #because everything really is falling apart and i haven't felt this lonely or this helpless in a long time #my friends have moved on they all have their own friends they can actually spend time with because I'm too emotionally tired to #there's my number 1 best friend and we were supposed to make it through med school together and yet here we are #she's going up and around with who was supposed to be our friend group but it's really hers and I'm the plus one #the funniest thing is i don't fault her #i wouldn't want to spend time with me either #and yeah it's been me who says no to study groups but that's bc in the past i only felt used and drained or completely ignored #even with her who I've known for 15 years with whom we're supposed to stick by each other I've always felt like nothing #and now it's worse because I'm really really nothing unless she wants to clear up a doubt on a homework or the answers of a test #I'm really just here for convenience #and there's my other three friends who have lots of other better friends and I'm always the forgotten the one who's not enough #and ig i could say smth but ik them enough to know that they'd just be mad that i think this and never said anything but it's so hard #and my mom is convinced she has covid and refuses to be near me which is nice of her really but i really just need some love rn #and my brother is always angry for some reason and idk how to make things better and he doesn't even look my way #and so i have no one and nothing and i am no one and nothing and i just want to feel something but hollow and hopeless #and i relapsed this week after nearly a year clean and now i can't think of anything else but the feeling of harming myself #and i don't even know when that became a source of relief in the first place but it does feel like i can breathe without breaking down #and then i feel guilty because I could speak to someone instead of destroying myself but how do i do that without hurting them #and I'm back to square one #and i just haven't been this bad in years and i can barely make myself study for my tests which is a whole other issue #I'm just so tired and wish i could just go to bed and either not wake up or wake up and be better

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wetpapert0wel · 4 years

Text

JESUS CHRIST

#flick ticks #WILL I EVER SHUT UP? THE ANSWER IS NO LMAO #anyways. my dad is entirely the reason i am the way that i am and he's the reason i'm so fucked up. however he is not me. he doesn't control #my thoughts or actions. my thoughts and actions are my own but he's the reason i have those thoughts and act on them....if that makes sense #my mom sure as shit didn't help but like? i can forgive her bc my dad did to her what i did to my ex lmao.... i can forgive her bc she never #wanted to be the way that she is. she never wanted to get hurt. she just wanted to be with who she loved but it ended up fucking her over a #LOT. i can't forgive my dad though. he's the reason i'm a monster— and full disclosure: my thoughts and actions are not his *but* he caused #me to be this way in the same way that people die from exposure to poisons; they didn't want to get hurt and yet . but it's not their fault #that they got poisoned!! it's not their fault that they died!! in this hypothetical they could've gotten help but maybe they were like.#''i've tried everything and none of it works'' or ''whats the point if i'm gonna die anyway'' or ''nothing can help me. i dont want to try''#that's??? me. i thought i'd tried therapy but it never helped so i didn't want to try it again with someone else. i thought i was stuck in #an endless loop of hurting people so my best option was to just. try to kms lmao. i genuinely thought i was hopeless and a lost cause and #that i wasn't worth saving. but now i'm working on that lmao..... i'm actually trying to get better and God Fuck if i'm not proud of myself #i'm proud of myself for actually getting the help that i've needed for a fucking decade and a half lmao...the thing that i think kinda sucks #is that i feel like i was ? forced to get help. i very well could've just. refused everything that was being handed to me and been like #''no i'll fix it myself'' but i guess part of me was like ''lol no u won't. take all the help u can get u depressed bitch'' and also most of #the help i got was from a mental hospital where they're like. legally required to help me LMAO..... like. i could've made it rly hard for #them to help me by staying quiet and being dishonest about how i was feeling just to get out of there but like. i? let them help me take #steps towards recovery lmao....i wanted help but i just? had No idea how to find it or where to get it. which that was another reason i had #such a hard time getting help; i kept looking and looking and couldn't find anything that was helpful enough lmao... i've had?? 4 therapists #now and my first one and my most recent ones have been the ones i've clicked with most & so now they have this standard set for me shgkhdhks #tho thankfully my current therapist checks all the boxes sfjsbfs anyways uhh #i lost my train of thought so! i'm gonna end it here lmao. i might revisit this fuckin Shit when i have more thoughts abt it lmao #yeehaw

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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 2 years

Note

Hello Sunny, I dont know if you’re taking requests but if you are could you do a continuation of reader being too scared to spend Nanami’s money and what he would do? Thank you so much!

Yeeeeeeeeesssssss, i would LOVE to continue this headcanon skskks

Listen baby

If you do not want to spend Nanami's money, the two of you are gonna have some problems sksksk

LEMME BACK UP A BIT

I firmly believe that Nanami would fall head over heels in love with a humble individual

He doesn't like ppl who expect everything to be given to them and who have never worked a day in their life

No, he falls and he falls HARD for the lovely individuals who are independent to a fault

Someone who insists on giving instead of receiving bc he works the same way

Someone who refuses to take handouts for whatever reason, who can't take other ppls money or gifts

He finds your kindness and refusal to accept gifts quite endearing, and it just makes him want to spoil you more

He's drawn to your independence and he's so desperate to take care of you

It starts off small: paying for dinners, tickets, etc, small things that add up quickly over time

He's very insistent on paying for these things, so if you refuse to let him pay, he will go out of his way to take care of you

Gives his credit card to the waiter at the beginning of the date so that you can't pay, buys tickets in advance instead of once you get there, purchasing gifts when you're too distracted to notice

It makes you so MAD! How dare he?! He shouldn't be spending his money on you 😡

You confront him about it, wagging your finger and scolding him for spending so much money on you, and in all honesty, it just makes him want to spoil you more

Proceeds to shower you with as many gifts as possible sksksk

He doesn't care how upset you get that he spends money, he's just so happy seeing your flustered expression when you open a sleek box and find a pearl necklace inside

You always refuse the gifts, saying that you don't need them and that you won't get anything out of them

"Okay," he mumbles, pulling out his wallet, fishing for his credit card before handing it to you. "Then go buy some things that will be useful to you."

WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNN, AINT NO WAY IN HELL IM TAKING YOUR CARD SIR, YOU BETTER PUT THAT SHIT BACK IN YOUR POCKET BEFORE I—

He cups your chin, forcing you to face him directly. His grip is gentle but firm, keeping you in place as he stares at you seriously.

"Darling. This is what you're going to do: you're going to take my card and go out shopping tomorrow. I don't care what you get as long as it makes you happy. If you don't spend at least $300 on yourself, I will go out myself and spend three times as much on things you may not even like."

"Kento, please—"

"Y/N, just do this for me, alright? I won't ask anything else of you: this is all I want. Please, be good for me and take the card." hhhhhhhhhhhhhh praise kink go brrrrrrrrrrr

FINE OK I'LL TAKE IT 😖👉👈

You reluctantly take the card and go out on a shopping spree the next day which is a NIGHTMARE like what're you gonna spend money on?? You can't even buy a soft pretzel without feeling guilty about spending his money 😭

You eventually hype yourself up enough to buy stuff that you think would be useful (an expensive chef's knife, a couple recipe books, some luxury bath products you've been wanting to try for a while). It always hurts when you swipe his card—you can feel that lump in your chest get heavier and heavier—but eventually you spend $300 and make your way home, emotionally exhausted

You trudge into the apartment with all your bags, Nanami coming to greet you and help you carry things in

He kisses you tenderly and holds you close and gives the gentlest smile

"So? What did my pretty baby get themself today?" 🥺💕

You go through all the items you bought, explaining why you chose them and how they would benefit you (and him) and he's just smiling softly while you hold up a pretty bath bomb that has flowers and glitter inside

He hugs you again and says how proud of you he is, how grateful he is to have you and how happy he is that he was able to buy these things for you

His sweet words make you all mushy and lovey-dovey bc why wouldn't they

"Now, I'd like you to go out tomorrow and spend $500 on yourself."

wat

no wait I thought this was gonna be it whaddya mean spend more money on myself

You try to convince him that you're fine and it's not a good idea, but he insists yall are so fuckin stubborn it aint even funny skskks

"This time, I want you to buy some clothes for yourself. I don't care about the price. I want you to go out and get yourself something pretty."

"Ken, please, this is too much—"

"Please darling, just once more for me. Let me take care of you one more day and I'll never bring it up again, I promise." grrrrrrrrrr why does he have such cute puppydog eyes 😖🤧

Long story short, you go out and buy yourself some clothes sksks

You get some practical things, like new gym shoes and socks and whatnot, but you also get some fancy shoes and this expensive outfit that made you feel so pretty 💕

And when you come home, Kento is there and he tells you to go get dressed in the outfit you bought

"I'm taking you to dinner, darling" PLEASE my HEART 🤧💕

Takes you to this fancy restaurant and the two of you have a three course meal and dessert and go for a walk in a nearby park and talk and it's so romantic just so disgustingly romantic you could cry

But the night is not over my love 👀

No, once the two of you get home, he practically pounces on you, pawing at your body

He's tugging at your clothes, ripping them in the process, desperate to get to you

You're sore the next morning, but it's all worth it remembering the pleasure you received the night before

"Morning, darling," Kento mumbles into your neck, hands smoothing over your skin. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm-hm. Did you?"

"I slept like a baby. Although I feel apologetic about your clothes. I'm sorry for ruining them."

"It's okay, Ken. You didn't mean to."

He hums and kisses over your shoulder, pulling you closer

"It's alright, though. I'll get you a new outfit and plenty of others to make up for it." GOD DAMN IT—

#ask #nanami kento #suggestive #not really smutty #nanami kento x reader #gn reader #☀️ fics

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagines #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows show #shadow and bone show #six of crows netflix

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calehenituseappreciation · 3 years

Text

Tommy thinking Sam Nook and Sam are two different people would lead to such funny senarios.

Especially if you apply this logic to everyone.

what if mexican dream and quackity are the same people and that was just him making fun of dream and making tommy laugh and tommy genuinely thinks dream killed mexican dream and that hes a different person

and when ranboo pretended to be killed by clarencio

he just doesnt realise

he thinks girl dream is someone else too

tubbo genuinely has a bunch of personalities and so he thinks theyre all different people (and also he doesnt realise theyre the same people a lot)

sam, in his normal voice: tommy do you have the- tommy, crying: what happened to sam nook?

sam proceeds to live as sam nook around tommy because he once tried to tell tommy sam nook isnt real and he started sobbing and so sam cant

sapnap, approaching sam on the site: hey sam can you do this for me? sam: su- tommy, running up: SAAAAAAM!? sam, in the sam nook voice: hello tommy! sapnap: wtf??? tommy: this is sam nook! :D have you met him? sapnap: what? thats just s- sam: shakes his head, behind tommy where he cant see sapnap: uhhhhh sam: takes out sword sapnap: h-hi sam nook! tommy: :D

sam is not the only person this happened to.

tommy: technoblade???? techno, sneaking into l'manberg: uhhh techno, in a highpitched voice: no this is Clarencio tommy: the llama? techno, in high pitched voice: no the pig tommy: hmmm techno: sweats tommy: smiles brightly ok!!!! techno, under his breath: that worked??? tommy: wanna hang out with me? techno, in high piteched voice: i really need to go tommy: buttttttt :(

technoblade proceeds to have to pretend to be clarencio the pig and hang out with tommy all afternoon

phil, coming to check on techno: techno? techno, in a frilly pink dress, in a high pitched voice: hi tommy: phil!!!! have you met clarencio??? but not the llama!!! clarencio the pig!!! phil, holding back a laugh: is that so?

(defenitly happened before he got exiled, i refuse to change my mind)

everytime techno is caught he says hes clarencio (the pig) and tommy vouches for him each time and no one is able to bring themselves to tell him that clarencio (the pig) doesnt exist

sam nook, :handshake: clarencio the pic, :handshake: mexican dream, (not girl dream) not being able to tell tommy their not real bc hed cry

IMAGINE IF TOMMY WAS GIVEN THE JOB OF LIKE BEING THE BORDER PEOPLE WHILE HE WAS WILBURS VICE BEFORE THE ELECTION AND PEOPLE WOULD JUST FAKE IDENTIES AND TOMMY WOULD JUST BELIVE EVERYONE

quackity: i demand to be allowed to join l'manberg! wilbur: ur american quackity: i shpould still be allowed! wilbur: just say your not, thats what everyone does quackity: what wilbur: just make a fake identity?? quackity: youre... the president???? wilbur: yeah and?? quackity: shouldnt you not be be endorsing that??? wilbur: i made tommy the border person. you think i care? quackity: sksksks quackity: still bad tho

the only one tommy never believes is dream, no matter what, he can just tell when someone is dream, like ya know those police dogs? the only reason he didnt realise girl dream was because girl dream is girl dream he thought it was just a dream thing

TOMMY THINKS BAD AND MONOCHROME BAD ARE TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE

monochrome bad: tommy tommy: whomst? bad: oh uh recolourfies tommy, screaming: WHAT THE FUCK

tommy doesnt have object permanence but for people

techno, while tommy is staying with him: leaves room tommy, crying: I had a big brother once, i dont remember him tho

phil leaves them and (while stabbing wilbur) tommy just doesnt realize its him until techno says "dad?"

quackity works at wendys and tommy goes there everyday but doesnt realise its quackity

tommy went there since the war ended

and at the time didnt realise tommy cant tell and so when he and tommy started a mafia and became friends he thought tommy knew who he was and tommy once suggested going to dennys and quackity is like 'oh my god' and tommy is like my friend works there!!! and then they go to the one quackity works at and quackity is like 'haha funny' and then tommy asks around and then turns to quackity sadly like "my friend isnt here today D:" and then quackity is like o h

tommy, towards sam, in sams house: sam!!!!!! sam, who was sleeping, in his normal voice: w-what? tommy: sam!!! :D sam: hey tommy yawns whyd you wake me up? tommy: sorry but i really needed to ask you a question!!! sam: did you want to ask me where sam nook is again? tommy: welll.. that too but!!! you should meet sam nook!!!! sam: what tommy: please please please sam: no go back what did you ask? tommy: you need to meet sam nook! i think you'd be friends!!! :D sam, internally: shit sam: uhhh i dont really think i should- tommy: pleaasee uses puppy eyes sam: sure sam, internally: why did i say yes????

sam then has to pretend to be sam and sam nook at the same time

tommy: you're gonna love sam nook sam!!!! sam: uhuh tommy: where is he? :( sam: uh maybe hes behind you tommy: turns around to look sam: runs to other side of tommy sam, in sam nook voice: hello tommy!!! tommy: sam nook! have you met sam??? hes right here!!! gestures to sam who has to run behind him again tommy: sam say hi!!! sam, panting, in normal voice: hi tommy: whyre you all out of breath and shit???

this,,, just continues for a while

quackity, watching this exchange, driunking juice: sucks to suck sam: you'd do the same quackity: no. mexican dream is dead lol tommy, only hearing the last part: cries i miss mexican dream quackity, feeling sad: uh- we can revive him maybe? tommy: wipes tears YEAH! sam, whispers to quackity: told you so quackity, hisses to sam : shut up

quackity then has to pretend to revive himself while running around also he has to steal another one of dreams masks

honestly in this au everyone would hear about what happened during exile and stab dream (while pretending to be other people because ig in this au tommy still thinks dream was once his friend and yeh)

tommy, after crying infront of sam nook and telling him what dream did to him: so.. sniffs do you have any more quests for me to do? sam nook: i have one more quest tommy, cheering up: what is it!! sam nook: for myself tommy, confused: what is it? sam nook, taking out a glock: homocide

insanebur: you want to know why no one listens to you tommy? tommy, pouting, on the verge of tears: What? insanebur, unable to finish, clutching his heart: your too cute

this is just au where tommy is baby huh

wilbur isnt mad schlatt exiled him- hes mad he exiled tommy

schlatt and dream are the only ones not affected by tommys baby vibes and thats their downfall

tommy just has to call everyone a nickname, once, and everyone is melted

niki and jack: tommy is the fault of all our probelms we should kill him puffy: he. bonk is bonk baby bonk niki and jack: look over at tommy tommy, with sam in the distance: cries to sam because he cant find sam nook niki and jack: okay... maybe we should be less... violent...

Sam rlly just went

sam: looks at tommyinnit sam: nothing bad will ever happen to this child ever again

huh?

I’ve named this au, au where hes baby ur honour

tommy: i had zero parents (who care) tommy, gestures to puffy and sam: NOW I HAVE TWOOOOOOO

insanebur: god i fucking hate everyone tommy: even me? insanebur: except you tommy

sam: I AM THE TOMMY GAURDIAN! GAURDIAN OF THE TOMMY! sam @ anyone who wants to hurt him: FUCK OFFF

tommy canoanically understands the animal crossing language

ranboo: i can speak enderman! tommy: well i can speak creeper

whenever tommy gets overwhelemed around sam he burys himself he asks sam to cover for him in creeper

okay thats enough of that

#dream smp #tommyinnit #awesamdude #mexican dream #captain puffy #sam and puffy are the only ones who get parental rights #hes baby your honour

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Hey there^^ Haven't done a request for quite a while but I'm pretty stuck myself and I could really use something to lift my mood, too, and your writing always does that :) So, I thought of Satan or Lucifer with prompt 3 and 34, maybe? If it's not too much it'd be nice if the reader could be rather anxious (my anxiety is really acting up these days .-.) but that's not that important

Have a nice day and stay healthy ^^

Blue

Hi Blue! Thank you for requesting ^-^ I decided to do some Satan bc I have another Lucifer request and this way we can have some variety :D Please enjoy! ^-^

Pills - “Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?”

Stickers - “One more time. I’m giving you one more chance to stop fucking resisting.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

“Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy, right?”

His demand sounded reasonable, and his voice was calm. Still, the hand clutching your thigh was too rough with your skin, the fingers digging into it painfully. Immediately, you stopped bopping your foot, a nervous habit you hadn’t even noticed you started.

How long had you been sitting in his lap for now? An hour? Two? It felt like the whole morning and was probably more like the entire day, but through the partially hidden window in Satan’s room, you couldn’t make out the time of day, even if the Devildom had varying daytime-lightning outside. But this way, you could only count the pages Satan had already read as any indications of time, even though it wasn’t a reliable source.

Clenching your fists on top of your legs, you wondered what else there was you could do. Perhaps it was one thing to read the day away, but it was an entirely different one when you were just the lapdog to someone doing it. Even if you showed interest in books, Satan preferred to keep you close to him, and unfortunately, his favorite reading chair didn’t allow two people to read comfortably. That, and the constant fear you might actually find something useful to slip out of his grip, made him decide that you could read only with him or not at all.

It was just a problem that the language of the book he was reading wasn’t one you could understand.

All you were reduced to was a stiff, anxious, warm body sitting on top of him, hoping that soon Satan would decide to do anything else. You couldn’t live with his suggestions of taking baths together or being left alone for hours to no end while he took care of daily business, but this was the third day in a row where things were simply... too calm.

You had been quick to cease bringing up arguments. Satan had scared you once when he grew angry before your life took this turn by his side. Still, it was nothing compared to the violent and oppressive force he used on you now when you acted ‘unsuitable’, as he called it. Part of you wanted nothing more than to scratch his face, bite and kick, but when you brought up the courage to stand up for yourself and your rights, his exuding magic alone made you crumble to your knees in primal, inferior fear, knowing all the bad things he would do to you if you pushed it any more than you already had.

Wherever he took the patience from, it was wearing thin regardless of its masses.

That, and that alone, was the reason you even listened to what he said.

Looking down at yourself, you might not have been able to see any bruises left on you, but you felt them in every flinching of your muscles. The soreness, the pain - they never disappeared, and Satan wasn’t going to help you forget by applying magic to heal them.

Instead, he caressed your thigh with his hand, fingers circling over your skin menacingly. Perhaps from an outside view, it looked almost sweet, but you felt nothing short of a warning from his touch. Every touch was calculated. A game. Maybe he truly wanted to help you calm, but you wouldn’t have put it past Satan to actually try and provoke you to do something stupid. It was his way of forgiving the bad things he did to you, much like an eye for an eye. He disapproved of many things, but he couldn’t quite justify his actions if you didn’t act up. Satan swore up and down that he preferred cats over dogs, but god beware you’d behave like one. Unknown sadistic tendencies seemed to ride him when it came to you, and from what you understood, you were his place of comfort and peace when you were in his arms and his punchbag if you made his days worse than they needed to be.

But arguably, you were just his; all he needed, either way.

Worse thoughts crossed your mind than this. Ideas of how similar he was to Lucifer when it came to oppressing, but you would have taken the eldest brother’s help without even a moment of hesitation. At the same time, you wanted nothing more than to get away from Satan.

Encountering a sudden change of mood was what you feared the most. It happened too often. Satan wasn’t that hard to please, but he unexpectedly and sharply changed moods for no apparent reasons, just like a teenager.

What if he read a passage in his book he disliked? What if your foot began to bop again? What if your breathing was too loud? What if he decided you were too heavy... When would it stop? When would the worries finally go away?

He loved you. He told you he loved you, so why were you a prisoner in his room? Why did he refuse to let you go? See other people? Sleep in your own bed for a change? And why was he enraged every time such a wish crossed your mind?

The book in his hand lowered as you sunk deeper and deeper into your panicked thoughts, wondering what you should do from now on to stay on his good side and maybe regain your privileges. So many emotions fogged your senses; you didn’t even hear him take a deep breath as his eyes narrowed while they focused on your leg, nervously bopping up and down again.

However, you did notice the sudden jerk as he threw you off his lap, pain shooting through your body as you scrapped your knees on the floor. You hit the stacks of books Satan threw you into, hardcovers falling down on you, making you yelp as they felt like bombs raining down onto your body.

“What’s the matter this time?” he asked, standing up and closing the book. It took a lot of courage to look up at him, Satan’s pretty face and perfect posture as intimidating as the waspish shine in his deep green eyes. You perceived it as cold and belittling as he looked down on you, standing over your legs.

“I want to go home--” you whispered, close to tears as you averted your eyes from his, unable to look at him when he glared back at you so resentfully.

“[Name],” he called out to you in the most condescending way you could imagine someone speaking your name. However, you no longer could bear looking him in the eyes, and so, you let your head hang low, expecting the worst but hoping it was over soon.

“How long will you keep complaining. I was so good to you the last few days, wasn’t I? It’s all because you said you were unhappy with me, so I bettered myself, yet, you behave just the same. When will you realize this is home?”

Hearing this from him, you felt your heart break. Hearing that this dangerous, painful situation should be a norm and comfort for you made you want to throw up. But at the same time, it rose your spirits, and before you knew it, you were back on your wobbling feet, the pain being suppressed by adrenaline as you grabbed Satan by the collar. In retrospect, you realized you had been just like a frightened animal and snapped as he came too close for comfort.

“THIS ISN’T MY HOME! YOU ARE KEEPING ME HERE AGAINST MY WILL! WAKE UP, SATAN!” you screamed at him as loud as you could. Perhaps you wished for a stunned realization overcoming him, or maybe that someone else could hear you outside this little, private room. But it wasn’t like anyone came running to help anyway.

Instant regret flooded your mind as you felt his hands grip your wrists, the book he had held onto falling to the ground with a loud thud. A zip of magic sparked from where he grabbed you, burning through your body like venom. It was no question who was the stronger animal in this struggle, your body falling back and down into the pile of books with just one step Satan took forward. But with your hands still anchored in his clothes, you pulled him with you, and on top, giving him a chance to pin you down on the uncomfortable bed of books.

Though it felt like your bones were breaking under the pressure and awkward position, your will hadn’t been affected as much yet, your body instinctively pushing against him, even though it was futile.

“One more time. I’m giving you one more chance to stop fucking resisting.” The words escaped him through clenched teeth, a hostile fire flickering in his eyes that you were forced to stare into. You knew you had it coming for you. His rage. His anger. There was no way out now, and once again, you had made the situation worse for you than needed. Finally, as you felt your ragged breath fill your lungs unreliably, you calmed down, tears shooting to your eyes while the sobs escaped from your mouth.

For a minute or two Satan merely let you bawl it out, the streams of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the books beneath you, but it was of no concern to either of you. At least now, he didn’t tell you to cease your sadness too, and you realized all he wanted was for you to stop attacking him, even if it was unfair when he apparently was allowed to.

Instead, you found yourself being scooped into his arms, face pressed into his shoulder as you hugged him instinctively. His hold was right out of a book about how to console crying children, his hands perfectly falling to your head and back, calmingly rubbing over the hurt part of your body.

“Please...” you sobbed into his shirt.

“I love you. I will always love you, even if you do this to me,” he assured you. You didn’t want it. Not his love, not being held by him like this, not him playing the victim in this scenario. As if it was your fault he had to do these terrible things.

“Just... please...”

“Forever. We will stay together.”

His words did nothing to help you, even more crying ensuring as they laid down heavily on your mind.

“You’re all I have. All that only belongs to me,” Satan whispered while you shook your head softly, rubbing in the wet stains into his clothes and wishing it was all just a nightmare that you could wake up from.

“That’s why, from now on, I will be the only one for you as well.”

But you never woke up from it.

[You can find the prompt list here]

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thomaslightwoodenthusiast · 3 years

Text

hey you guys, here is a little something i’ve been working on! it’s going to be quite long so apologies, but i am going to eventually post it on wattpad too! enjoy!

(this piece revolves around thomastair, but is NOT thomastair only. they are going to be the main theme, but i don’t like writing pieces only on a ship. also it’s gonna be good anyways bc it has drunk and pining charles at one point)

A NOTE: i realised there is a problem. if i wrote the entire thing in a tumblr post, it will be far too long. but it also isn’t long enough for a work. i have decided i will upload in different parts. please let me know if after reading this you are still interested! if not, that’s fine and i’ll probably post it to wattpad lol. but i haven’t written in a while now and i am scared it’s not as good lol. anyways here u go

enjoy!

desc: in which christopher decides that everyone needs a pick me up after recent events, and concludes that the best way to do so is to hold a talent show at the institute. what could possibly happen?

———————————

Alastair scrunched up yet another ball of paper and threw it atop the ever increasing pile beside his desk. He had been trying for days- no, weeks now, to write a letter to Thomas. Despite feeling that he did the right thing in walking away, he could not scratch the feeling that he had hurt him. He wanted at least to apologise, and to let him know he believed it was the best decision for them both.

But was it? Alastair could not lie to himself. He did not feel as good as he thought he would. I’m doing this for his sake, he thought. He is more important to me than I will ever be to myself.

“So, what do you think?”

Alastair looked up. He’d almost forgotten about the ‘Talent Show’ Christopher Lightwood was arranging at the Institute. He was actually considering turning up to prove the point that he was not going to accept Matthew’s ill treatment of him, but he had little energy and currently could not be bothered to waste time on him. He knew that Cordelia was going. She and Lucie had chosen to audition together. They were going to act out a scene from ‘The Beautiful Cordelia’, with Lucie as Cordelia and his sister as one of her many lovers Lucie provided her with.

She was wearing his clothes.

“I think you look utterly mad. In a pleasant way, of course.” It was true. Cordelia looked amazing in his clothes. Not as good as he did, but a close second.

“Thank you, oh cheerful brother of mine. Are you quite alright? There is a rather large pile of paper beside you. Not to mention you look as if your eyes have cried the tears of the earth’s oceans,” she replied. There was the usual sibling tone of mockery in her voice, but also a tone of genuine concern. Alastair looked at himself in the window and realised Cordelia was right; he must have been crying, though he had no recollection of doing so.

“I am fine. Go and have fun. You deserve to, after this gargantuan mess.”

“Alastair, I am not stupid. I know when you are hurting. And what’s that on your desk?” she asked. Before he could stop her, Cordelia had made her way across the room and grabbed the piece of paper sitting in front of him. Alastair had not realised it, but he had written a few of his earlier thoughts on the page.

Cordelia frowned as she read out loud, “‘He is more important to me than I will ever be to myself.’ Alastair, I swear on all of the angels if this is about Ch-“

“It isn’t! It isn’t. I...well I suppose it’s just thoughts. Feelings.”

Cordelia was not having it. “If it’s not about him, who is it about?”

“Well, if you want a clue, his friend is the reason I cannot be at all bothered to attend tonight.”

Cordelia thought, and there was a long pause. She furrowed her brow. She seemed to be remembering something. “It’s not...is it Thomas?”

Alastair closed his eyes, as if the name pained him. “How did you guess?”

Cordelia had to admit; she wasn’t entirely sure. But a few observations she’d made over the past months had made her think. She remembered the time on the bridge when Thomas refused to show his tattoo- until Alastair had asked to see it. The time at Anna’s, when she had asked everyone what names they would want and Thomas had quietly admitted he would want only one, never saying who.

The time she and her brother had been speaking with Charles, only for her to notice Thomas had been staring at them.

“I don’t know. Sisterly instincts, I suppose. Do you want to tell me about it? Actually, no, hold on. I will not give you the option. You bottle up far too much, Alastair. Please, pray tell me, what this is about?”

Alastair sat for a moment, unsure where to start. “You remember the day, don’t you? When I defended Thomas in the Sanctuary? It starts long before that; but I fear if I tell it all you may miss out on your night. I had said that I followed him because you were fond of him. That was...” He trailed off. The words were not leaving his mouth. Cordelia smiled sympathetically. “It was only part of the truth. I came to find that I myself was indeed...quite fond of him. And I was afraid that if he went out alone with a murderer on the loose, something would happen. I couldn’t bear the thought of it being my fault; I have done enough damage. When I saw him being arrested I panicked and did the only rational thing I could think of.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrow. “Follow him the whole way to the Sanctuary risking getting caught by the Inquisitor, then further increase your risk of getting caught by sneaking into the Institute and hiding until you were needed?”

“What can I say?” her brother replied, seeming distant. “You do...odd things, when you care about someone.”

“Alastair, you risked your own safety doing what you did as well. I do not know what on earth I would do if something had happened to you without my knowledge.”

“My dear Layla. When one’s heart is so encompassed with love for another, rationality is quite frankly defenestrated.”

“What exactly does ‘defenestrated’ mean?”

“Thrown out the window,” Alastair replied, matter-of-factly. Cordelia moved towards the door of his room, realising she had to leave soon. “I only want to ask one more question. Is Thomas aware of your feelings for him?”

Alastair laughed to himself. “Quite. In fact, in the Sanctuary, I discovered that being held in confinement with someone who is as handsome as he is kind can result in interesting outcomes.”

Cordelia mocked a gasp. “Alastair Esfandiyār Carstairs, did you spend that whole night-“

“Ah ah! An honourable man does not kiss and tell.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened. “YOU KI-“

“Fine! Quieten down, lest mother is given a heart attack! Look, what happened is staying between us only. But I can tell you this; we did have a long conversation, in which he told me that he liked men. He also told me how he had figured that out; turns out that it was essentially me. I was quite shocked, because I thought he was referring to our school days when he mentioned feelings for me. I was, however, promptly proven wrong, shall we say.”

Cordelia’s face burst into a grin, before she sensed there was something else to the story. “Wait. What happened? What did you tell him?”

“You must understand, Layla, I really do care for him. But his friends- they hate me. Matthew cannot even be in the same room as me without hurling an insult. I cannot be with him; it is too complicated. I do not want to break that poor boy’s heart again, not after the Academy. I told him what I just told you, though I fear my last statement may have been too late. The letter you have in your hand and the paper you see on the floor are all my attempts at an apology. I just...walked away. Left him there. If only I had the chance to apologise to Matthew, this could have been different. But he will not accept it. He will not stop hounding me with comments, and I feel as though I can never stop being fifteen years old. I know I deserve better, but it can be tiring to fight when all your life you’ve been at war with yourself.”

Cordelia made a decision in that moment. She looked at Alastair and observed the similarities in how he and Thomas had been acting. Thomas looked a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, only to have one twice as heavy dropped on again. Alastair seemed even more quiet than usual. “You are coming with me. I don’t care when you turn up, you are turning up. I will ensure there is a piano nearby so that you can demonstrate your own incredible talent. If Matthew makes a jab at you, I will take care of it. If these rules are not met, you will be cut to pieces with Cortana. See you there,” she said, concluding her speech and leaving. Alastair watched as she left the house. He felt inspired by what she had said. He realised something within himself, too.

I cannot run from my past, but I cannot be forced to stay in it either. I am worth more than that.

And I’ll take any opportunity possible to make sure Matthew knows I refuse to take it anymore.

#shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #chain of iron #lgbtq #queer #cordelia carstairs #alastair and cordelia #alastair carstairs #the last hours #chain of gold #thomas lightwood #christopher lightwood #james herondale #matthew fairchild #will herondale #lucie herondale #thomastair #alastair x thomas

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chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

idk if you’re still taking prompts but 7 angst for percabeth after BoTL but before tlo, thank you so much!!

idk what this is, but hopefully, it’s not too horrible bc I can’t bring myself to read it again lol.

“You should’ve said that yesterday.”

tw: blood

read on ao3

Plans don’t always go well. Annabeth should know; she’s a daughter of Athena. But one holds on to hope like it’s the last thing they have, even when accidents happen.

It was a frequent thing nowadays, for demigods to leave on missions as a desperate attempt to thwart off the titan forces. Annabeth understood the risks.

Percy did too, but he’d insisted that it was fine, that he needed to go.

He’d left with some Hephaestus and Hermes kids, intending to raid one of Kronos’ troops that had camped close to New York.

They hadn’t counted on the empousai, though. And because of this, most of the boys—including Percy—had nearly died.

But what else was new?

The thing was that...he didn't have to go. But he and Beckendorf had grown closer over the past year, so nothing could stop him from tagging along with the son of Hephaestus and the rest of the group. Maybe because he also felt bad that he’d missed out on most of the missions; he’d been absent for so long, lost in the streets of New York City.

Whatever the stupid reason was, he’d refused to listen to Annabeth, disappearing into the horizon with Blackjack and the rest of the pegasi.

He’ll survive, she’d told herself. If he really was the child of the prophecy, then…

This mission wouldn’t be the last thing he did. Or his last day on Earth. That title would likely belong to his birthday.

Gods, he’s going to die anyway.

But for now, he wouldn’t, at least not according to what she’d heard.

Thanatos would bide his time, hooded and standing at the doors between life and death, not yet ready to welcome Percy with his chilled breath.

Soon, but not today.

Still, it wasn’t like she’d been worried sick and then nearly threw up her lunch once the crew had arrived, a few yards away from the infirmary, bloodstained and battle-torn.

By all the extra load on the pegasi that she could make out from the distance, she supposed that at least they’d been successful.

Percy, however, was leaking blood down his neck, furtively trying to clamp it down with a bandana.

Soon, but not today.

He leaned against Beckendorf, his eyes baring clouds, fogged and lost. The son of Hephaestus helped him off of Blackjack, but still, he would’ve crumpled to the ground had it not been for Annabeth running to him like a madwoman. The grass crunched behind her; the others were right on her heels.

“What happened?” she cried, grabbing hold of Percy’s shoulders as his head slumped against her chest. She staggered back from his sudden weight, then righted herself.

“Hey, ‘Beth,” Percy said weakly, the words jumbling together against his lips and her shirt.

She looked at Beckendorf helplessly.

“Empousai,” he gasped, then made a hissing sound, pressing a hand to his back. It came back crimson red.

“You’re hurt!” she said as if it weren’t obvious.

Other demigods, Apollo kids mostly, rushed past her with medical supplies. But Will stopped next to them, breathing hard. He handed out ambrosia to Beckendorf and Annabeth’s waiting hands.

His eyes blazed, focused on something past her head. He waved frantically at someone, signaling them to come, and quickly. She whirled around and caught sight of Chiron trotting toward them.

“I’ll be back,” he breathed, giving them a nod as though they’d argued with him against it. He retreated a few steps, legs reacting to sudden howls of pain that echoed further back. “Just, just wait here. I’ll just…”

He dashed away, lost in the mass of pegasi and bodies that moved in all directions, shouting. In the chaos, Will was their only help at organizing it all—but she’d still tasted bile in her throat, not quite used to the way he ignored Percy and his mortal wound to the neck.

In a swift, mastered movement, Annabeth had made him chew on the Ambrosia. She’d been about to say something else—some words of encouragement—when a blur of curly brown hair nearly tripped her and Percy over. She readjusted him in her arms; Percy mumbled something incomprehensible, making her heart tighten.

“Charlie!” Silena called, flinging herself into Beckendorf’s arms.

He grunted in response but smiled through his obvious pain.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

She kissed him, but only for a second because Beckendorf had already pulled away faster than her sudden arrival.

Silena scrunched up her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

His concerned gaze leached into Percy, whom Annabeth could barely hold now.

Has he always been this heavy?

She followed her boyfriend’s line of vision and saw her friend standing in front of her for the first time. Her face morphed into shock, eyes widening. In a flash, Silena was there, hauling one of Percy’s arms over her shoulder. He was no longer conscious.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, the words tumbling into the pool that was now Annabeth’s fevered heart. “I didn’t...”

Annabeth could only shake her head. She had to get Percy some actual help. She pressed the cloth harder into his neck. It had to be the fucking neck.

“Will!” she shouted, voice hoarse. “Chiron!”

Panting, Beckendorf closed the distance, limping over to Annabeth. “I’m going to help the others. We weren’t so lucky on our mission, and...” He glanced somewhere past them. “Chiron’s coming our way. We have to—”

Silena inhaled sharply. “You’re bleeding, too? Why didn’t—”

“No time, ‘Lena.”

In an instant, Chiron was there, extending his arms out.

“Give him to me.” His voice was firm and urgent.

After all, the neck was a highly vulnerable place. A slit to the throat could end someone’s life in a matter of seconds. Percy was a demigod, and likely the cut hadn’t been too deep, or else he’d be dead by now. But still, she didn't know how much longer he could hold up.

Already she’d felt the tell-tale warmth of blood trickling into her skin, already she’d envisioned the life draining out of him. The sand of an hourglass raining, spilling down to the bottom.

;

They’d told her that he’d lost too much blood, that the claw wound had just barely hit an artery. But above all else, he was lucky. He’d survive.

She’d been there, hands washed clean from the rusted blood, sitting on his bedside in the infirmary and watching him sleep while her mind was wide awake. Will came and went, wrapping bandages and giving him fresh doses of ambrosia; Chiron did, too—as if none of this was his fault and he could pretend to care for injured demigods.

But she stayed. Stayed and watched.

Annabeth had forgotten how long she’d been there, staring at the blank walls, eyes unfocused. Will had poked his head inside for the final time and insisted for her to get some sleep; it was late. She’d shaken her head and refused.

Her eyes closed for a second, though it must’ve been longer than that, because, when she opened them again, golden light had already streamed through the window. It cast delicate shadows across the room. In her daze, she hadn’t realized that someone was calling her name, light as a butterfly.

Percy.

“Annabeth,” he repeated.

She blinked the sleep away to find a pair of green eyes watching her.

Though his hair was twisted and knotted, and his complexion was a worrying shade lighter, Annabeth thought that she’d never seen a more inviting sight.

“You asshole!” she gasped, lunging forwards with desperate fingers, hugging Percy tighter than she’d ever had in her life.

After a while, his head dropped back to the pillow to get a better look at her.

“Hey.” He grinned lazily.

There was a sweet wonder to his face—like he couldn’t believe she was here, waiting for him to wake up.

But her mind flashed to when his heartbeat had weakened, when scarlet red covered her shaking hands and she’d seen him slump into Chiron as their teacher dropped him here, in the infirmary.

“D’you have any idea how fucking worried I was?”

His brows knit in confusion. “What do you…” A hand flew to his neck, to his bandages. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah.” Her voice felt like rough sandpaper. “That.”

Percy winced. “Okay, okay. I can explain; that demon came out of nowhere, right? And I slashed and shit, but she still got me, and—”

“You could’ve died, Percy. You get that?”

“I know, I know! But I didn’t!”

She took a rattling breath and looked away. She suddenly felt faint; her lungs didn’t seem to gather enough oxygen. Everything was too overwhelming, too big and small all at the same time.

She was dimly aware of Percy saying something. Then, she felt the warmth of her hand in his. It helped bring her back, but barely.

“Hey. Hey, look at me, Annabeth. Look at me.” Reluctantly, she did as he said. “Breathe with me. C'mon—in two three four, out two three four...”

Annabeth didn’t know how long they stayed that way, anchored to the surety of Percy’s grip on her hand and breathing along to his rhythm, until she’d found a way back to her bearings.

“You’re okay. I’m okay,” he said, repeatedly.

She nodded.

“Talk to me.”

Here he was, the boy who had nearly died, consoling the girl who’d watched the whole thing.

She nodded again, and this time, she closed her eyes, taking in some of this new peace of mind Percy had offered.

He was safe, and they were alright.

Finally, she exhaled.

“How’re you feeling?” She bit her lip, remembering something, and then muttered, “Sorry. Didn’t really ask you that first.”

“S’okay.” Now that she noticed him, truly noticed him, she could tell how tired he was. “I’m fine. Just feel like mush.”

“Your neck doesn’t hurt? Will gave you some morphine.”

“Yeah, no. Everything’s kinda numb, I guess. Doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“You lost a lot of blood.”

“Hmm. Probably why I feel like mush.”

She felt a lump forming in her throat. Not for the first time that day.

“It wasn’t—Gods, Perce,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. “If you’d only seen it…”

“I know. I should’ve listened to you.”

“You should’ve said that yesterday.”

Annabeth didn’t realize that she was crying until Percy softly flicked his thumb across her cheek. He reluctantly moved it down to her lips, swiping at the tears that had already pooled there.

It wasn’t really something she planned to do, and in any other case would’ve embarrassed her, but she found herself resting her forehead against his. Maybe to steady herself. Maybe to feel his presence more, a spare hand combing through his locks.

She wasn’t so sure.

But still, she let herself close her eyes, enjoying this moment of quiet. Percy did too, sighing softly, rubbing her back idly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, when they separated. “M’here.”

Her breath caught in her throat, just by how tender his touch had been, taking care of her when he was the injured one. How close they were at that moment. How her tears tasted like that time she’d kissed him, all salt and sweat and fervor.

Now, she was able to see the little flecks of blue in his irises, drink in all of his details like she was dying of thirst. They were so close that she was able to feel exactly when his breath hitched like hers had done just milliseconds before, how it smelled like medicine and chocolate cookies all in one.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, not taking his gaze from her. “I didn’t listen to you.”

At least he acknowledged it. Again.

“No. You didn’t.”

His thumb still lingered on her face, a ray of sunlight that she greedily took only for herself, leaning into him. It ghosted around her skin, that trailing touch of his. And despite its warmth, it sent shivers down her spine.

His eyes never left hers. Roving, feeling down to her very soul.

He’d always been the one to break her walls, destroy the dam she’d carefully built for as long as she could remember. Poseidon wasn’t his father for nothing.

And as he grasped a stray curl that fell across her left eye, tucking it ever so gently behind her ear, she felt that water roaring all over her mind. The flood happened too fast, consuming every last restraint and denial that crossed its path.

Annabeth didn’t catch it until she risked a glance to his lips.

Gods, he’s so close. Too close.

In the blink of an eye, she was leaning in, intoxicated by everything about him. Percy caught the back of her jaw with his hand, guiding her closer.

Their breaths mingled together.

Her lips parted. Closer…

“Hey, how’s—oh shit, sorry!”

She repelled from him, electrified, and whipped her head to the screeching of the curtain rod.

Cheeks flushed, Will yanked at the curtains, closing them once again.

“Wait!” Annabeth glanced at Percy, whose eyes were wide. “Will, this isn’t—”

The latter hollered from the other side, “I can come later! To, um, change bandages! Be good!”

So close.

She wanted to slap herself.

No.

This wasn’t right. For a second, she’d forgotten what was at stake. Let herself be swept away.

Have you ever considered that he’s going to die?

He’ll leave you just like everyone else.

This was dangerous, letting herself taste what wasn’t meant to be.

“I—I’m sorry,” she gasped, standing up, an unknown force pushing her back.

Percy blinked, slower than usual. Probably from all the ambrosia and nectar and mortal medicine.

“Annabeth—”

He reached for her, but she was already backing away into the wall, stumbling over her wooden chair.

“No, I shouldn’t have…” She felt herself blush. “I don’t know, I...I should go.”

She scrambled towards the curtains, ignoring Percy’s expression awashed in hurt and shock.

Brushing past his bedside, he grabbed her arm.

“Please,” he begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Please stay.”

Blinking away her tears, Annabeth forced herself to look at him.

If I stay, you’ll leave me first.

But she didn’t say that, only shook her head and watched as those beautiful eyes of his creased around the corners with anguish. A part of her died a little at witnessing this. His was a heart worn on a sleeve that would soon fade away. She pulled her arm away, burned from his grip.

“‘Beth—”

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed, already tugging the curtain aside. “I’ll call Will.”

And she left him there in his injury, allowing it to be.

He didn’t deserve this, she knew. Not when she could enjoy the last moments with him, admitting what was in the open air between them. But they’d be one step into their ruined fate if that ever happened. If she didn’t stop.

Because she was like Tantalus, that lone fruit forever out of her reach.

He didn’t deserve this, but she didn’t deserve to have him, either.

#percabeth #percabeth fic #pjo fic #pjo #anon #pjo fanfiction #tw blood #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #ahhh idk do I like it #or do i not #angst #look mom i can write

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXXXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m scared to see how you guys will react to this one, hope you at least find it enjoyable despite my very self-indulgent plots -Danny

P.S. Huge s/o to @bwbatta bc I decided to update my fic and now I have pretty dividers in all my books! Most of the ones I ended up using are her work so go check it out :)

Words: 4,641

Series’ Masterlist

Book V // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Need Your Love’ -by Joshua Wicker

Chapter One: Dumbledore's Mission.

"A galleon says Erick will crash the car —"

"Shut up!"

"Don't make him nervous," Emily scolded Harry. "If you continue this I won't teach you how to drive!"

"We don't need to learn," Mel snorted. "We'll apparate everywhere..."

"I thought you hated it," Her mother raised a brow.

"Yeah, but she's lazy," Harry smirked.

"Why is Harry here? He's not allowed to leave the house, is he?" Mel frowned.

"He's not allowed to be alone outside, there's a difference. We're babysitting two infants, unfortunately..." Erick taunted.

"What's the matter, Flint? You have stage-fright?" Harry replied.

"Oh please, he feeds on attention! Like a dementor but in a more annoying way..."

"Enough!" Emily looked over her seat. "Is that the kind of things you want to teach your brother?"

"I doubt he'll remember any of this!"

"We know he can do it, Em, we're just teasing," Harry said blithely.

"Yeah, he's the only adult here apart from you, mum. It's kind of his obligation to be good at driving."

The baby let out a squeal of agreement, he was three weeks old but had a good set of lungs that he was happy to use at any given time, especially while everyone was sleeping.

Harry leaned and checked that the baby's blankets. Mel beamed at the sight, the boy had pretty much adopted the boy as his own brother, which she thought made a lot of sense, not only because it was Sirius' son, but because he'd been part of her family for so long that anything else would've been silly.

They were well aware that bringing little Regulus to their driving lessons was a bit risky, but Emily wasn't as keen to leave Mel and Harry alone in the house as she used to, so she put a few safety spells on the chair once the baby was seated while Harry and Mel sat on both sides of it.

Erick turned out to be a good driver, but he still had a bit of trouble understanding how cars worked.

"I have to be pulling and pushing stuff all the time!" He complained as he activated the windshield on accident for the third time. "Why can't I just turn the key and press the pedal?"

"Cars don't work like that," Emily said patiently. "It's complicated, but you're good!"

"He's only gone up and down the street for half an hour, Leggie fell asleep already," The girl huffed.

Emily looked over the seat once again, she was frowning. "Erick, switch seats with Mel."

"You're joking... right?"

"Erick," The woman repeated.

"On it," He said happily. "C'mon Mel, are you scared?"

Ten minutes later, Erick was in the backseat and she was tightly holding onto the wheel.

"I'm doing it!" She said. "Is not that hard, is it?"

"A slug could move faster," Harry was looking at the roof of the car and dying of heat. "I thought you were going to be more... the reckless type of driver."

"Me too..." Erick agreed lazily, he was playing with one of Reggie's feet.

"I'm not going faster, my brother's in the car!" Mel scoffed.

"We're not asking you to! Just enough so we can feel like we're actually moving!"

"Bringing you three was a bad idea," Emily said over the boys' laughter.

"Fine!" Mel pressed down the pedal, the car immediately gaining speed. "I'm was just being careful!"

"Which makes me proud," Emily softly patted her shoulder. "It feels like it was yesterday when you were running around Remus' house in nothing but a diaper and now you're driving!"

"The other night I ran into her wearing no pants, so she's hasn't changed really," Erick murmured nonchalantly. "I stepped on Grey's tail thanks to that... maybe that's why he hates me so much."

"What?" Harry's head snapped to the side so fast he hurt himself.

"I forgot you live here now! Sometimes I sleep like that, s'not a crime!" She looked at Harry through the rearview mirror. "I've been an only child for sixteen years, sometimes I forget there are more than two people in my house..."

"I'm surprised her scream didn't wake up Leon," Erick sniggered.

"He's a heavy sleeper like his dad," Emily responded distractedly.

The conversation died instantly. It wasn't the woman's intention, of course, but it'd been only a few weeks since Sirius' passing, sometimes they would forget for a moment, just a brief second, then one of them would talk about Sirius and everything would start again...

It was painful, and it was weird. Mel had never endured something like this with anyone except Harry. Having a larger group of people sharing the same pain was strangely comforting.

Mel cleared her throat. "It's Harry's turn..."

"I'm okay," He said quickly. "I can learn another day..."

"Glasses, you and I have a tradition of experiencing things at the same time," The girl stopped the car and turned to look at him. "You're not going to ruin our streak. Besides, I need to know if I'm better than you."

Harry stared at her in amusement, then he looked at Erick.

"Is it fun, having her bossing you around all day?"

"I boss her around too," Erick smirked.

"They take turns," Her mother sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry gave the woman a look of sympathy as he stepped out of the car.

"There are worse things than being stuck with two pushy teenagers..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Emily smirked. "A pushy teenager and a pushy adult."

"If it annoys you that much I'll move out," Mel offered humorously. "What d'you say, Prince? Should we try our luck outside our comfort zone?"

"You wouldn't last a day," Erick taunted.

"Fiddlesticks," Mel muttered, to which Harry laughed.

It was around three in the morning when someone knocked on her door. She'd been awake for a while now, so she stood up and opened it.

"Hi," She rubbed her eyes. "What's up?"

"Can't sleep," Erick mumbled. "Care if I stay a moment?"

"Go ahead..."

She went back to bed, Erick sat at the edge and stared at her for a moment. Grey let out a sleepy growl, curling further away from his reach. Erick pulled out his pocket watch, now hanging from a chain he'd found in Regulus Black's room back in Grimmauld Place. The reason why he'd taken it was unknown to Mel.

"What's up?" She mumbled, suppressing a yawn.

"I'm thinking."

"About?"

"How lucky I am."

Mel let out a puff of air without replying. He would do this often, say he was lucky to be there, that she'd saved his life... She just wanted him to shut up.

"I really don't want to punch you, Prince, I'd ruin your pretty nose."

He smiled, unbothered.

"You know, a few years ago you would've been pleased to hear me say that, you ungrateful git."

"Yeah well, a few years ago my biggest dream was to become a princess," She joked. "So you see my priorities were a bit messed up..."

"You'd make a cute princess."

"C'mon —"

"I mean it."

"Erick," Mel said in a tone of warning. "Stop."

He'd been acting like that for a whole week: flirting when no one was around, complimenting her... Mel had closed up so tightly around herself that she was barely capable of saying I love you to her mum. Erick had lived deprived of affection his whole life and was just getting out of that environment. At what point had she become the cold, distant one, and he the ray of sunshine?

She knew right away what he was trying to do, but she was so numb... Mel cared about him, but she was not there yet.

Erick leaned on the wall and tilted his head a bit so he could look at her.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" She replied. "It's not your fault... I just — I need time."

He nodded shortly.

"We can talk later?"

He was wonderful, but she was in the middle of all that was wrong in their world, right next to Harry and the lifeline that she still hadn't decided whether she wanted to keep or not.

"We should go to bed," She murmured, still unable to make any real decisions for herself.

"Yeah," He stood up, carefully putting the blankets back in place and dropping them all over Grey on purpose. He put the watch back in his pocket as well. "Sweet dreams, Mely."

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES

The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.

"I have a better way to protect our house," Erick groaned, he was gently rubbing his temples. "Let Leon cry the whole night and not even Voldemort will try to enter... I myself am starting to consider living on the street just to get away from the noise."

"S'not that bad," She answered, the dark circles under her eyes giving her away. "It's hard to get used to being a human, you know?"

"Look at this," Emily unfolded the newspaper. "'Scrimgeour succeeds Fudge' — Well, haven't met him yet but I hope he's got a bit of brain, Tonks told me a few months back that he's certainly a bit brisker..."

The doorbell rang and Mel left to open the door.

The routine at that point was established even if it had been only two weeks since their arrival; Erick got used to life at Privet Drive quite easily, he spent two whole days examining every corner of the kitchen, and when Mel showed him what a movie was, he wasted a whole day in the drawing-room watching the movie adaptations of the books she'd lent to him.

Harry would go daily to check on"Reg". Once he'd stayed the night but refused to sleep in Mel's room, not that she'd tried to convince him otherwise.

"Goodmorning," She opened the door without paying attention, "you're a bit late for breakfast but I'll let it pass as soon as you —"

She stopped talking at the sight of her great-uncle, Dumbledore smiled at her and walked in.

"I can't stay for breakfast, but I dare say I regret it deeply."

"Professor... I — Is everything okay?"

"Certainly."

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Mel turned to see her mother standing near the stairs, gazing at Dumbledore coldly.

"Emily," Dumbledore said. "Good morning... I'm here to speak with Mr Flint."

"Is he in trouble?"

"Quite the contrary, I believe he's never been better."

"Professor," Erick's posture changed when he walked into the room, suddenly he looked more like a young man and less like a boy. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a mission for you... Mel as well, but only if she wishes to go."

"She's not of age," The woman replied quickly.

Mel was ready to accept whatever it was he wanted her to do, she needed to feel like she was doing something. Although she wasn't exactly happy to see him so soon after the end of their last term.

"As I said, only if she wishes to come. I assure you she'd be safe."

The girl looked at her mother and then at the men standing in front of her.

"Can I hear what this is about first?"

Emily crossed her arms without uttering a word, her uncle signalled towards the couch.

"A word, then?"

Erick nodded, making a beeline to the closest armchair. Emily turned to leave, but Dumbledore spoke again.

"You can stay."

The woman shared a look with her daughter, Mel couldn't hide her eagerness to hear what the old man had to say.

"I won't sit there and watch history repeat itself," Emily sighed.

The woman left before Mel could say anything. She would talk to her later, but first, she needed to talk to Dumbledore.

"I beg you not to interrupt me while I speak."

Both pupils silently agreed to his petition.

"Now, I find myself in need of a new Professor, but the man I'd been contemplating for the job has been on the run for almost a year — He's not guilty of any crimes," He added, noticing the way their faces grew worried. "He's just afraid like everyone else... I need you to track him down and point me to where he is so I can have a word with him."

"I'll do it," Erick responded instantly.

"Alone?" Mel frowned.

Dumbledore stared at her for a second too long.

"If I remember correctly today is your sixteenth birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Mr Flint turned seventeen in January — You may know that's considered to be the start of our adulthood."

"Yes."

"Erick is allowed to do magic outside school... But you still have a year left."

"I don't see —"

"You have Matthew's spirit when it comes to saving a friend, Mel. When you were eleven you left this house with Hagrid so you could look for Harry yourself... The time has come for me to finally be honest with you."

"What do you mean 'finally'?" The words were burning a hole in her brain. "You mean all the things you told me when I was in your office last month... that wasn't it?"

Erick stared at them with polite interest, even though she knew he was dying to ask. Mel hadn't told him a thing about that night out of respect for Harry's privacy.

"That was all I had to tell you regarding the Harry," Dumbledore replied. "There are plenty of things I haven't said, and I wish to talk about them with you."

"And if I agree to go with Erick on this mission... you'll tell me?" Mel raised a brow.

"I'll tell you whether you help me with this or not, but I believe there's nothing else I can teach you, Mel. All that's left for you is to start putting your knowledge to use; I recommend you to go on this mission."

"What about my animagus lessons?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I'll help you with that, but that'll be it. You've concluded your lessons with the highest marks, dear girl."

She would've been elated hadn't been because of the strange way her uncle was acting.

"Aren't you happy?" Erick nudged her arm gently. "You've worked hard for years, you should be proud!"

"I am proud," Mel replied shortly. "And I'd love to help, but I can't leave my family, it's not safe."

"They'd go to the burrow if you leave."

"What about Harry?"

"He'll go to the burrow too, but I have a few matters to attend with his family first."

"If Mel wants to stay that's alright, I can go on my own —"

"You can't."

Erick looked at her irritated.

"It's not like you can do magic outside school."

"It takes more than magic to survive out there — You don't know how to blend in with the muggles, do you?"

"You can discuss this throughout the day," Dumbledore grabbed a letter from his pocket. "In this, you'll find all about Horace Slughorn's last known whereabouts and a picture so you can identify him. If you do, don't approach, he'll know you're following him. As soon as you find him come back to Privet Drive and write to me."

"This is all just in case we decide to go, right?"

"I'm going," Erick scowled at her.

"We'll talk about this after dinner," She glared back.

Dumbledore stood up and they followed, Emily was at the entrance ready to let him out.

"I'll wait for your response, then," Her uncle stared at her for a moment. "You and Harry..."

"We haven't decided," She was quick to reply. "We need time."

"Very well."

"You're quiet."

"I have a lot to think about."

Her day had been slightly ruined by her great-uncle's visit. Although Lupin had been there for a couple of hours and stayed for dinner. Mel and Erick talked about the mission and she'd promised to tell Harry after the party was over, which was now.

The Slytherin was upstairs taking a shower and Emily was putting Reggie to bed. Mel and Harry were sitting on the grass, watching the stars above them. She'd fallen into contemplative silence, pondering what to do. She could go chase some stranger for Dumbledore's benefit, or she could stay and look after her family.

"This would be much easier if my mum had asked me to stay!" She pouted.

"I reckon she knows that," Harry responded, throwing small rocks over the fence.

"Won't you?"

"Hmm?"

"You won't ask me to stay?"

Harry stared at her.

"No."

He didn't explain his reasons, but he didn't need to. Mel had made up her mind even if she didn't want to admit it. That was exactly why she was so upset, she wanted to look after her family, but her responsibilities were keeping her apart. Three years of hard work had led to this, and although Mel was a big sister now, winning the war was more important than changing diapers.

Her mother was a whole different problem too. Around them she was always cheery, but Mel was sure she'd heard her cry when none of the boys was around to hear.

She believed it was about Sirius, but it could also be about her and Harry, that she was scared for them. Mel didn't have the heart to lie if her mother were to ask about the prophecy. It was, as they had agreed without even having to speak about it, too much weight to put on their loved one's shoulders. The idea of Emily, the closest thing to a mother Harry ever had, finding out there was a big chance one of them would die after having lost Sirius in such a brutal way...

"I don't think I'll be able to look at Dumbledore in the eye if I come back empty-handed..."

"You're one of the best witches I know," Harry shrugged. "You'll be fine, just try not to murder Flint while you're away."

"He's less annoying now," She grinned. "Ever since he left his parents' house, dunno, he's improved. Although I might murder him if he doesn't stop —"

She was going to say 'flirting', but for some reason, she didn't feel ready to talk about that with Harry. She wasn't ready for anything and yet the world was forcing her to keep moving, it was exhausting.

Mel got up and offered her hand to her friend.

"Do you remember when you were just Harry and I was just Mel, and we were the odd kids at school?" She fixed her gaze on her bedroom window. "Wish we could go back to that."

"When I didn't know I was a wizard?"

"Things were easier back then, don't you think?"

"Maybe," He retorted. "But they were never entirely good."

In Harry, Mel found another reason to stay.

They could have the summer to talk about the things they needed to. She would stare at his aged features and compare them to the ones of that young boy she used to call her best friend...

Their bond still had thousands of cracks that had to be fixed, Mel was having a hard time letting him in again and they needed to be okay in order to know if they wanted to keep the lifeline or not. It wasn't that she didn't want to like him, she wanted the comfort he used to provide, the warmth and security of having someone who understood.

He knew it, and he was trying his best to not mess it up, but Mel didn't want to love him again, cutting the lifeline was the best way to assure that... It was easier said than done, though.

Harry was confused. Sometimes it felt like nothing would ever happen, then an overwhelming affection would crush his chest whenever Mel laughed or touched him. He didn't want to put a name to it, he was terrified of saying it, even to himself. All he knew was that the connection was a way to make sure Mel would be safe, and he didn't want to give that up.

"I should go."

"Yeah..."

"Happy birthday," He said. "I have to be honest and tell you that your present was meant to be sent last Christmas, but..."

"I didn't give you a present either, it's okay... I'm a bit angry though, that was a missed opportunity, I could've won."

Harry laughed.

"You'll have a new chance this year, but I doubt you'll be able to beat me — I've already gotten yours..."

"It's July!"

"I know," His smile vanished suddenly, then he added. "Be careful out there, please."

"Erick'll make sure I don't do anything stupid," Mel smiled. "He's so obsessed with protecting me — as if he didn't know I can do it alone just fine!"

"Yeah, but now's different."

"Different how?"

"We need you alive," He told her. "You want to live long enough to become Headmistress, right?"

Mel froze, not knowing what to answer.

"What?" Harry tilted his head.

"I lied," She blurted out. "I never wanted to be Headmistress — I saw you that night, in the mirror... I saw..."

"What?" He asked again, this time softer.

"You kissed me. A real kiss... like the type we used to gawk at as children."

Harry cleared his throat. "Oh."

A tense silence surrounded them. The variations of colour in his eyes were remarkably easy to notice from where she was standing. She was tilting her head up now, perhaps they were too close.

"Be careful."

"You told me that already," Mel whispered, unable to look away. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Yes," He paused, his eyes took a quick glance to her lips. "But if I say it you'll get mad."

Harry kissed her, Mel responded by pulling him down.

It was hard to tell whether she was euphoric or scared, perhaps both, or perhaps neither. As soon as it happened Harry jumped away, and she was dropped back into reality.

"I can't do it — We haven't talked about the lifeline — We won't make the right choice if we let our feelings —"

"You're right! Yes!" Mel said, acting just as agitated. "It's a terrible idea — I like you, but—"

"—it's confusing," He said anxiously. "Do you have feelings for me?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" Mel asked in a high-pitched voice.

"No!" He responded, but his voice trembled with a lack of confidence. "I care about you a lot —"

"— I care for you too —"

"— But just —"

"— as friends!"

They stared at each other with the same frightened expression.

"I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable," He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I... I don't want to lose you."

"We need to spend some time apart," She nodded, avoiding his eyes. "We can ignore this happened, right?"

"Absolutely," He agreed. "You're spending the summer at the burrow?"

"My mum and my brother will be there, so I kind of have to... is that okay?"

"It's okay," Harry looked around. "We... we should go."

"Did you ever regret falling for my dad?" Mel asked randomly. "I mean, you ever wonder how things would've turned out if you'd stayed as friends?"

Emily stopped folding her clothes.

"Something nagging that head of yours?"

"I think relationships are a waste of time. They all break and you always end up hurting..."

"What makes you think such nonsense?" Emily raised a brow, leaning back on the couch. "Who are you and what did you do to my daughter?"

"You don't think that way?" She asked doubtfully.

"Because I lost my partners that means I have to be bitter?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Mel replied quickly. "But... yeah."

Emily remained silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"Solitude can do weird things to your heart, love. It can pull you towards bad or good places... People that make you feel a little less lonesome, someone who understands you. You should hold onto that for as long as you can, no matter how scary it is. You never know what wonderful things may bring you..."

"Sirius said something similar a year ago," Mel said quietly. "Something about finding my equal, that the earth's full of options and stuff..."

"I won't force you to find a partner if that's not what you want, but you're young and the world is big, you can't turn your back on every opportunity."

"It's not like I have lots of prospects right now..." She huffed.

"You don't need lots, just the right one."

Mel hesitated for a moment, then added:

"I know you used to have a crush on James Potter."

Emily looked up from the laundry again, she raised a brow. "Oh?"

"I know it was a long time ago," She shifted in her place awkwardly. "But do you ever wonder what would've happened if you two..?"

The woman sighed.

"Only once."

"When?"

"When I found out Voldemort was after his son," She folded the last shirt and handed it to Mel. "I asked myself if I had made the right choice by giving him up... When I look at you I know it was the right thing to do. What happened to James and Lily... it was horrible, but it wasn't my fault. I was happy with your father; maybe Matthew wasn't my first love, but when it comes to this, your first love rarely is the one that lasts."

"Mel?" Erick walked into the room. "If we're planning to drive around all day tomorrow, you should sleep," He nodded shortly at both of them and left the room, her mother chuckled.

"You know, Erick reminds me of your father... I know Sirius said he was like his brother, but Regulus made all the wrong choices... Erick's done all this for himself, to be better. Just like Matty."

Mel's gaze lingered on the doorway long after Erick had left.

"Thank you, for letting me go," She sighed, looking back at the woman. "I don't love following Dumbledore's orders but I... I want to make this world a better place."

"Love," Emily cupped her face adoringly. "I know why you're doing this. Just how I knew why you flew that car to save Harry, and why you went to the Ministry... but you're my daughter, and it's my job to worry about you anyway."

Erick and Mel took three changes of clothing and put them in the trunk, Emily gave them muggle money. Mel had a fake driver's license as well as Erick, and they would take turns driving. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but it was expected since it was five in the morning. She hadn't mentioned the kiss to either her mother or Erick, she was determined to keep it that way, much like the whole lifeline stuff and the prophecy.

'Just pile more secrets on top, why don't you,' She thought bitterly as she walked out of the house.

Emily hugged both and let them kiss Reggie goodbye, Mel promised they would see each other soon, and Erick vowed he'd make sure Mel would be safe (she snorted loudly at this). Once inside the car, her friend took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"This isn't our first adventure, Prince."

"This one's the first we do with permission."

"You're an adult, you don't need anyone's approval."

"You know what I mean," He rolled his eyes.

"Sorry. I get defensive when I'm —"

"I know," He sighed. "I talk too much when I'm worried."

"I know," She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'm ready... We'll be okay."

Next Chapter —>

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